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THE 

RAMAYAN  OF  VALMIKI 

H 

TRANSLATED  INTO  ENGLISH  VERSE 

BY 

RALPH  T.  H.  GRIFFITH,  M.A..C.I.E. 

FORMER  PRINCIPAL  OF  THE  BENARES  COLLEGE,  AND  LATE  DIRECTOR 
PUBLIC  INSTRUCTION  N.-W.  P.  AND  OUDH. 


COMPLETE  IN  ONE  VOLUME. 


BENARES : 

PRINTED   AND    PUBLISHED   BY   E.    J.    LAZARUS   AND   CO. 

SOLD  ALSO  BY 
LUZAC   AND    CO.,    LONDON. 


1895. 
All  rights  reserved. 


750 
\Jf96 


V-YI 


u  y\ 


n  < 

Qi 


TO 

THE  HONOURABLE 
SIR  WILLIAM  MUIR,  K.  C.  B.  I.,  LL.  D. 

LIEUTENANT-GOVERNOR  OF  THE  NORTH-WESTERN 
PROVINCES  OF  INDIA 

THIS  TRANSLATION 

OF 

• 

THE  GREAT  EPIC  POEM  OF  THE  HINDUS 
IS  RESPECTFULLY  INSCRIBED. 


M31887 


CONTENTS. 


Page 


Dedication. 

Introduction. 

Invocation. 


BOOK  I. 

CANTO  i.— Narad. 

i{._  Brahma's  Visit, 
iii. — The  Argument. 
jv>__The  Rhapsodista. 
v. — Ayodhya. 
vi.—The  King. 

•       vii.—The  Ministers, 
viii.—  Sumantra's  Speech.  ... 
ix.— Rishyasring. 
x.— Rishyasring  Invited.    ... 
xi.— The    Sacrifice  Decreed, 
xii.— The  Sacrifice  Begun... 
xiii.— The  Sacrifice  Finished, 
xiv.— Ravan  Doomed, 
xv.— The  Nectar, 
xvi.-The  Vanars, 
xvii.— Rishyasring's  Return, 
xviii.— Rishyasring's  Depar- 

ture. 

xix.— The  Birth  of  thePrinces. 
xx.— Visvamitra's  Visit.    ... 
xxi.— Visvamitra's  Speech... 
xxii.— Dasaratha's  Speech.... 
xxiii.— -Vasishtha's  Speech, 
xxiv.— The  Spells, 
xxv.— The  Hermitage  of  Love, 
xxvi.— The  Forest  of  Tadaka. 
xxvii.— The  Birth  of  Tadaka. 
xxviii.— The  Death  of  Tadaka. 
xxix.— The  Celestial  Arms.  .. 
xxx.— The  Mysterious  Powers, 
xxxi.— The  Perfect  Hermitage. 
xxxii. — Visvamitra's  Sacrifice, 
xxxiii.— The  Sone. 
xxxiv. — Brahmadatta. 
xxxv. — Visvamitra's  Lineage, 
xxxvi. — The  Birth  of  Ganga. 
xxxix.— The  Sons  of  Sagar. 
xl.— The  01  caving  of  the  Earth, 
xli.— Kapil. 
xlii. — Sagar's  Sacrifice. 


Page 

3ANTO  xlii  i.— P>hagi  rath.  ...      53 

xliv. — The  Descent  of  Ganga.  54 
xlv.— The  Quest  of  the  Amrit.  56 
xlvi.—  Diti's  Hope.  ...  58 

xlvii.— Sumati.  ...      59 

xlviii. — Indra  and  Ahalya.  60 
xlix.— Ahalya  Freed.  ...  61 
1.— Janak.  ...  6l 

li.— Visvamitra.  ...      62 

Iii.— Vasishtha's  Feast.  ...  63 
liii. — Visvamitra's  Request.  64 
liv.— The  Battle.  ...  65 

lv.— The  Hermitage  Burnt.  66 
Ivi. — Visvamitra's  Vow.  ...  67 
Ivii.— Trisanku.  ...  68 

Iviii. — Trisanku  Cursed.  ...  69 
lix.— The  Sons  of  Vasishtha.  70 
Ix.— Trisanku's  Ascension. ...  71 
Ixi. — Sunahsepha.  ...  72 

Ixii. — Ambarisha's  Sacrifice.      73 

Ixiii. — Menaka.  ...      74 

Ixiv. — Rambha.  ...      75 

Ixv.— Visvamitra's  Triumph.     76 

Ixvi. — Janak's  Speech.       ...      77 

Ixvii. — The  Breaking  of  the 
Bow. 

Ixviii.— The  Envoys' Speech. 

Ixix. —  Dasaratha's  Visit.   ... 

Ixx.— The  Maidens  Sought. 

Ixxi. — Janak's  Pedigree.     ... 

Ixxii.— The  Gift  of  Kine.  ... 

Ixxiii. — The  Nuptials. 

Ixxiv. — Rama  with  the  Axe. 

Ixxv.— The  Parle. 

Ixxvi.— Debarred        from 
Heaven, 

Ixxvii.— Bharat's  Departure. 

BOOK  II. 

CANTO  i.— The  Heir  Apparent.      ... 
ii.— The  People's  Speech.   ... 
iii.— Dasaratha's  Precepts. ... 
iv.— Rama  Summoned, 
v. — Rama's  Fast, 
vi.— The  City  Decorated.    ... 
vii.— Manthara's  Lament. ... 


Page 

CANTO  viii.— Manthara's  Speech.  ...      97 
ix.— The  Plot.  ...      98 

x.— Dasaratha's  Speech.  ...  100 
xi.— The  Queen's  Demand. ...  102 
xii. — Dagaratha's  Lament. ...  103 
xiii.—  Uaaaratha's  Distress.  106 
xiv.— Rama  Summoned.  ...  107 
xv. — Tlie  Preparations.  ...  109 
xvi.— Rama  Summoned.  ...  Ill 
xvii. — Rama's  Approach.  ...  112 
xviii.— The  Sentence.  ...  113 
xix.— Rama's  Promise.  ...  114 
xx.— Kausalya's  Lament.  ...  116 
xxi.— Kausalya  Calmed.  ...  118 
xxii. — Lakshman  Calmed. ...  120 
xxii.— Lakshman's  Anger.  121 
xxiv. — Kausalya  Calmed.  ...  122 
xxv.— Kausalya  s  Blessing.  124 
xxvi.— Alone  with  Sita.  ...  125 
xxvii.— Sita's  Speech.  ...  126 
xxviii. — The  Dangers  of  the 

Wood 127 

xxix.— Sita's  Appeal.  ...  128 
xxx.— The  Triumph  of  Love.  129 
xxxi,— Lakshman's  Prayer.  131 
xxxii.— The  Gift  of  the 

Treasures 132 

xxxiii.— The  People's  Lament.  133 
xxxiv.— llama  in  the  Palace.  134 
xxxv.— Kaikeyi  Reproached.  136 
xxxvi.— Siddharth's  Speech.  137 
xxxvii.— The  Coats  of  Bark.  138 
xxxviii. — Care  for  Kausalya.  139 
xxxix.— Counsel  to  Sita.  ...  140 
xl.— Rama's  Departure.  ...  141 
xli.— The  Citizens'  Lament.  143 
xlii.— Dasaratha's  Lament.  144 
xliii. — Kausalya's  Lament.  145 
xliv. — Sumitra's  Speech.  ...  143 
xlv.— The  Tamasa.  ...  147 

xlvi.— The  Halt 148 

xlvii.— The  Citizens'  Return.  149 
xlviii.— The  Women's  Lament  150 
xlix.— The  Crossing  of  the 

Rivers lol 

1.— The  Halt  under  the  Ingudi.  15 1 
H. — Lakshman's  Lament. ...  153 
Hi.— The  Crossing  of  Ganga.  153 
liii.— Rama's  Lament.  ...  157 
liv.— Bharai  vaj  a'a  Hennitage.153 


Page 
CANTO  lv.— The  Passage  of  YamunA.  159 

Ivi. — Ohitrakuta 161 

Ivii.— Sumantra's  Return.  102 
Iviii.— Rama's  Message.  ...  163 
lix — Dasaratha's  Lament.  164 
Ix.— Kausalya  Consoled.  ...  165 
Ixi— Kauaalya's  Lament.  ...  166 
Ixii. — Dasaratha  Consoled.  167 
Ixiii.— The  Hermit's  Son  ...  168 
Ixiv.— Daaaratha's  Death.  170 
Ixv.— The  Women's  Lament.  172 
Ixvi,— The  Embalming.  ...  173 
Ixvii.— The  Praise  of  Kings.  174 
Ixviii.— The  Envoys.  ...  175 
Ixix.— Bharat's  Dream.  ...  176 
Ixx.— Bharat's  Departure.  177 
Ixxi.— Bharat's  Return.  ...  178 
Ixxii.— Bharat's  Inquiry.  ...  180 
Ixxiii.— Kaikeyi  Reproached.  181 
Ixxiv.—Bharat's  Lament  ...  182 
Ixxv.— The  Abjuration.  ...  183 
Ixxvi.— The  Funeral.  ...  185 
Ixxvii.— The  Gathering  of  the 

Ashes 186 

Ixxviii.— Manthara  Punished.  187 
Ixxix.— Bharat's  Commands.  188 
Ixxx.— The  Way  Prepared.  188 
Ixxxi.— The  Assembly.  ...  189 
Ixxxii.— The  Departure.  ...  190 
Ixxxiii.— The  Journey  Begun.  191 
Ixxxiv.— Guha's  Auger.  ...  192 
Ixxxv.— Guhaand  Bharat.  192 
Ixxxvi.— Guha's  Speech.  ...  193 
Ixxxvii.— Guha's  Story  ...  194 
Ixxxviii. — The  Ingudi  Tree.  195 
Ixxxix. — The  Passage  of 

Ganga 193 

xc.— The  Hermitage.  ...  197 
xci.— Bharadvaja's  Feast  ..  197 
xcii.— Bharat's  Farewell.  ...  200 
xciii. — Chitrakuta  in  Sight.  201 
xciv.— Chitrakuta.  ...  202 

xcv. — Mandakini 203 

xcvi.— The  Magic  Shaft.  ...  204 
xcvii. — Lakshman's  Anger.  206 
xcviii.— Lakshman  Calmed.  207 
xcix, — Bharat's  Approach.  208 

c.— The  Meeting 209 

ci.— Bharat  Questioned.  ...  210 
cii,— Bharat's  Tidings.  ...  211 


CONTENTS. 


CANTO  ciii.— The  Funeral  Libation 
civt — The  Meeting  with  the 

Queens 

cv. — Rama's  Speech 

cvi.— Bharat's  Speech, 
cvii.— Rama's  Speech, 
cviii.— Javali's  Speech, 
cix.— The  Praises  of  Truth, 
ex.— The  Sons  of  Ikshvaku. 
cxi. — Counsel  to  Bharat.  ... 

cxii.— The  Sandals 

cxiii.— Bharat's  Return.    ... 
cxiv.—Bharat's  Departure, 

cxv.— Nandigram 

cxvi. — The  Hermit's  Speech 
cxvii. — Anasuya. 
cxviii.— Anasuya's  Gifts, 
cxix. — The  Forest. 

BOOK  III. 

TO  i. — The  Hermitage, 
ii. — Viradha. 
iii. — Viradha  Attacked, 
iv.— Viradha's  Death. 
v.— Sarabhanga. 
vi. — Rama's  Promise, 
vii. — Sutikshna. 
•viii.— The  Hermitage, 
ix,— Sita's  Speech. 
x. — Rama's  Reply, 
xi.— Agastya. 
xii.— The  Heavenly  Bow. 
xiii.— Agastya's  Counsel, 
xiv. — Jatayus. 
xv. — Pane  hav  ati. 
xvi. —  Winter, 
x  vii.— Surpanakha. 
xviii. — The  Mutilation. 
xix, — The  Rousing  of  Khara. 
xx.— The  Giants'  Death, 
xxi.— The  Rousing  of  Khara. 
xxii.— Khara's  Wrath, 
xxiii. — The  Omens, 
xxiv. — The  Host  in  Sight, 
xxv.— The  Battle, 
xxvi. — Dushan's  Death, 
xxvii. — The  Death  of  Trisiras. 
xxviii. — Khara  Dismounted, 
xxix. — Khara's  Defeat, 
xxx.— Khara's  Death. 


Page 

Page 

,   211 

CANTO  xxxi.—  Ravan.                    ...    265 

xxxii.—  Ravan  Roused.       ...    267 

213 

xxxiii.  —  Surpanakha's  Speech.  268 

214 

xxxiv.  —  Surpanakha's  Speech.  269 

215 

xxxv.  —  Ravan's  Journey.   ...     270 

216 

xxxvi.—  Ravan's  Speech.    ...    271 

217 

xxxvii.  —  Marie  ha's  Speech.      272 

217 

xxxviii.  —  Marieha's  Speech.    273 

219 

xxxix.—  Marioha's  Speech.       274 

220 

xl.  —  Ravan's  Speech.           ...    275 

221 

xli.—Mancha's  Reply.  '      ...    276 

222 

xlii.  —  Maricha  Transformed.  277 

223 

xliii.—  The  Wondrous  Deer.     278 

224 

xliv.—  Maricha's  Death.     ...    280 

i.  225 

xlv.  —  Lakshman's  Departure.  281 

226 

xlvi.—  The  Guest.                ...    282 

226 

xlvii.  —  Ravan's  Wooing.            284 

228 

xlviii.  —  Ravan's  Speech.    ...    285 

xlix  .—  The  Rape  of  Sita.    ...    286 

1.—  Jatayus.                          ...    288 

,    229 

15.—  The  Combat.                ...    289 

.     230 

Iii.—  Ravan's  Flight.          ...    290 

.    231 

liii.—  Sita's  Threats.           ...    292 

.    232 

liv.—  Lanka.                        ...    293 

.    233 

Iv.  —  Sita  in  Prison.            ...    294 

235 

Ivi.—  Sita's  Disdain.            ...    295 

.    236 

Ivii.—  Sita  Comforted.        ...    293 

.    237 

Iviii.  —  The  Brothers'  Meeting.  297 

.    237 

lix.  —  Rama's  Return.           ..    298 

.    239 

Ix.  —  Lakshman  Reproved.        299 

.    239 

]xi.—  .Rama's  Lament.        ...    300 

.    243 

Ixii.  —  Rama's  Lament.       ...    301 

.    244 

Ixiii.  —  Rama's  Lament.      ...    302 

.    245 

Ixiv.  —  Rama's  Lament.      ...    303 

.    247 

Ixv.—  Rama's  Wrath.          ...    304 

.    248 

Ixvi.—  Lakshman's  Speech.       306 

249 

Ixvii.  —  Rama  Appeased.     ...    307 

250 

Ix  viii.—  Jatayus.                  ...    308 

i.  251 

Ixix.—  The  Death  of  Jatayus.    309 

252 

Ixx.—  Kabandha.                 ...    310 

i.  253 

Ixxi.—  Kabandha's  Speech.       312 

254 

Ixxii.—  Kabandha's  Tale.   ...    312 

255 

Ixxiii.—  Kabandha's  Counsel.  314 

256 

Ixxiv.—  Kabandha's  Death.       315 

257 

Ixxv.  —  £avari.           316 

259 

Ixxvi.—  Pampa  317 

ts.  260 

.    261 

BOOK  IV. 

,    262 

CANTO  i.—  Rama's  Lament.           ...    319 

,    263 

ii.—Sugriva's  Alarm.         ...    324 

Page 

CANTO  Ixxv.—The  Night  Attack. .  .  434 
xciii. — Ravan's  Lament.  ...  485 
xcvi.— Ravan's  Sally.  ...  486 
c.—  Ravan  in  the  Field.  ...  487 
ci.— Lakshman's  Fall.  ...  487 
cii. — Lakshman  Healed.  ...  4S8 
ciii. — Indra's  Car.  ...  488 
cvi.— Glory  to  the  Sun.  ...  489 
cviii— The  Battle.  ...  490 
cix.— The  Battle  ...  491 
ex. — llavan's  Death.  ...  491 
cxi. — Vibhishan's  Lament ...  491 
cxii.— The  Rakshas  Dames.  492 
cxiii. — Mandodari's  Lament.  492 
cxiv. — Vibhishan  Conse- 
crated. '  ...  493 
cxv. — Sita's  Joy.  ...  494 
cxvi. — The  Meeting.  ...  495 
cxvii.— Sita's  Disgrace.  ...  495 


CANTO  cxviii.—  Sita's  Keply. 

cxix.— Glory  to  Vishnu.     ... 
cxx.— Sita  Restored.' 

cxxi.— Dasaratha 

cxxii. — Indra's  Boon, 
cxxiii. — The  Magic  Car.    ... 
cxxiv. — The  Departure. 
cxxv. — The  Return. 
cxxvi. — Bharat  Consoled. ... 

cxxvii — Rama's  Message 

cxxviii. — Hanuiuan's  Story, 
cxxix. — The  Meeting  with 

Bharat. 
cxxx. — The  Consecration. 


APPENDIX 

Uttarakanda. 
Additional  Notes. 
Index  of  Principal  Names. 


NOTE. 


a  is  pronounced  like  u     in  fun. 

a  II  ke  a     in  father. 

e  like  a     in  fate. 

i  like  i      in  fill. 

i  like  ee    in  feel. 

u  like  u     in  full. 

u  like  u     in  flute, 

ai  like  i      in  fire, 

au  like  ou  in  foul. 

y     is  a  consonant  only. 
&     is  pronounced  nearly  as  sh. 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  subject  of  the  Ramayan,  the  great  national  epic  of  the  Hindus,  their  one  com- 
mon and  everlasting  possesssion.  is,  as  the  name  implies,1  the  life  and  adventures  of 
Ratna.  These  adventures  are  briefly  summarized  in  the  introductory  cantos  of  the 
poem  and  do  not  require  to  be  dwelt  upon  here.  The  great  exploit  and  main  subject 
of  the  epic  is  the  war  which  Rama  waged  with  the  giant  Ravan.  the  fierce  and  mighty 
King  of  Lanka  or  Ceylon  and  the  dread  oppressor  of  Gods  and  nymphs  and  saints  and 
men.  '  The  army,'  to  borrow  the  words  of  Gorresio,  '  which  Rama  led  on  this  expedi- 
tion was,  as  appears  from  the  poern,  gathered  in  great  part  from  the  region  of  the 
Vindhyan  hills,  but  the  races  which  he  assembled  are  represented  in  the  poem  as 
monkeys,  either  out  of  contempt  for  their  barbarism  or  because  at  that  time  they 
•were  little  known  to  the  Sanskrit-speaking  Hindus,  The  people  against  whom  Rama 
waged  war  are,  as  the  poem  indicates  in  many  places,  different  in  origin,  in  civiliza- 
tion, and  in  worship,  from  the  Sanskrit  Indians  ;  but  the  poet  of  the  Ramayan,  in 
this  respect  like  Homer  who  assigns  to  Troy  customs,  creeds,  and  worship  similar  to 
those  of  Greece,  places  in  Ceylon,  the  seat  of  this  alien  and  hostile  people,  names, 
habits,  and  worship  similar  to  those  of  Sanskrit.  India.  The  poet  calls  the  people 
whom  Rama  attacked  Rakshasas.  Rakshasas,  according  to  the  popular  Indian  be- 
lief, are  malignant  beings,  demons  of  many  shapes,  terrible  and  cruel,  who  disturb 
the  sacrifices  and  the  religious  rites  of  the  Brahmans.  It  appears  indubitable  that 
the  poet  of  the  Ramayan  applied  the  hated  name  of  Rakshasas  to  an  abhorred  and 
hostile  people,  and  that  this  denomination  is  here  rather  an  expression  of  hatred  and 
horror  than  a  real  historical  name. 

Such,  reduced  to  its  bare  simplicity,  is  the  fundamental  idea  of  the  Ramayan, 
a  war  of  two  hostile  races  di ffering  in  origin,  civilization,  and  worship.  But.  as  is 
the  case  in  all  primitive  epopeas,  around  this  idea  as  a  nucleus  have  gathered 
elements  of  every  kind  drawn  from  the  very  vitals  of  Indian  tradition,  and  worked 
up  by  the  ancient  poet  to  embody  his  lofty  epic  conception.  The  epopea  received 
and  incorporated  the  traditions,  the  ideas,  the  beliefs,  the  myths,  the  symbols  of 
that  civilization  in  the  midst  of  which  it  arose,  and  by  the  weaving  in  and  arranging 
of  all  these  vast  elements  it  became  the  complete  and  faithful  expression  of  a  whole 
ancient  period  ;  and  in  fact  the  epopea  is  nothing  but  a  system  which  represents 
poetically  those  ideas  of  a  people  which  the  philosophical  systems  expound  theo- 
retically.'2 

Other  scholars  will  not  concede  even  this  historical  basis  to  the  exploits  celebrated 
in  the  poem.  'Professor  Weber  is  of  opinion  (Hist,  of  Ind.  Lit.  p.  181.)  that  the 
principal  characters  who  figure  in  the  Ramayan  are  not  historical  personages  at  all, 

1  From  Rama  and  ayana,  Rama's  Adventures.    Schlegel  Latinizes  the  Sanskrit 
title  into  Rameis.    In  conformity  with  Indian  custom  I  write  Ramayan  with  the 
dental  or  undotted  V  and  without  the  final  'a,'  as  we  speak  of  the  Iliad  and 

and  not  of  the  Ilias  and  JEneis. 

2  GOREESIO,  Rdmdyan,  Vol.  VI.  Preface, 


ii  INTRODUCTION. 

but  mere  personifications  of  certain  events  and  circumstances.  Sita  (the  furrow)  he 
remarks,  occurs  both  in  the  Rig-veda  [R.  V.  IV,  57.  6]  and  in  the  Grihya  ritual  as 
an  object  of  worship,  and  represents  the  A'ryan  agriculture,  while  he  regards  Rama 
as  the  ploughman  personified.  The  Ramayana  has  only,  he  thinks,  a  historical 
character  in  so  far  as  it  refers  to  an  actual  occurrence,  the  diffusion  of  Aryan  civi- 
lization towards  the  south  of  the  peninsula.'1  To  attempt  to  ascertain  the  date  of 
the  events,  real  or  imaginary  related  in  the  Ramayan  would  be  a  mere  waste  of  tirne> 
I  will  only  mention  that  Sir  William  Jones  places  Rama  in  the  year  2029  B.  0.,  Tod 
in  1100,  and  Bentley  in  950.  Gorresio  would  place  him  about  the  thirteenth  century 
before  the  Christian  era.2 

The  introductory  Cantos  of  the  Ramayan  and  general  tradition  ascribe  the 
authorship  of  the  poem  to  the  inspired  Saint  Valmiki,  one  of  the  holy  company  of 
those  whose  eye  could  pierce  'The  present,  and  the  past,  and  the  to-come,'  who 
attained  the  science  of  secret  things  by 

'  Dreadful  abstinence 

And  conquering  penance  of  the  mutinous  flesh, 
Deep  contemplation,  and  unwearied  study, 
In  years  outstretched  beyond  the  date  of  man.'3 

The  same  authority  makes  V&lmiki  contemporary  with  Rama,  and  assigns  the  com- 
position of  the  poem  to  the  age  which  saw  the  accomplishment  of  the  great  enterprise 
\vhich  forms  its  subject.  '  Critical  inquiry,'  says  Lassen,  '  will  not  allow  the  actual 
authorship  of  Valmiki  and  the  handing  down  of  the  poem  unchanged  from  the 
beginning  to  pass  current;'4  while  Gorresio  maintains  that  'the  popular  tradition 
•which  makes  Valmiki  contemporary  with  Rama  and  relat.es  all  the  particulars  of 
the  first  propagation  of  the  Ramayan  appears  as  probable  and  as  worthy  of  credit 
as  any  other  ancient  fact  historically  related.'  The  internal  evidence  offered  by  the 
poem  is  sufficiently  strong  confirmation  of  its  remote  antiquity,  although  it  is  impos- 
sible to  fix  even  approximately  the  date  of  its  composition.5  Portions  of  this  and 

1  Muir's  Sanskrit  Texts,  Vol.  II.  p.  438. 

*  '  From  Rama  to  Sumitra  the  contemporary,  as  it  appears,  of  Vikramaditya 
(B.  C.  57)  fifty-six  Kings  ruled  in  succession.  By  allowing  on  a  reasonable  comput- 
ation an  average  of  a  little  more  than  twenty  years  to  each  reign  we  arrive  at  the 
thirteenth  century  before  the  Christian  era.  But  to  this  opinion  I  do  not  intend  to 
attribute  more  weight  than  that  of  a  probable  conjecture.' 

GORRESIO,  Rdm,dyant  Vol<  1.  Introduction, 

3  Shelley's  Hellas. 

4  Indisclie  Alterthumskunde,  1.  484. 

5  '  The  Greeks  did  not  acquire  any  intimate  knowledge  of  India.    They  applied 
themselves  chiefly  to  describe  the  regions,  situations,  the  climate,  the  natural  produc- 
tions of  the  Indian  soil,  the  dress,  the  arms,  and  the  customs  of  the  inhabitants.    No 
aid,  then,  can  be  hoped  for  from  the  Greeks  to  discover  the  age  of  the  Ramayan,  as 
nothing  can  be  concluded  against  its  antiquity  from  our   finding   no  mention   of   it 
in  the  works  of  those  writers.    Nor  can  precise  data  be  obtained  even  frcm  Indian 
•writers,  data  impressed  with  a  certain  stamp  of  historical  truth,  sufficient  by  them- 
selves to  establish  the  indubitable  age  of  the  poem.    Indian  minds  were  always  more 
inclined  to  meditate  than  to  narrate,  to  launch  themselves  boldly  into  the  regions  of 
the  ideal  and  the  infinite  rather  than,  to  consign  to  memory  iu  their  reality   events 


INTRODUCTION.  Hi 

other  evidence  I  will  not  lay  before  the  reader,  gathered  chiefly  from  Gorresio's 
Introduction  to  his  magnificent  edition  of  the  Ramayan. 

1  What  I  have  said,'  observes  Gorresio,  'with  regard  to  the  antiquity  of  Rama 
may  be  applied  to  Valmiki  the  author  of  the  Ramayan,  whose  synchronism  with. 
Rama  is  indicated,  as  I  have  pointed  out,  in  the  introduction  to  the  poem,  and 
confirmed  by  two  passages  of  the  poem  itself.  In  such  a  case  the  question  would  be 
ended  and  the  antiquity  of  the  poem  proved,  although  without  determining  its  age 
with  absolute  precision,  a  difficult  question  not  in  the  case  of  the  Ramayan  only  but 
in  the  poems  of  Homer  themselves.  But  because  there  will  be  found  some  people  to 
whom  the  testimony  of  the  introduction  to  the  poem  will  appear  suspicious,  and  the 
authority  of  the  two  passages  (not  found  in  the  Bengal  recension)  doubtful,  I  will 
here  condense  the  indications  and  arguments  which  appear  to  me  to  confirm  the 
antiquity  of  the  Ramayaii.  Passing  over  the  Purana  period  I  come  to  the  era  of 
Vikramaditya  (57  B.  0.)  Here  I  find  a  poem  which  celebrates  in  a  compendious 
form  the  exploits  sung  in  the  Ramayan,  I  mean  the  Raghuvaiisa  of  Kalidasa.1  The 
poet  himself  in  his  introduction  gives  direct  testimony  that  preceding  poets  have 
opened  the  way  for  him  in  this  same  subject.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that 
amongst  these  poets  Valmiki  is  certainly  comprised,  the  copious  and  original  source 
of  all  the  poems  which  celebrate  the  deeds  of  Rama.  As  I  proceed  beyond  the  age 
of  Kalidasa  there  appears  before  me  a  great  epic  monument  to  which  Indian  tradi- 
tion ascribes  a  most  remote  antiquity  so  far  as  to  make  Vyasa  the  compiler  of  the 
Vedas  its  author.  This  monument  is  the  Mahabharata,  I  bow  before  this  colossal 
epic  :  but  without  wishing  to  detract  from  its  antiquity,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  declare 
it  less  ancient  than  the  Ramayan.  And  here  I  first  observe  that  when  we  speak  of 
the  antiquity  of  a  literary  monument,  especially  an  epic  one,  we  must  distinguish 
the  elements  of  which  it  is  composed  from  the  arranging  hand  which  collected  and 
put  them  together.  These  elements  may  be  most  ancient  ;  and  so  are  in  fact  the 
elements  of  the  Mahabharata  :  the  work  of  arranging  and  uniting  them  may  be 
more  or  less  ancient.  And  it  is  precisely  this  work  of  union  and  arrangement  in  the 
Mahabharata  which  I  affirm  to  be  later  than  that  in  the  Ramayan.  If  this  posteri- 
ority were  not  declared  in  the  Mahabharata  itself  which  says  that  the  exploits  of 
Rama  had  already  been  sung  by  Valmiki  inspired  by  Narada,  it  would  be  sufficiently 
proved  by  the  fact  that  there  is  embodied  in  the  Mahabharata  a  summary  of  the 
Ramuyan  of  Valmiki  in  the  same  order  and  very  often  in  the  same  words.  Besides 
the  life  and  worship  of  Krishna  celebrated  in  the  Mahabharata  indicate  an  age  later 

than  the  Ramayan  in  which  there  is  no  mention  of  Krishna  or   Krishnaism 

The  invention  of  the  sloka  attributed  to  Valmiki  in  the  introduction  to  the  Ramayan 

appears  to  confirm  the  antiquity  of  the  poem It  should  be  observed  that  the 

sloku  is  not  only  mentioned  in  the  Rig-veda  but  the  very  metre  is  used.  How  can 
these  apparent  contradictions  be  reconciled  ?  Tradition  says  that  Valmiki  was  the 
inventor  of  the  sloka  and  that  he  first  made  use  of  it  in  the  Ramayan  :  but  in  the 
Ramayan  the  Vedas  are  very  frequently  spoken  of  in  which  the  sloka  is  both  men- 
tioned and  employed.  It  may  be  that  the  hymns  referred  to  are  later  than  the 

Ramayan  ;  but  at  present  we  must  be  content  to  leave  the  difficulty  unsolved 

The  Ramayan  is  mentioned   in  the  Rajatarangini   (Rajatarangini,   Histoire  des 

circumscribed  within  narrow  limits  :  in  one  word,  history  was  checked  by  contempla- 
tion and  poesy.'  GOKRESIO. 

1  A  later  date  is  by  most  scholars  assigned  to  this  poem. 


IV  INTRODUCTION. 

Rois  du  Krchmir,  par  M.  A.  Troyer,   LIB.  I.  £L,   166.).    Damodara,  second   of   that 
name   among  the  kings  of  Kashmir,   was   cursed  by   certain    B rah  mans,    and  the 
malediction  was  to  cease  on  the  day  on  which  he  should   hear   the  entire  Rarnj'iyan. 
recited.    Now  Damodara  the  Second,  in  the  series  of  the   l>ings  of  Kashmir,  precedes 
by  five  kings  Gonarda  the  Third  who   according  to  the   computation  of  M.    Troyer, 
the  sagacious  and  learned  translator  and   commentator  of  the  History  of  Kashmir, 
is  to  be  placed  in  the  year  1182   before  Christ  (Rajatarangini.   Tom.  II.   p.  375), 
Reckoning  backward  from  this  point  to   Damodara   the   Second   through  an  interval 
of  five  reigns  the  average  duration  of  each  of  which   is  about  twenty-four  years,  we 
arrive  at  the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century  before   the  Christian  era.     I  am  far 
from  wishing  to  attribute  any  great   precision  to  these  chronological  computations, 
nor  do  I  pretend  to  determine  exactly  the  age  of  the    Ramtiyan.  but  I  maintain  that 
from  the  passage  of  the  Rajatarangini   cited  the  remote  antiquity  of  the  poem  may 
with  all  confidence  be  inferred.    This  antiquity  is  confirmed   by  the   various  popular 
traditions  diffused  through  the  whole  of  India  upon  the  epopeaof  Valmiki,  upon  the 
exploits  which  are  celebrated  in  it,  upon  the  principal  actors  in  that  great  epic  drama, 
since  traditions  and  popular  legends   gather   round   ancient   monuments  as    ivy  and 
parasitical  plants  cling  only  to  the  trunks  of  aged   oaks.    The  whole  of  India  is  full 
of  such  legends  originated  by  the  celebrity   of  the  epic  of  Valmiki.    The  fame  of 
Rama  and  of  Hanuman   his  mighty  ally,    accompanied   with  popular  legends,  has 
penetrated  into  the  most  remote  parts  of  the  southern  regions  of  India  and  even  into 
Tibet.    A  proof  of  the  antiquity  of  the   Ramayan  is  the  fact  that   many  poets  both 
dramatic   and  epic  have   had   recourse  to   the  great   fountain  of  his  poem  as  the 
Grecian  poets  have  drawn  their  materials  from   the  epics  of  Homer,    The  antiquity 
of  the  Ram  a  van  is  proved  by  the  numerous  various  readings  which  are  found  in  it 
and  which  can  have  arisen  only  from  its  antiquity  and  its  diffusion  by  many  mouths 
through  distant  regions.    And  as  an  epic  poem  is  the    faithful   image  of  the  creeds, 
the  cult,  the  customs  of  the  age  in  which  it  arose,  so  finding  no  mention  of  a  creed, 
a  cult,  a  custom,  or  a  region  in  an  epic  is  a  very  probable  indication  that  it  did  not 
exist  when  the  poem  was  composed.     It  is   worthy  of  being  remarked   that   in  the 
Ramayan  no  traces  are  found  of  that  mystic  devotion  which  absorbs  all  the  faculties 
of  man,  of  that  passionate,  ardent  worship  called  bhakti  which  is  not  of  the  greatest 
antiquity  but  still  must  have  sprung  up   before  our  era,   as  it    is   mentioned  in  the 
Mahabharata.    There  are  indeed  iu  the  Ramayan  examples  of  prodigious  austerities, 
but  these  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  religion  called  bhakti,  and  spring  from  another 
cause,  a  principle  more  profound.    They  appear  to  have  been  originated  by  an  inner 
feeling,  deeply  rooted  and  of  great  antiquity  in  India,    that  is  to  say  that  expiation 
was   to  restore   fallen  human    nature.    Nor  is   there   found   in   the  Ramayan  any 
mention  of  Buddha  or  Buddhism,   although   other   heterodox  creeds  are  spoken  of. 
Nor  is  the    Island  of  Ceylon   against  which   the  expedition  of  Rama  was  directed 
called  Taprobane  or  Tamraparni,  or  Palesimundu  or   Palisimanta,  names  anterior  by 
eome  centuries  to  the  Christian  era.     Nor  is  it  even  called  by  the  name  of  Sinhala 
(Seat  of  Lions)  which   name  is   connected  with  the    occupation   of  the  island  by 
Vijaya  several  centuries  before  our  era.    The  name  which  Ceylon  bears  in  the  Rama- 
yan is  always  the  primitive,  the  most  ancient,   Lanka.    I  could   adduce  many  other 
conjectural    proofs  of  the  antiquity  of  the  Ramayan,  such  for  instance  as  the  nature 
of  the  style,  and   its   qualifying,   as   Homer  does,   with   nich   epithets  as  venerable, 
benign,  divine,  the  night,  the  day,  the  woods,  the  mountains,  and  the  rivers. 


INTRODUCTION.  V 

Colonel  Sykes,  in  his  dissertation  inserted  in  the  Journal  of  the  Royal  Asiatic 
Society  (Vol.  VII.  pp.  248  ff.),  finding  that  the  celebrated  Chine.se  Buddhist  Fa  Hian 
who  visited  India  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  and  beginning  of  the  fifth  century  after 
Christ  makes  no  mention  when  in  Ayodhya,  the  capital  of  Rama's  kingdom,  either 
of  Rarna  or  the  Ramayan,  thinks  it  may  be  doubted  whether  the  poem  existed  at 
that  time.  If  there  is  no  more  reason  than  this  to  doubt  the  antiquity  of  the  Rama- 
yan  we  need  not  be  alarmed.  In  fact  what  did  the  Chinese  Buddhist  see  in  his  long 
journey  through  India,  what  has  he  observed  or  described,  except  Buddhist  monasteries, 
Buddhist  temples,  Buddhist  priests.  Buddhist  traditions,  Buddhist  doctrines,  Buddhist 
heterodoxies  ?  Everything  that  had  no  connection  with  Buddhism  either  of  agree- 
ment or  opposition  was  neglected  by  him  as  out  of  the  line  of  his  object. 

One  apparent  difficulty  seems  to  result  from  the  mention  of  the  Yavanas  which 
is  found  in  the  first  Book  of  the  Ramayan.  The  name  of  Yavanas,  used  in  India  to 
indicate  the  Greeks  after  the  time  of  Alexander,  may  in  this  place  appear  subject  to 
suspicion.  With  regard  to  this  see  the  excellent  remarks  of  von  Schlegei  (Ramayan, 
Vol.  I.  Part  II.  p.  1G8).  The  name  of  Yavanas  may  have  been  anciently  used  by  the 
Indians  to  denote  the  nations  situated  to  the  west  of  India:  more  recently,  that  is 
after  the  time  of  Alexander,  it  was  applied  principally  to  the  Greeks,'1 

It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  every  one  will  admit  the  cogency  of  all  the  argu- 
ments in  favour  of  the  great  antiquity  of  the  Ramayan  adduced  by  the  ingenious 
and  enthusiastic  scholar  from  whom  I  have  quoted;  but  few  who  have  read  the  poem 
will  refuse  to  concur  at  least  in  the  sober  judgment  of  the  writer  of  an  excellent, 
article  on  the  Ramayan  in  Vol.  L.  of  the  Westminster  Review:  *  We  are  ignorant  of 
the  date  of  the  poem,  or  rather  of  the  era  to  which  its  older  parts  belong.  Probably 
Valmiki  and  Homer  were  contemporaries;  perhaps  the  Hindu  was  the  earlier  of  the 
two,  and  sang  his  song  while  that  Ilion  was  a  reality,  which  to  Homer  rose  in  the 
back -ground  of  two  or  three  generations.  Our  limits  forbid  us  to  enter  into  any 
detailed  proof,  nor  indeed  could  any  be  quite  satisfactory;  the  best  arguments  for  its 
age  are  found  in  the  poem  itself,  and  the  habits  and  manners  which  it  describes. 
Thus  the  burning  of  widows  on  the  funeral  piles  of  their  husbands,  which  the  Greeks 
describe  as  an  old  custom  when  Alexander  inxraded  India-,  B.  C.  327.  is  utterly  un- 
known in  the  Ramayana,  and  one  fact  like  this  speaks  volumes.  In  such  poems  as 
the  Ramayana  and  the  Iliad  we  instinctively  feel  that  they  belong  to  the  earlier 
world:  we  enter  them  as  we  enter  a  house  in  Pompeii — the  colours  may  still  seem 
fresh,  and  no  mark  of  decay  remind  us  of  their  age,  but  we  feel  that  they  belong  not 
to  us  or  ours,  and  a  gulf  of  ages  lies  between  us  and  our  objects.' 

The  Ramayan  is  divided  into  seven  Books,  but  the  action  of  the  poem  ends  with 
the  sixth,  and  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  seventh  Book  is  a  later 
addition.  This  last  Book  or  Uttara  Kaiida,  'contains  various  stories,  legends,  and 
traditions,  which  still  have  some  connection  of  affinity  with  the  principal  poem.  The 

mythical  origin  of  the  Rakshasas  is  there  related with  the  banishment  of  Sita. 

and  her  giving  birth  in  the  hermitage  of  Valmiki  to  twin  sons,  Kusa  and  Lava,  who 
were  the  first  rhapsodists  or  *  aoidoi '  of  the  Ramayan,  and  other  traditions  and 
legends  only  distantly  connected  with  the  Ramayan  properly  so  called.'54  The  whole 
contains  about  24.000  verses,  chiefly  slokes  or  heroic  distichs  of  thirty-two  syllables 
each,  with  verses  of  a  different  metre  occasionally  introduced  or  interpolated,  especi- 
ally at  the  end  of  a  canto. 

1  GOBRESIO,  Rdmdyan,  Vol.  I,  Introduction,  2  GOBKESIO. 


T!  INTRODUCTION. 

'The  poem  has  evidently  undergone  considerable  alteration  since  the  time  of  its 
first  composition,  but  still  underneath  all  the  subsequent  additions  the  original 
elements  are  preserved,  and  careful  criticism  might  perhaps  separate  the  interpolations 
and  present  the  more  genuine  parts  as  a  whole  by  themselves,  The  task  however, 
would  be  difficult,  and  perhaps  as  impracticable  as  it  has  proved  in  the  Homeric 
poems.  For  many  ages  it  is  certain  that  the  work  existed  only  by  oral  tradition,  and 
each  rhapsodist  added  or  altered  at  his  pleasure,  or  to  suit  the  taste  or  vanity  of  the 
princely  families  whom  he  served.  The  measure  of  the  poem,  moreover,  is  of  a 
somewhat  fatal  facility,  and  many  rhapsodists  would  naturally  be  ambitious  of 
mingling  their  own  songs  with  those  of  their  bards,  and  the  habit  of  repetition  would 
at  once  supply  them  with  a  vocabulary  of  epic  phrases  to  suit  their  purpose.  Whole 
chapters  thus  betray  their  origin  by  their  barrenness  of  thought  and  laborious  mimi- 
cry of  the  epic  spirit,  which  in  the  case  of  the  old  poets  had  spontaneously  burst  out 
of  the  heart's  fulness  like  the  free  song  of  a  child.  But  when  the  Indian  Pisistratua 
arose  who  collected  these  separate  songs  and  reduced  them  to  their  present  shape,  the 
genuine  and  spurious  were  alike  included,  and  no  Hindu  critic  ever  appears  to  have 
attempted  to  discriminate  between  them.  With  regard  to  the  Ramayana  it  appears 
to  have  undergone  two  distinct  revisions,  one  in  Benares  and  the  other  in  Bengal, 
and  as  the  two  were  accomplished  without  any  reference  or  relation  to  each  other, 
they  naturally  present  many  varieties  in  their  texts.  The  same  thoughts  and  events 
are  generally  preserved  in  both,  but  the  words  and  order  of  the  verses  continually 
differ,  as  would  naturally  be  the  case  when  the  revisions  were  made  from  the  oral 
traditions  of  two  different  schools  of  rhapsodists  from  each  of  which  the  poem  had 
been  undergoing  a  long  series  of  alterations  such  as  those  we  have  suggested  above.'1 

Notwithstanding  Gorresio's  able  and  enthusiastic  advocacy  of  what  he  considers 
the  superior  claims  of  the  Bengal  recension  of  the  Ramayan,  it  is  generally  allowed 
by  European  scholars  that  the  Benares  or  North-West  recension  is  the  more  genuine. 
Of  the  former  there  is  a  magnificent  edition  by  Gorresio,  published  at  the  expense 
of  Charles  Albert,  late  King  of  Sardinia.  The  text  is  printed  in  a  style  that  cannot 
be  surpassed  in  an  country,  and  an  Italian  prose  translation  of  the  whole  accompanies 
it  'which  may  be  equalled  but  not  surpassed  in  any  other  of  the  languages  of 
Europe.  In  his  translation  he  has  carefully  preserved  a  Dantesque  idiom  and  form 
of  expression,  free  from  all  local  patois  ;  his  rendering  is  most  faithful,  and  his 
language  elegent  and  spirited.'2*  The  Benares  recension  has  been  less  fortunate.  In  the 
years  1805—1810  Carey  and  Marshman,  the  venerable  Missionaries  of  Serampore, 
published  the  text  and  English  translation  of  two  Books  and  a  half  or  about  one 
third  of  the  entire  poem,3  but  these  volumes  have  long  been  out  of  print  and  unpro- 
curable, and  they  '  are  very  inferior  as  productions  of  literary  art,  though  no  blame 

1  Westminster  Review,  Vol,  L. 

55  Calcutta  Review,  Vol.  XXIII.    The  Rd  may  ana. 

3  '  The  gentlemen  who  compose  the  Committee  (of  the  Asiatic  Society  of  Bengal) 
have  made  choice  of  the  Ramayan  of  Valmiki  to  be  the  first  in  the  series  of  trans- 
lations from  the  Sanskrit.  The  reverence  in  which  it  is  held,  the  extent  of  country 
through  which  it  is  circulated,  and  the  interesting  view  which  it  exhibits  of  the 
religion,  the  doctrines,  the  mythology,  the  current  ideas,  and  the  manners  and 
customs  of  the  Hiudus,  combine  to  justify  their  election,'  Advertisement  to  Carey 
and  Marshman 's  edition  of  the  Rdmdyan. 


INTRODUCTION.  Vll 

attaches  to  the  excellent  men  who  publshed  their  work  in  the  very  dawn  of  oriental 
studies,'1  In  the  year  1846  the  great  William  von  Schlegel  published  the  text  of 
the  nrst  two  Books  with  a  Latin  translation  of  the  first  and  part  of  the  second,  This 
edition  is  to  some  extent  an  eclectic  one  ;  it  is  founded  on  the  North-West  recension 
but  sometimes  admits  passages  from  the  Bengal  recension  when  they  are  recom- 
mended by  any  special  excellence.  This  work,  as  Gorresio  justly  says,  '  bears  the 
impress  of  that  critical  acumen,  of  that  profound  judgment,  of  that  artistic  sense, 
for  which  he  is  so  renowned.'  An  admirable  edition  of  the  North- West  recension 
with  a  commentary,  has  lately  been  lithographed  at  Bombay,  and  a  rather  inferior 
printed  edition  has  been  published  in  Calcutta.  The  late  M.  Hippolyte  Fauche,  the 
most  intrepid  and  indefatigable  of  translators  from  the  Sanskrit,  has  given  to  the 
world  a  French  version  of  Gorresios'  edition.2  Thus  the  Bengal  recension  has  been 
translated  into  Italian  and  French;  but  there  is  no  English  version  of  either  recension, 
and  only  a  small  portion  of  the  North -West  recension  has  been  translated  into  any 
European  tongue.  This  fact  alone  will,  I  trust,  be  regarded  as  a  sufficient  reason  or 
excuse  for  the  present  attempt  to  reproduce  the  Ramayan  in  an  English  dress.  The 
poem  can  hardly  be  denied  a  high  place  among  the  great  epics  of  the  world,  and  it 
is  surely  desirable  that  Englishmen— especially  those  who  are  more  immediately 
connected  with  India— should  at  least  be  enabled,  if  they  choose,  to  become  acquainted 
with  it.3 

My  first  object  has  been  to  reproduce  the  original  poem  as  faithfully  as  circum- 
stances permit  me  to  do.  For  this  purpose  I  have  preferred  verse  to  prose.  The 
translations  of  the  Iliad  by  Chapman  and  Worsley--uay,  even  by  translators  of  far 
inferior  poetical  powers— are,  I  think,  much  more  Homeric  than  any  literal  prose 

1  Gorresio  says:  'With  regard  to  the  merits  of  this  work  I  will  add  nothing  to 
the  severe  but  just  judgment  passed  upon  it  by  the  illustrious  William  von  Schlegel 
who  found  it  a  work  without   skill  or  critical  discernment,  abounding  in  faults  and 

worthless  in  every  part.' 

2  One  Canto,  in  the  four  versions,  will  be  found  in  Appendix  B. 

3  The  Rainayana  and  Maha-bharata.  unlike  the  Iliad  and  the  Odysey,  are  closely 
connected  with  the  present  religious  faith  of  millions;  and  these  millions,  be  it  remem- 
bered, acknowledge  British  sway,  and  have  a  right  to  expect  the  British  public  to 
take  an  interest  in  works  which  are  the  time-honoured  repository  of  their  legendary 
history  and  mythology,  of  their  ancient  customs  and  observances,  as  well  as  of  their 
most  cherished  gems  of  poetry.    It  needs  no  argument  to  show  that  some  knowledge 
of  the  two  great   Indian   Epics  ought  to  be  required  of  all  who  hold  office  in  India, 
whether  in  the  Civil  Service,  or  in   any  other  capacity.     Nor   is  it   right,  or  even 
possible,   for  Englishmen  generally  to  remain   any   longer    wholly  ignorant  of  the 
nature  and  contents  of  these  poems.     British  India  is  now  brought  so  close  to  us  by 
steam  and  electricity,  and  the  present  condition  of  the  Hiadii  community,  social, 
political,  and  religious,  forces  itself  so  peremptorily  on  our  attention,  that  the  duty 
of  studying  the  past  history  of  our  Eastern  empire,  so  far  as  it  can  be  collected  from 
ancient  Sanskrit  literature,  can  no  longer  be  evaded  by  educated  men.    Hitherto  the 
Indian  Epics,  which,  in  the  absence  of  all  real  history,  are  the  only  guides  to  the  early 
condition  of  our  Hindu  fellow-subjects,  have  been  sealed  books  to  the   majority 
of  Englishmen.' 

Indian,  Epic  Poetry.    By  MONI  EK  WILLIAMS,  M.  A.,  Preface,  111,  IV. 


Viii  INTRODUCTION. 

rendering  can  possibly  be.  In  the  latter  we  may  find  the  '  disjecti  membra  poetae,' 
but  all  the  form  and  the  life  are  gone,  for  '  the  interpenetration  of  matter  and 
manner  constitute  the  very  soul  of  poetry.'  I  have  but  seldom  allowed  myself  to 
amplify  or  to  condense,  or  omit  apparently  needless  repetitions,  but  have  attempted 
rather  to  give  the  poet  as  he  is  than  to  represent  him  as  European  taste  might  prefer 
him  to  be.  Comparisons,  therefore,  which  to  English  readers  will  appear  vulgar  or 
rediculous  have  been  left  unaltered,  and  long  passages  of  unutterable  tediousness 
re-appear  in  my  version  with,  probably,  their  tediousness  enhanced.  I  may  observe, 
with  all  respect  for  Valmiki,  that  the  Ramayan,  even  in  the  sonorous  and  dignified 
Sanskrit,  will  hardly  bear  reading  through,  and  I  am  sure  that  the  translation 
will  not.  Valmiki's  work  is  not  much  read  even  in  India,  although  the  Hindi 
refaccimento  by  the  poet  Tulsidas  is  more  popular  and  more  honoured  by  the  people 
of  the  North-Western  Provinces  that  the  Bible  is  by  the  corresponding  classes  in 
England.  The  poem,  it  should  be  remembered,  was  in  ancient  times  recited  and 
not  read;  the  audience  that  gathered  round  the  rhapsodist  might  be  continually 
changing,  and  each  hearer  would  probably  listen  to  a  few  consecutive  cantos  only. 
It  is  true  that  one  unfortunate  king  mentioned  in  the  Rajataranginl  was  condemned 
to  remain  under  the  malediction  of  the  Brahmans  until  he  should  have  heard  the 
whole  Ramayan  recited  at  one  sitting.1  But  it  may  be  doubted  which  alternative 
he  preferred  ;  and  this  is  quite  an  exceptional  case. 

The  metre  I  have  adopted  has  been  chosen  after  long  consideration  and  many 
experiments.  It  is  not,  I  know,  the  exact  equivalent  of  Valmiki's  sloka  or  heroic 
distich,  with  which  it  cannot  compare  in  gravity  or  grandeur.  I  would  generally 
prefer  other  metres  for  free  translations  of  short  extracts  or  scenes  from  the  poem, 
but  for  a  translation  of  the  entire  work  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  the  octosyllabic 
metre  fairly  represents  the  original,  and  at  the  same  time  1  find  that  it  suits  me  best. 
The  sloka,  as  I  have  already  said,  consists  of  two  lines  of  sixteen  syllables  or,  rather, 
four  lines  of  eight  syllables  each,  only  four  of  which  are  fixed  in  quantity,  the  others 
being  optionally  long  or  short.2  It  corresponds  then  roughly  to  four  lines  of  the 

1  This  reminds  one  of  Macaulay's  story  of  the  Italian  criminal  'who  was  suffered 
to  choose  between  Guicciardini  and  the  gallej's.  fle  chose  the  History.  But  the  war 
of  Pisa  was  too  much  for  him.  He  changed  his  mind,  and  went  to  the  oar.' 

a  *  This  verse  is  a  stanza  or  $loka,  which,  with  some  exceptions,  consists  of  two 
lines  or  hemistichs  :  each  of  these  is  again  subdivided  into  two  parts:  so  that  the 
entire  stanza  is  for  the  most  part  a  tetrastich,  composed  of  four  Padas  or  Charanas, 
literally  '  feet,'  or,  in  our  understanding  of  the  term,  lines  or  semi  hemistichs  ;  the 
intervals  between  the  first  and  second,  and  third  and  fourth  of  which  are  not  always 
go  distinctly  marked,  as  that  between  the  second  and  third 

This  is  by  far  the  most  frequent  and  useful  form  of  Sanskrit  verse.  It  is  that  in 
which  the  great  body  of  metrical  composition,  whether  narrative  or  didactic,  exists, 
All  works  of  considerable  extent  are  written  in  it,  relieved  by  the  occasional  intro- 
duction of  other  metres.  It  is  the  prevailing  form  of  metre  in  the  laws  of  Manu,  the 
Mahabharata,  the  Ramayana,  and  the  Puranas 

Another  rule  given  for  the  formation  of  the  Anushtup  verse  is,  that  the  fifth 
syllable  of  each  line  shall  be  short,  the  sixth  long  and  the  seventh  alternately  long 
and  short ;  whilst  the  first  four  syllables  and  the  eighth  are  arbitrary.  This  will  be 


INTRODUCTION.  lx 

octosyllabic  metre  which  will  generally  be  found  to  reproduce  it  without,  as  a  rule, 
either  condensation  or  amplification.  Blank  verse,  even  if  the  translator  could  write 
it,  would  never  represent  the  gloka,  a  verse  generally  commensurate  with  the  sentence  ; 
and  a  Sanskrit  distich  must  either  be  condensed  into  one  heroic  couplet  or  expanded 
to  rill  two. 

For  the  first  two  Rooks  I  translate  from  Schlegel's  edition,  and  from  the  Bombay 
edition  for  the  remaining  portion  of  the  poem. 

The  notes,  necessarily  brief  and  simple.  I  owe  chiefly  to  Schlegel  and  Gorresio  :  I 
have  also  borrowed  freely  from  Wilson,  Lassen,  Muir,  Max  Miiller,  Goldstucker,  and 
Professor  Monier  Williams,  English  readers  will,  I  trust,  remember  that  1  write 
partly  for  Indians,  and  Indians  that  the  notes  which  they  may  think  superfluous  are 
necessary  to  enable  Europeans  to  understand  the  poem. 

There  are  many  archaisms  in  the  original,  and  I  have  not  entirely  excluded  them 
from  my  translation.  My  verses.  1  know,  are  frequently  rough,  prosaic,  and  dull,  but 
I  believe  that  any  elaborate  polish  or  the  studied  use  of  more  modern  poetical 
phraseology  would  only  impair  still  further  their  likeness  to  the  simple  distichs  of 
Valmiki. 

Judged  by  a  European  standard  there  is  but  little  true  poetry  in  the  first  Book 
of  the  Ramayan,  and  much  of  the  aroma  of  that  little  has  probably  evaporated  in 
the  process  of  translation.  Still,  though  fully  aware  of  its  many  shortcomings,  and 
only  trusting  that  longer  study,  greater  practice,  and  the  lessons  of  intelligent 
criticism  may  make  each  succeeding  volume  less  imperfect.  I  submit  this  first  volume 
to  the  public  with  some  confidence,  as  I  am  fully  persuaded  that  the  work  when 
completed  will  supply  a  want  which  has  long  been  felt  in  India  if  not  in  England. 

I  beg  to  offer  my  sincere  thanks  to  the  Governments  of  Bengal,  the  Punjab, 
Bombay,  Mysore,  the  Central  Provinces,  and  Oudh,  for  the  liberal  aid  which,  at  the 
recommendation  of  the  several  Directors  of  Public  Instruction,  they  have  given  to 
my  undertaking  ;  and  more  especially  am  1  bound  to  render  my  best  thanks  to  the 
very  distinguished  oriental  scholar  at  the  head  of  the  Government  of  the  North- 
Western  Provinces— those  Provinces  in  which  Valmiki  composed  his  immortal  poem, 
and  in  which  this  first  metrical  translation  of  it  has  been  begun  and  will,  I  hope, 
be  completed. 

found  to  be  usually  the  form  adopted,  with  occasional  exceptions.  The  following, 
are  examples:— 

asididam  tamobhutamaprajnatamalakshanam 

apratarkyamavijneyam  prasuptamivasarvvatah 

1  This  universe  had  become  darkness,  undiscerned,  uncharacterised,  indescribable, 
incomprehensible,  as  if  everywhere  in  a  deep  sleep.'  Manu. 

.  •  r   .  j .      ~.\      -        ~  || .  |  f .     ~  -  |  -  .  || 

ma  nishada  pratishtham  twamagarnah  sasvati  samah, 

yat  kraunchamithunadekarnabadhih  kamamohitam 

'  Never,  barbarian,  mayest  thou  acquire  fame  for  endless  years,  since  thou  hast 
slain  one  of  these  birds,  heedless  through  passion.'  Ramayana.  Tradition  affirms  of 
this  that  it  is  the  first  &loka  or  auushtup  verse  ever  composed.' 

WILSON'S  Sanskrit  Grammar,  p.  436. 


THE  RlMA'YAN. 


INVOCATION.1 


Praise    to    Valmiki,2    bird  of  charming 

song,3 

Who  mounts  on  Poesy's  sublimest  spray, 
And  sweetly  sings  with  accent  clear  and 

strong 
Rama,  aye  Rama,  in  his  deathless  lay. 

Where  breathes  the  man  can  listen  to  the 

strain 
That   flows   in   music  from   Valmiki's 

tongue, 

Nor  feel  his  feet  the  path  of  bliss  attain 
When  Kama's  glory  by  the  saint  is  sung  ? 


1  TheMSS.vary  very  considerably  in  these 
stanzas  of  invocation  :    many  lines  are 
generally  prefixed  in  which  not  only  the 
poet,  but  those  who  play  the  chief  parts  in 
the   poem   are  panegyrized.      It   is  self- 
apparent  that  they  are  not  by  the  author 
of  the  Ramayan  himself. 

2  '  Valmiki  was  the  son  of  Varuna,  the 
regent  of  the  waters,  one  of  whose  names 
is  Prachetas.     According  to  the  Adhydtmd 
Rdnidyana,  the  sage,  although  a  Brahman 
by  birth,  associated  with  foresters  and 
robbers.    Attacking  on  one  occasion  the 
seven  Rishis,  they  expostulated  with  him 
successfully,  and  taught  him  the  mantra 
of  Rama  reversed,  or  Mara,  Mara,  in  the 
inaudible  repetition  of  which  he  remained 
immovable  for  thousands  of  years,  so  that 
when  the  sages  returned  to  the  same  spot 
they  found  him  still  there,  converted  into 
a  valmik  or  ant-hill,  by  the  nests  of  the 
termites,  whence  his  name  of  Valmiki.' 

WILSON.  Specimens  of  the  Hindu 

Theatre,  Vol.  I.  p.  313. 
^ '  Valmiki  is  said  to  have  lived  a  solitary 
life  in  the  woods  :  he  is  called  both  a  muni 
and  a  rishi.  The  former  word  properly 
signifies  an  anchorite  or  hermit  ;  the  latter 
has  reference  chiefly  to  wisdom.  The  two 
words  are  frequently  used  promiscuously, 
and  may  both  be  rendered  by  the  Latin 
rates  in  its  earliest  meaning  of  seer  : 
Valmiki  was  both  poet  and  seer,  as  he  is 
said  to  have  sung  the  exploits  of  Rama  by 
the  aid  of  divining  insight  rather  than  of 
knowledge  naturally  acquired.'  SCHLEGEL. 
3  Literally,  Kokila,  the  KoTl,  or  Indian 
Cuckoo.  Schlegel  translates  'lusciuium,' 


The  stream  Ramayan  leaves  its  sacred  fount 
The  whole  wide  world  from  sin  and  stain 
to  free.1 

The  Prince  of  Hermits  is  the  parent  mount, 
The  lordly  Hama  is  the  darling  sea. 

Glory  to  him  whose  fame  is  ever  bright  ! 

Glory  to  him,  Prachetas1 2  holy  son  ! 
Whose  pure  lips  quaff  with  ever  new  delight 

The  nectar-sea  of  deeds  by   Rama  done. 

Hail,  arch-ascetic,  pious,  good,  and  kind  ! 

Hail,  Saint  Valmiki,  lord  of  every  lore  1 

Hail,  holy  Hermit,  calm  and  pure  of  mind! 

Hail,  First  of  Bards,  Valmiki,  hail  once 

more  ! 


BOOK  I.3 
CANTO  I. 


NARAD.* 


To  sainted  Narad,  prince  of  those 
Whose  lore  in  words  of  wisdom  flosvs, 
Whose  constant  care  and  chief  delight 
Were  Scripture  and  ascetic  rite, 
The  good  Valmiki,  first  and  best 

1  Comparison  with  the  Ganges  is  implied, 
that  river  being  called  the  purifier  of  the 
world. 

2  'This  name  may  have  been  given  to  the 
father  of   Valmiki   allegorically.     If    we 
look  at  the  derivation  of   the  word  (pra, 
before,  and  chetas,  mind)   it  is  as  if  the 
poet  were  called  the  son  of  Prometheus,  the 
Forethinker.'     SCHLEQEL. 

3  Called  in  Sanskrit  also  Bdla-Kdnda, 
and  in   Hindi  Bdl-Kdnd,  i.  e.  the    Book 
describing  Rama's  childhood,  bdla  mean- 
ing a  boy  up  to  his  sixteenth  year. 

4  A  divine  saint,  son  of    Brahma.     He 
is  the  eloquent  messenger  of  the  Gods,  a 
musician  of  exquisite  skill,  and  the  in- 
ventor of  the  vind  or  Indian   lute.     He 
bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  Hermes  or 
Mercury. 

3  This  mystic  syllable,  said  to  typify 
the  supreme  Deity,  the  Gods  collectively, 
the  Vedas,  the  three  spheres  of  the  world, 
the  three  holy  fires,  the  three  steps  of 
Vishnu  etc.,  prefaces  the  prayers  and  most 
venerated  writings  of  the  Hindus. 


TIIE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Hook  1. 


Of  hcnr.it  sa'"nta,  these  words  addressed:1 
*  In  a:i  tlii.s  -.vor'id,  1  pray  tiiee,  wiio 
Js  virtuous,  heroic,  true  ? 
Firm  in  his  vows,  of  grateful  mind, 
To  every  creature  good  and  kind  ? 
Bounteous,  and  holy,  just,  and  wise, 
Alone  most  fair  to  all  men's  eyes? 
Devoid  of  envy,  firm,  and  sage, 
Whose  tranquil  soul  ne'er  yields  to  rage? 
"Whom,  when  his  warrior  wrath  is  high, 
Do  Gods  embattled  fear  and  fly  ? 
Whose  noble  might  and  gentle  skill 
The  triple  world  can  guard  from  ill  T 
Who  is  the  best  of  princes,  he 
Who  loves  his  people's  good  to  see  ? 
The  store  of  bliss,  the  living  mine 
Where  brightest  joys  and  virtues  shine? 
Queen  Fortune's"  best  and  dearest  friend, 
Whose  steps  her  choicest  gifts  attend  ? 
Who  may  with  Sun  and  Moon  compare, 
With  Indra,3  Vishnu,*  Fire,  and  Air? 
Grant,  Saint  divine',5  the  boon  I  ask, 
For  thee,  I  ween,  an  easy  task, 
To  whom  the  power  is  given  to  know 
If  such  a  man  breathe  here  below.' 


1  This    colloquy    is    supposed  to  have 
taken   place   about    sixteen    years    after 
Kama's  return  from  his  wanderings  and 
occupation  of  his  ancestral  throne. 

2  Called    also    £ri  and    Lakshmi,    the 
consort  of  Vishnu,  the  Queen  of  Beauty 
as  well  as  the  Dea  Fortuna.    Her  birth 
'from  the  full-flushed  wave'  is  described 
in  Canto  XLV  of  this  Book. 

3  One  of  the  most  prominent  objects  of 
worship  in  the  Rig-veda,  Indra  was  super- 
seded in  later  times  by  the  more  popular 
deities  Vishnu  and  £iva.     He  is  the  God 
of  the  firmament,  and   answers  in  many 
respects  to  the  Jupiter   Pluvius  of   the 
Romans.    See  Additional  Notes. 

4  The  second  God  of  the  Trimurti  or 
Indian  Trinity.    Derived  from  the  root 
vis  to  penetrate,  the  meaning  of  the  name 
appears  to  be  he  who  penetrates  or  pervades 
all  things.  An  embodiment  of  the  preserv- 
ing power  of  nature,  he  is  worshipped  as 
a  Saviour  who  has  nine  times  been  in- 
carnate for  the  good  of  the  world  and 
will  descend  on    earth    once    more.    See 
Additional   Notes    and    Muir's    Sanskrit 
Texts  passim. 

5  In   Sanskrit  devarshi.    Rishi    is    the 
general  appellation  of  sages,  and  another 
word  is  frequently  prefixed  to  distinguish 
the  degrees.     A  Brahmarshi  is  a  theolo- 
gian or  Brahmanical  sage  ;  a  Rajarshi  is  a 
royal  sage  or  sainted  king  ;  a  Devarshi  is 
a  divine  or  deified  sage  or  saint. 


Then  Narad,  clear  before  wh  ose  eye 
The  present,  past,  and  future  lie,1 
Made  ready  answer  :  *  Hen  nit,  where 
Are  graces  found  BO  high  and  rare  ? 
Vet  listen,  and  my  tongue  shall  tell 
In  whom  alone  these  virtues  dwell. 
From  old  Ikshvaku's*  line  he  came, 
Known  to  the  world  by  Kama's  name: 
With  soul  subdued,  a  chief  of  might, 
In  Scripture  versed,  in  glory  bright. 
His  steps  in  virtue's  paths  are  bent, 
Obedient,  pure,  and  eloquent. 
In  each  emprise  he  wins  success, 
And  dying  foes  his  power  confess. 
Tall  and  broad-shouldered,  strong  of  limb, 
Fortune  has  set  her  mark  on  him. 
Graced  with  a  conch  -shell's  triple  line, 
His  throat  displays  the  auspicious  sign.3 

1  TrlMlajha.  Literally  knower  of  the 
three  times.  Both  Schlegel  and  Gorresio 
quote  Homer's. 


r?  ra  r 


ra  T 


Trpo  r     ovra. 

*  That  sacred  seer,  whose  comprehensive  view 

The  past,  the  present,  and  the  future  knew. 

The  Bombay   edition  reads  trilokajna, 

who  knows  the  three  worlds  (earth,  air  and 

heaven.)    *  It  is  by  tapas  (austere  fervour) 

that  rishis  of  subdued  souls,  subsisting  on 

roots,  fruits  and  air,  obtain  a  vision  of  the 

three  worlds  with  all  things  moving  and 

stationary.'    MANU,  XI.  236. 

2  Son  of  Manu,  the  first  king  of  Kosala 
and  founder  of  the  solar  dynasty  or  family 
of  the  Children  of  the  Sun,  the  God   of 
that  luminary  being  the  father  of  Manu. 

3  The  Indians  paid  great  attention  to 
the  art  of  physiognomy  and  believed  that 
character  and  fortune  could  be  foretold 
not  from  the  face  only  but  from  marks 
upon   the  neck  and   hands.     Three   lines 
under  the  chin  like  those  at  the  mouth  of 
a  conch   (Sankha)    were   regarded    as  a 
peculiarly  auspicious  sign  indicating,  as 
did  also  the  mark  of  Vishnu's  discus  on 
the  hand,  one  born  to  be  a  chakravartin  or 
universal  emperor.     In  the  palmistry   of 
Europe  the  line  of  fortune,  as  well  as  the 
line  of  life,  is  in  the  hand.    Cardan  says 
that  marks  on  the  nails  and  teeth   also 
show    what  is  to  happen  to   us:    'Sunt 
etiam  in  nobis  vestigia  quaedam  futurorum 
eventuum  in  unguibus  atque  etiam  in  den- 
tibus.'    Though  the  palmy  days  of  Indian 
chiromancy   have   passed    away,  the  art 
is  still  to  some  extent  studied  and  be- 
lieved in, 


Canto 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


High  destiny  is  clear  impressed 

On  massive  jaw  and  ample  chest, 

His  mighty  shafts  he  truly  aims, 

And  foymen  in  the  battle  tames. 

Deep  in  the  muscle,  scarcely  shown, 

Embedded  lies  his  collar-bone. 

His  lordly  steps  are  linn  and  free, 

His  strong  arms  reach  below  his  knee  :l 

All  fairest  graces  join  to  deck 

His  head,  his  brow,  his  stately  neck, 

And  limbs  in  fair  proportion  set : 

The  manliest  form  e'er  fashioned  yet. 

Graced  with  each  high  imperial  mark, 

His  skin  is  soft  and  lustrous  dark. 

Large  are  his  eyes  that  sweetly  shine 

With  majesty  almost  divine. 

His  plighted  word  he  ne'er  forgets  ; 

On  erring  sense  a  watch  he  sets. 

By  nature  wise,  his  teacher's  skill 

Has  trained  him  to  subdue  his  will. 

Good,  resolute  and  pure,  and  strong, 

He  guards  mankind  from  scathe  and  wrong, 

And  lends  his  aid,  and  ne'er  in  vain, 

The  cause  of  justice  to  maintain. 

Well  has  he  studied  o'er  and  o'er 

The  Vedas*  and  their  kindred  lore. 


1  Long  arms  were  regarded  as  a  sign  of 
heroic  strength. 

2  '  Veda   means    originally  knowing  or 
knowledge,  and  this  name  is  given  by  the 
Brahman*  not  to   one  work,  but  to   the 
whole  body  of  their  most  ancient  sacred 
literature.     Veda  is  the  same  word  which 
appears  in  the  Greek  olSa,  I  know,  and 
in  the  English  wise,  wisdom,  to  wit.     The 
name  of  Veda  is  commonly  given  to  four 
collections  of  hymns,   which   are   respec- 
tively known  by  the  names  of  Rig-veda, 
Yajiir-veda,    Sama-veda,    and    Atharva- 
veda.' 

4  As  the  language  of  the  Veda,  the  Sans- 
krit, is  the  most  ancient  type  of  the  Eng- 
lish of  the  present  day,  (Sanskrit  and 
English  are  but  varieties  of  one  and  the 
same  language,)  so  its  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings contain  in  reality  the  first  roots  and 
germs  of  that  intellectual  growth  which 
by  an  unbroken  chain  connects  our  own 
generation  with  the  ancestors  of  the  Aryan 
race, — with  those  very  people  who  at  the 
rising  and  setting  of  the  sun  listened  with 
trembling  hearts  to  the  songs  of  the  Veda, 
that  told  them  of  bright  powers  above,  and 
of  a  life  to  come  after  the  sun  of  their  own 
lives  had  set  in  the  clouds  of  the  evening. 
These  men  were  the  true  ancestors  of  our 
race,  and  the  Veda  is  the  oldest  book  we 
have  in  which  to  study  the  tirst  beginning; 
of  our  language,  and  of  all  that  is  em- 
bodied in  language,  We  are  by  nature 


Well  skilled  is  he  the  bow  to  draw,1 
Well  trained  in  arts  and  versed  in  law ; 
High-souled  and  meet  for  happy  fate, 
Most  tender  and  compassionate  ; 
The  noblest  of  all  lordly  givers, 
Whom  good  men  follow,  as  the  rivers 
Follow  the  King  of  Floods,  the  sea  : 
So  liberal,  so  just  is  he. 
The  joy  of  Queen  Kausalya's2  heart, 
In  every  virtue  he  has  part : 
Firm  as  Himalaya's3  snowy  steep, 
Dnfathomed  like  the  mighty  deep  ; 
The  peer  of  Vishnu's  power  and  might, 
And  lovely  as  the  Lord  of  Night;4 
Patient  as  Earth,  but,  roused  to  ire, 
Fierce  as  the  world -destroying  fire  ; 
In  bounty  like  the  Lord  of  Gold,5 
And  Justice'  self  in  human  mould. 

With  him,  his  best  and  eldest  son, 
By  all  his  princely  virtues  won 
King  Daaaratha6  willed.to  share 
His  kingdom  as  the  Ketrent  Heir. 
But  when  Kaikeyi,  youngest  queen, 
With  eyes  of  envious  hate  had  seen 
ThM  solemn  pomp  and  regal  state 
Prepared  the  prince  to  consecrate, 
She  bade  the  hapless  king  bestow 
Two  gifts  he  promised  long  ago, 
That  Kama  to  the  woods  should  flee, 
And  that  her  child  the  heir  should  be. 

By  chains  of  duty  firmly  tied, 
The  wretched  king  perforce  complied. 

Aryan,  Indo-European,  not  Semitic  :  our 

spiritual  kith  and  kin  are  to  be  found  in 

India,  Persia,  Greece,  Italy,  Germany;  not 

in  Mesopotamia,  Egypt,  or  Palestine.' 

Chips  from  a  German  Workshop. 

Vol.  I.  pp.  8,  4. 

1  As    with    the    ancient    Persians    and 
Scythians,   Indian  princes  were  carefully 
instructed   in   archery    which   stands   for 
military    science   in    general,    of    which, 
among  Hindu  heroes,  it  was  the  most  im- 
portant branch, 

2  Chief  of  the  three  queensof  Dasaratha 
and  mother  of  Rama. 

3  From   him  a  snow,    (Greek   Y£t/J-CUV 
Latin  hiems)  and  dlaya  abode;  the  Man- 
sion of  JSnow. 

4  The  moon  (Soma.lndu,  Chandra  eta.) 
is  masculine  with  the  Indians  as  with  the 
Germans. 

5  Kuvera,  the  Indian  Plutus,  or  God  of 
Wealth. 

6  The  events  here  briefly  mentioned  will 
be  related  fully  in  the  course  of  the  poem. 
The  first  four  cantos  are  introductory,  and 
are  evidently  the  work  of  a  later  hand 
thaii  Valiniki's. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I 


Kama,  to  please  Kaikefi  went 

Obedient  forth  to  banishment. 

Then  Lakshman's  truth  was  nobly  shown, 

Then  were  his  love  and  courage  known, 

When  for  his  brother's  sake  he  dared 

All  perils,  and  his  exile  shared. 

And  Sita,  Kama's  darling  wife, 

Loved  even  as  he  loved  his  life, 

Whom  happy  marks  combined  to  bless, 

A  miracle  of  loveliness, 

Of  Janak's  royal  lineage  sprung, 

Most  excellent  of  women,  clung 

To  her  dear  lord,  like  Rohini 

Kejoicing  with  the  Moon  to  be.1 

The  King  and  people,  sad  of  mood, 

The  hero's  car  awhile  pursued. 

But  when  Prince  Rama  lighted  down 

At  Sringavera'a  pleasant  town, 

Where  Ganga's  holy  waters  flow, 

He  bade  his  driver  turn  and  go. 

Guha,  Nishadas'  king,  he  met, 

And  on  the  farther  bank  was  set. 

Then  on  from  wood  to  wood  they  strayed, 

O'er  many  a  stream,through  constant  shade, 

As  Bharadvtija  bade  them,   till 

They  came  to  Chitrakuta's  hill. 

And  Rama  there,  with  Lakshman's  aid, 

A  pleasant  little  cottage  made, 

And  spent  his  days  with  {Sita,  dressed 


1  'Chandra,  or  the  Moon,  is  fabled  to  have 
been  married  to  the  twenty-seven  daughters 
of  the  patriarch  Daksha,  or  Asvini  and  the 
rest,  who  are  in  fact  personifications  of  the 
Lunar  Asterisms.  His  favourite  amongst 
them  was  Rohini  to  whom  he  so  wholly 
devoted  himself  as  to  neglect  the  rest.  They 
complained  to  their  father,  and  Daksha 
repeatedly  interposed,  till,  tinding  his 
remonstrances  vain,  he  denounced  a  curse 
upon  his  son-in-law,  in  consequence  of 
which  he  remained  childless  and  became 
affected  by  consumption.  The  wives  of 
Chandra  having  interceded  in  his  behalf 
with  their  father,  Daksha  modified  an 
imprecation  which  he  could  not  recall, 
and  pronounced  that  the  decay  should  be 
periodical  only,  not  permanent,  and  that 
it  should  alternate  with  periods  of  recovery. 
Hence  the  successive  wane  and  increase 
of  the  Moon.  Padma  Purdna,  temarga- 
lihanda,)  Sec.  II.  Rohini  in  Astronomy  is 
the  fourth  lunar  mansion,  containing  live 
Starr?,  the  principal  of  which  is  Aldebaran.' 
WILSON,  Specimens  of  the  Hindu 
Theatre.  Vol.  I.  p.  234. 

The  Bengal  recension  has   a  different 
reading  : 

*  Shone  with  her  husband  like  the  light 
Attendant  ou  the  Lord  of  .Night.' 


In  coat  of  bark  and  deerskin  vest.1 
And  Chitrakuta  grew  to  be 
As  bright  with  those  illustrious  three 
As  Meru's*  sacred  peaks  that  shine 
With  glory,  when  the  Gods  recline 
Beneath  them  :    Diva's3  self  between 
The  Lord  of  Gold  and  Beauty's  Queen. 

The  aged  king  for  Rama  pined, 
And  for  the  skies  the  earth  resigned. 
Bharat,  his  son,  refused  to  reign, 
Though  urged  by  all  the  twice-born4  train. 
Forth  to  the  woods  he  fared  to  meet 
His  brother,  fell  before  his  feet, 
And  cried, '  Thy  clain  all  men  allow  : 
O  come,  our  lord  and  king  be  thou.' 
But  Kama  nobly  chose  to  be 
Observant  of  his  sire's  decree. 
He  placed  his  sandals5  in  his  hand 
A  pledge  that  he  would  rule  the  land  : 
And  bade  his  brother  turn  again. 
Then  Bharat,  finding  prayer  was  vain, 
The  sandals  took  and  went  away  ; 
Nor  in  Ayodhya  would  he  stay. 
But  turned  to  Nandigrama.  where 
He  ruled  the  realm  with  watchful  care, 
Still  longing  eagerly  to  learn 
Tidings  of  Rama's  safe  return. 

Then  lest  the  people  should  repeat 
Their  visit  to  his  calm  retreat, 
Away  from  Chitrakuta's  hill 
Fared  Rama  ever  onward  till 

'The  garb  prescribed  for  ascetics  by  Manu. 

2  'Mount  Meru,  situated  like  Kailasa  in 
the  lofty  regions    to   the    north    of  the 
Himalayas,  is  celebrated  in  the  traditions 
and  myths  of  India.     Meru   and   Kailasa 
are  the  two  Indian  Olympi.     Perhaps  they 
were  held  in  such  veneration  because  the 
Sanskrit-speaking  Indians  remembered  the 
ancient  home  where  they  dwelt  with  the 
other  primitive  peoples  of   their  family 
before  they  descended  to   occupy  the  vast 
plains  which  extend  between  the  Indus  and 
the  Ganges. '    GORRESIO. 

3  The  third  God  of  the  Indian  Triad,  the 
God  of  destruction  and  reproduction.    See 
Additional  i\otes. 

4  The  epithet  dwija,  or  twice-born,  is 
usually  appropriate  to   B rah  mans,  but  is 
applicable    to    the    three    higher    castes. 
Investiture  with  the   sacred   thread   and 
initiation  of  the  neophyte    into    certain 
religious  mysteries  are    regarded  as  his 
regeneration  or  second  birth. 

6  His  shoes  to  be  a  memorial  of  the  absent 
heir  and  to  maintain  his  right.  Kalidasa 
(liaghuvansa,  XII.  17.)  says  that  they  were 
to  be  adhidevate  or  guardian  deitiea  of 
the  kingdom. 


Canto  I. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Beneath  the  shady  trees  he  stood 
Of  Dandaka's  primeval  wood, 
Viradha,  giant  fiend,  he  slew, 
And  then  Agastya's  friendship  knew. 
Counselled  by  him  he  gained  the  sword 
And  bow  of   Indra,  heavenly  lord  : 
A  pair  of  quivers  too,  that  bore 
Of  arrows  an  exhaustless  store. 
While  there  he  dwelt  in  greenwood  shade 
The  trembling  hermits  sought  his  aid, 
And  bade  him  with  his  sword  and  bow 
Destroy  the  tiends  who  worked  them  woe: 
To  come  like  Indra  strong  and  brave, 
A  guardian  God  to  help  and  save. 
And  Kama's  falchion  left  its  trace 
Deep  cut  on  ^urpanakha's  face  : 
A  hideous  giantess  who  came 
Burning  for  him  with  lawless  flame. 
Their  sister's  cries  the  giants  heard. 
And  vengeance  in  each  bosom  stirred  : 
The  monster  of  the  triple  head. 
And  Dushan  to  the  contest  sped. 
But  they  and  myriad  fiends  beside 
Beneath  the  might  of  Kama  died. 

When  Ravan.  dreaded  warrior,  knew 
The  slaughter  of  his  giant  crew  : 
Ravan,  the  kin°f,  whose  name  of  fear 
Earth,  hell,  and  heaven  all  shook  to  hear: 
He  bade  the  fiend  Maricha  aid 
The  vengeful  plot  his  fury  laid. 
In  vain  the  wise  Maricha  tried 
To  turn  him  from  his  course  aside  : 
Not  Ravan's  self,  he  said,  might  hope 
With  Kama  and  his  strength  to  cope. 
Impelled  by  fate  and  blind  with  rage 
He  came  to  Kama's  hermitage. 
There,  by  Marie  ha' s  magic  art, 
He  wiled  the  princely  youths  apart, 
The  vulture1    slew,  and  bore  away 
The  wife  of  Rama  as  his  prey. 
The  son  of  Raghu*  came  and  found 
Jatayu  slain  upon  the  ground. 
He  rushed  within  his  leafy  cot  ; 
He  sought  his  wife,  but  found  her  not. 
Then,  then  the  hero's  senses  failed  ; 
In  mad  despair  he  wept  and  wailed. 
Upon  the  pile  that  bird  he  laid, 
And  still  in  quest  of  Sita  strayed, 
A  hideous  giant  then  he  saw, 
Kabandha  named,  a  shape  of  awe. 


1  Jatayu,  a  semi -divine  bird,  the  friend 
of  Kama,  who  fought  in  defence  of  Sita. 

*  Raglm  was  one  of  the  most  celebrated 
ancestors  of  Rama  whose  commonest 
appellation  is,  therefore,  Kaghava  or 
descendant  of  Raghu.  Kalidasa  in  the 
Raghuvahsa  makes  him  the  son  of  Dilipa 
and  great-grandfather  of  Kama.  See 
Idylh  from  the  8an*kritt  *  Aja'  and 
4  inlipu,' 


The  monstrous  fiend  he  smote  and  slew, 

And  in  the  flame  the  body  threw  ; 

When  straight  from  out  the  funeral  flame 

In  lovely  form  Kabandha  came, 

And  bade  him  seek  in  his  distress 

A  wise  and  holy  hermitess. 

By  counsel  of  this  saintly  dame 

To  Tampa's  pleasant  flood  he  came, 

And  there  the  steadfast  friendship  won 

Of  Hanuman  the  Wind-God's  son. 

Counselled  by  him  he  told  his  grief 

To  great  Sugriva,  Vanar  chief, 

Who,  knowing  all  the  tale,  before 

The  sacred  flame  alliance  swore. 

Sugriva  to  his  new-found  friend 

Told  his  own  story  to  the  end  : 

His  hate  of  Bali  for  the  wrong 

And  insult  he  had  borne  so  long. 

And  Rama  lent  a  willing  ear 

And  promised  to  allay  his  fear. 

Sugriva  warned  him  of  the  might 

Of   Bali,  matchless  in  the  fight, 

And,  credence  for  his  tale  to  gain, 

Showed  the  huge  fiend1  by  Bali  slain. 

The  prostrate  corse  of  mountain  size 

Seemed  nothing  in  the  hero's  eyes  ; 

He  lightlv  kicked  it,  as  it  lay, 

And  cast  it  twenty  leagues2  away. 

To  prove  his  might  his  arrows  through 

Seven  palms  in  line,  uninjured,  flew. 

He  cleft  a  mighty  hill  apart, 

And  down  to  hell  he  hurled  his  dart. 

Then  high  Sugrjva's  spirit  rose, 

Assured  of  conquest  o'er  his  foes. 

With  his  new  champion  by  his  side 

To  vast  Kishkindha's  cave  he  hied. 

Then,  summoned  by  his  awful  shout, 

King  Bali  came  in  fury  out, 

First  comforted  his  trembling  wife, 

Then  sought  Sugriva  in  the  strife. 

One  shaft  from  Rama's  deadly  bow 

The  monarch  in  the  dust  laid  low. 

Then  Kama  bade  Sugriva  reign 

In  place  of  royal  Bali  slain. 

Then  speedy  envoys  hurried  forth 

Eastward  and  westward,  south  and  north, 

Commanded  by  the  grateful  king 

Tidings  of  Rama's  spouse  to  bring. 

Then  by  Sarnpati's  counsel  led, 
Brave  Hanuman,  who  mocked  at  dread, 
Sprang  at  one  wild  tremendous  leap 
Two  hundred  leagues  across  the  deep, 
To  Lanka's3  town  he  urged  his  way, 
Where  Ravan  held  his  royal  sway. 


1  Dundhubi. 

2  Literally  ten  yojanas.    The  yojana  is 
a  measure  of  uncertain  length   variously 
reckoned  as  equal  to  nine  miles,  five,  and 
a  little  less. 

3  Ceylon. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool  I. 


There  pensive  'neath  Asoka1  boughs 

He  found  poor  Sita,  Kama's  spouse. 

He  gave  the  hapless  girl  a  ring, 

A  token  from,  her  lord  and  king, 

A  pledge  from  her  fair  hand  he  bore  ; 

Then  battered  down  the  garden  door. 

Five  captains  of  the  host  he  slew, 

Seven  sons  of  councillors  o'erthrew  ; 

Crushed  youthful  Aksha  on  the  field, 

Then  to  his  captors  chose  to  yield. 

Soon  from  their  bonds  his  limbs  were  free, 

But  honouring  the  high  decree 

"Which  Brahma2  had  pronounced  of  yore, 

He  calmly  all  their  insults  bore, 

The  town  he  burnt  with  hostile  flame, 

And  spoke  again  with  Kama's  dame, 

Then  swiftly  back  to  Kama  flew 

With  tidings  of  the  interview. 

Then  with  Sugriva  for  his  guide, 
Came  Kama  to  the  ocean  side. 
He  smote  tiie  sea  with  shafts  as  bright 
As  sunbeams  in  their  summer  height, 
And  quick  appeared  the  Rivers'  King3 
Obedient  to  the  summoning. 
A  bridge  was  thrown  by  Nala  o'er 
The  narrow  sea  from  shore  to  shore.4 
They  crossed  to  Lanka's  golden  town, 
Where  Kama's  hand  smote  Kavan  down. 
Vibhishan  there  was  left  to  reign 
Over  his  brother's  wide  domain. 
To  meet  her  husband  Sita  came  ; 
But  Kama,  stung  with  ire  and  shame, 
With  bitter  words  his  wife  addressed 
Before  the  crowd  that  round  her  pressed. 
But  Sita,  touched  with  noble  ire, 
Gave  her  fair  body  to  the  tire. 
Then  straight  the  God  of  Wind  appeared, 
And  words  from  heaven  her  honour  cleared. 
And  Rama  clasped  his  wife  again, 
Uninjured,  pure  from  spot  and  stain, 
Obedient  to  the  Lord  of  Fire 
And  the  high  mandate  of  his  sire. 
Led  by  the  Lord  who  rules  the  sky, 
The  Gods  arid  heavenly  saints  drew  nigh, 
And  honoured  him  with  worthy  meed, 
Rejoicing  in  each  glorious  deed. 
His  task  achieved,  his  foe  removed, 


1  The  Jonesia  Asoka  is  a  most  beautiful 
tree  bearing  a  profusion  of  red  blossoms. 

58  Brahma,  the  Creator,    is  usually  re- 
garded as  tiie  first  Gool  of  the  Indian'  Tri- 
nity, although,  as  Kalidasa  says  : 
*  Of  Brahma,  Vishnu,  $iva,  each  may  be 
First,  second ,  third,  amid  the  blessed  Three. 

Brahma  had  guaranteed   Kavan's  lift 
against  all  enemies  except  man. 

3  Ocean  personified. 

4  The  rocks  lying  between  Ceylon  and 
the    mainland    are    still    called    Kama'i 
Bridge  by  the  Hindus, 


le  triumphed,  by  the  Gods  approved, 
ty  grace  of  Heaven  he  raised  to  life 
The  chieftains  slain  in  mortal  strife  ; 
Chen  in  tiie  magic  chariot  through 
The  clouds  to  Nandigrama  Mew. 
Met  by  his  faithful  brothers  there, 
lie  loosed  his  votive  coil  of  hair  : 
Thence  fair  Ayodhya's  town  he  gained, 
And  o'er  his  father's  kingdom  reigned. 
Disease  or  famine  ne'er  oppressed 
His  happy  people,  richly  blest 
With  all  the  joys  of  ample  wealth, 
Of  sweet  content  and  perfect  health. 
No  widow  mourned  her  well -loved  mate, 
No  sire  his  son's  untimely  fate. 
They  feared  not  storm  or  robber's  haud  : 
No  lire  or  flood  laid  waste  the  land  ; 
The  Golden  Age1  had  come  again 
To  bless  the  days  of  Kama's  reign. 

From  him,  the  great  and  glorious  king, 
Shall  many  a  princely  scion  spring. 
And  he  shall  rule,  beloved  by  men, 
Ten  thousand  years  and  hundreds  ten,2 
And  when  his  life  on  earth  is  past 
To  Brahma's  world  shall  go  at  last.' 

Whoe'er  this  noble  poem  reads 
That  tells  the  tale  of  Kama's  deeds, 
Good  as  the  Scriptures,  he  shall  be 
From  every  sin  and  blemish  free. 
Whoever  reads  the  saving  strain, 
With  all  his  kin  the  heavens  shall  gain. 
Brahmans  who  read  shall  gather  hence 
The  highest  praise  for  eloquence. 
The  warrior,  o'er  the  land  shall  reign, 
The  merchant,  luck  in  trade  obtain  ; 
And  ^udras  listening3  ne'er  shall  fail 
To  reap  advantage  from  the  tale.4 


1  'The  Brahmans,  with  H  system  rather 
cosmogonical  than  chronological,  divide 
the  present  mundane  period  into  four  ages 
or  yngas  as  they  call  them  :  the  Krita,  the 
Treta,  the  Dwapara,  and  the  Kali.  The 
Krita,  called  also  the  Deva-yuga  or  that 
of  the  Gods,  is  the  age  of  truth,  the  perfect 
age,  the  Treta  is  the  age  of  the  three 
sacred  fires,  domestic  and  sacrificial  ;  the 
Dwapara  is  the  age  of  doubt;  the  Kali, 
the  present  age,  is  the  age  of  evil.' 
GofiRESio. 

a  The  ancient  kings  of  India  enjoyed 
lives  of  more  than  patriarchal  length  as 
will  appear  in  the  course  of  the  poem. 

3  £udras,  men  of  the  fourth  and  lowest 
pure  caste,  were   not  allowed   to  read  the 
poem,  but  might  hear  it  recited. 

4  The  three    slokes  or  distichs    which 
these  twelve  lines  represent  are  evidently 
a  still  later  and  very  awkward  addition  to 
the  introduction. 


Canto  II. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


CANTO  II. 


BRAHMA'S  VISIT. 

Vafmiki,  graceful  speaker,  heard, 

To  highest  admiration  stirred. 

To  him  whose  fame  the  tale  rehearsed 

He  paid  his  mental  worship  first ; 

Then  with  his  pupil  humbly  bent 

Before  the  saint  most  eloquent. 

Thus  honoured  and  dismissed  the  seer 

Departed  to  his  heavenly  sphere. 

Then  from  his  cot  Valmiki  hied 

'To  TamasaV  sequestered  side. 

Not  far  remote  from  Ganga's  tide. 

He  stood  and  saw  the  ripples  roll 

Pellucid  o'er  a  pebbly  shoal. 

To  Bharadvaja*  by  his  side 

He  turned  in  ecstasy,  and  cried  : 

'See,  pupil  dear,  this  lovely  sight, 

The  smooth- floored  shallow,pure  and  bright 

With  not  a  speck  or  shade  to  mar, 

And  clear  as  good  men's  bosoms  are. 

Here  on  the  brink  thy  pitcher  lay, 

And  bring  my  zone  of  bark,  I  pray. 

Here  will  I  bathe  :  the  rill  has  not, 

To  lave  the  limbs,  a  fairer  spot. 

Do  quickly  as  I  bid,  nor  waste 

The  precious  time  ;  away,  and  haste,' 

Obedient  to  his  master's  hest 
Quick  from  the  cot  he  brought  the  vest ; 
The  hermit  took  it  from  his  hand, 
And  tightened  round  his  waist  the  band  ; 
Then  duly  dipped  and  bathed  him  there, 
And  muttered  low  his  secret  prayer. 
To  spirits  and  to  Gods  he  made 
Libation  of  the  stream,  and  strayed 
Viewing  the  forest  deep  and  wide 
That  spread  its  shade  on  every  side. 
Close  by  the  bank  he  saw  a  pair 
Of  curlews  sporting  fearless  there. 
Hut  suddenly  with  evil  mind 
An  outcast  fowler  stole  behind, 
And,  with  an  aim.  too  sure  and  true, 
The  male  bird  near  the  hermit  slew. 


1  There  are  several  rivers  in  India  of 
this  name,  now  corrupted  into  Tonse,  The 
river  here  spoken  of  is  that  which  falls 
into  the  Ganges  a  little  below  Allahabad. 

2 'In  Book  II,,  Canto  LIV.,  we  meet 
with  a  saint  of  this  name  presiding  over  a 
convent  of  disciples  in  his  hermitage  at 
the  confluence  of  the  Ganges  and  the 
Jumna.  Thence  the  later  author  of  these 
introductory  cantos  has  borrowed  the 
name  and  person,  inconsistently  indeed, 
but  with  the  intention  of  enhancing  the 
dignity  of  the  poet  by  ascribing  to  him 
so  celebrated  a  disciple.'  SCHLEGEL, 


The  wretched  hen  in  wild  despair 
With  fluttering  pinions  beat  the  air, 
And  shrieked  a  long  and  bitter  cry 
When  low  on  earth  she  saw  him  lie, 
Her  loved  companion,  quivering,  dead, 
His  dear  wings  with  his  lifeblood  red  ; 
And  for  her  golden  crested  mate 
She  mourned,  and  was  disconsolate. 

The  hermit  saw   the  slaughtered  bird, 
And  all  his  heart  with  ruth  was  stirred. 
The  fowler's  impious  deed  distressed 
His  gentle  sympathetic  breast, 
And  while  the  curlew's  sad  cries  rang 
Within  his  ears,  the  hermit  sang  : 

*  No  fame  be  thine  for  endless  time, 
Because,  base  outcast,  of  thy  crime, 
Whose  cruel  hand  was  fain  to  slay 
One  of  this  gentle  pair  at  play  ! ' 
E'en  as  he  spoke  his  bosom  wrought 
And  laboured  with  the  wondering  thought 
What  was  the  speech  his  ready  tongue 
Had  uttered  when  his  heart  was  wrung. 
He  pondered  long  upon  the  speech, 
Recalled  the  words  and  measured  each, 
And  thus  exclaimed  the  saintly  guide 

To  Bharadvaja  by  his  side: 

*  With  equal  lines  of  even  feet, 

With  rhythm  and  time  and  tone  complete, 
The  measured  form  of  words  I  spoke 
In  shock  of  grief  be  termed  a  sloke.'1 
And  Bharadvaja,  nothing  slow 
His  faithful  love  and  zeal  to  show, 
Answered  those  words  of  wisdom,  '  Be 
The  name,  my  lord,  as  pleases  thee.' 
As  rules  prescribe  the  hermit  took 
Some  lustral  water  from  the  brook. 
But  still  on  this  his  constant  thought 
Kept  brooding,  as  his  home  he  sought ; 
While  Bharadvaja  paced  behind, 
A  pupil  sage  of  lowly  mind, 
And  in  his  hand  a  pitcher  bore 
With  pure  fresh  water  brimming  o'er. 
Soon  as  they  reached  their  calm  retreat 
The  holy  hermit  took  his  seat ; 
!iis  mind  from  worldly  cares  recalled, 
And  mused  in  deepest  thought  enthralled. 
Then  glorious  Brahma,2  Lord  Most  High, 
Creator  of  the  earth  and  sky, 


1  The  poet  plays  upon  the  similarity  in 
sound  of  the  two  words :  soha,  means 
^rief,  sloka,  the  heroic  measure  in  which 
he  poem  is  composed.  It  need  scarcely 
je  said  that  the  derivation  is  fanciful. 

z  Brahma,  the  Creator,  is  usually  regarded 
as  the  first  person  of  the  divine  triad  of 
ndia.  The  four  heads  with  which  he  is 
epresented  are  supposed  to  have  allusion 
o  the  four  corners  of  the  earth  which  he 
s  sometimes  considered  to  personify.  As 
an  object  of  adoration  Brahma  has  been 


8 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  I. 


The  four-faced  God,  to  meet  the  sage 
Came  to  Valmiki's  hermitage. 
Soon  as  the  mighty  God  he  saw, 
Up  sprang  the  saint  in  wandering  awe. 
Mute,  with  clasped  hands,  Ins  head  he  bent, 
And  stood  before  him  reverent. 
His  honoured  guest  he  greeted  well, 
Who  bade  him  of  his  welfare  tell  ; 
Gave  water  for  his  blessed  feet, 
Brought  offerings,1  and  prepared  a  seat, 
In  honoured  place  the  God  Most  High 
Sate  down,  and  bade  the  saint  sit  nigh. 
There  sate  before  Valmiki's  eyes 
The  Father  of  the  earth  and  skies  ; 
But  still  the  hermit's  thoughts  were  bent 
On  one  thing  only,  all  intent 
On  that  poor  curlew's  mournful  fate 
Lamenting  for  her  slaughtered  mate  ; 
And  still  his  lips,  in  absent  mood, 
The  verse  that  told  his  grief,  renewed  : 
'  Woe  to  the  fowler's  impious  hand 
That  did  the  deed  that  folly  planned  ; 
That  could  to  needless  death  devote 
The  curlew  of  the  tuneful  throat  1  ' 

The  heavenly  Father  smiled  in  glee, 
And  saiil,  '0  best  of  hermits,  see, 
A  verse,  unconscious,  thou  hast  made  ; 
^No  longer  be  the  task  delayed. 
Seek  not  to  trace,  with  labour  vain, 
The  unpremeditated  strain. 
The  tuneful  lines  thy  lips  rehearsed 
Spontaneous  from  thy  bosom  burst. 
Then  come,  0  best  of  seers,  relate 
The  life  of  Rama  good  and  great, 
The  tale  that  saintly  Narad  told, 
In  all  its  glorious  length  unfold. 
Of  all  the  deeds  his  arm  ha?  done 
"Upon  this  earth,  omit  not  one, 
And  thus  the  noble  life  record 
Of  that  wise,  brave,  aiid  virtuous  lord. 


entirely  superseded  by  $iva  and  Vishnu. 
In  the  whole  of  India  there  is,  I  believe, 
but  one  temple  dedicated  to  his  worship. 
In  this  point  the  first  of  the  Indian  triad 
curiously  resembles  the  last  of  the  divine 
fraternity  of  Greece,  Aides  the  brother  of 
Zeus  and  Poseidon.  *  In  all  Greece,  says 
fausanias,  there  is  no  single  temple  of 
Aides,  except  at  a  single  spot  in  Elis.'  See 
Gladstone's  Juventus  Alundi,  p.  253. 

1  The  arglia  or  arghya  was  a  libation  or 
offering  to  a  deity,  a  Brahman,  or  other 
venerable  personage.  According  to  one 
authority  it  consisted  of  water,  milk,  the 
points  of  Kusa-grass,  curds,  clarified  butter, 
rice,  barley,  and  white  mustard  ;  according 
to  another,  of  saffron,  bel,  unbroken  grain, 
flowers,  curds,  durba-grass,  kusa-graas,  and 
sesamum, 


His  every  act  to  day  displayed, 
His  secret  life  to  none  betrayed  : 
How  Lakshinan,  how  the  giants  fought; 
With  high  emprise  and  hidden  thought  : 
And  all  that  Janak's  child1  befell 
Where  all  could  see,  where  none  could  tell, 
The  whole  of  this  shall  truly  be 
Made  known,  O  best  of  saints,  to  thee. 
In  all  thy  poem,  through  my  grace, 
No  word  of  falsehood  shall  have  place. 
Begin  the  story,  and  rehearse 
The  tale  divine  in  charming  verse. 
As  long  as  in  this  firm -set  land 
The  streams  shall  flow,the  mountains  stand, 
So  long  throughout  the  world,  be  sure, 
The  great  Ramayan  shall  endure.2 
While  the  Ramayan 's  ancient  strain 
Shall  glorious  in  the  earth  remain, 
To  higher  spheres  shalt  thou  arise 
And  dwell  with  me  above  the  skies.' 

He  spoke,  and  vanished  into  air, 
And  left  Valmiki  wondering  there. 
The  pupils  of  the  holy  man, 
Moved  by  their  love  of  him,  began 
To  chant  that  verse,  and  ever  more 
They  marvelled  as  they  sang  it  o'er  : 
*  Behold,  the  four-lined  balanced  rime, 
Repeated  over  many  a  time, 
In  words  that  from  the  hermit  broke 
In  shock  of  grief,  becomes  a  sloke.' 
This  measure  now  Valmiki  chose 
Wherein  his  story  to  compose. 
In  hundreds  of  such  verses,  sweet 
With  equal  lines  and  even  feet, 
The  saintly  poet,  lofty -souled, 
The  glorious  deeds  of  Rama  told. 

CANTO  III. 
THE  ARGUMENT. 

The  hermit  thus  with  watchful  heed 
Received  the  poem's  pregnant  seed, 
And  looked  with  eager  thought  around 
If  fuller  knowledge  might  be  found. 

1  8ita,  daughter  of  Janak  king  of  Mithila. 

*  *  I  congratulate  myself,'  says  Schlegel 
in  the  preface  to  his,  alas,  unfinished  edi- 
tion of  the  Ramayan,  '  that,  by  the  favour 
of  the  Supreme  Deity,  I  have  been  allowed ' 
to  begin  so  great  a  work  ;  I  glory  andi 
make  my  boast  that  I  too  after  so  many 
ages  have  helped  to  confirm  that  ancient 
oracle  declared  to  Valmiki  by  the  Father 
of  Gods  and  men  : 

Bum  stabunt  montes,  campis  dum  flumina 

current, 

Usque  tuum  toto  carmen  celebrabitur  orbe,' 


Canto  III. 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


His  lips  with  water  first  bedewed,1 

He  sate  in  reverent  attitude 

On  holy  grass,2  the  points  all  bent 

Together  toward  the  orient  ;3 

And  thus  in  meditation  he 

Entered  the  path  of  poesy. 

Then  clearly,  through  his  virtue's  might, 

All  lay  discovered  to  his  sight, 

Whatever  befell,  through  all  their  life, 

Rama,  his  brother,  and  his  wife  : 

And  Dasaratha  and  each  queen 

At  every  time,  in  every  scene  : 

His  people  too,  of  every  sort ; 

The  nobles  of  his  princely  court  : 

Whatever  was  said,  whate'er  decreed, 

Each  time  they  sate,  each  plan  and  deed  : 

For  holy  thought  and  fervent  rite 

Had  so  refined  his  keener  sight 

That  by  his  sanctity  his  view 

The  present,  past,  and  future  knew, 

And  he  with  mental  eye  could  grasp, 

Like  fruit  within  his  fingers'  clasp, 

The  life  of  Rama,  great  and  good, 

Roaming  with  Sita  in  the  wood. 

He  told,  with  secret-piercing  eyes, 

The  tale  of  Rama's  high  emprise. 

Each  listening  ear  that,  shall  entice, 

A  sea  of  pearls  of  highest  price. 

Thus  good  Valmiki,  sage  divine, 

Rehearsed  the  tale  of  Raghu's  line, 

As  Narad,  heavenly  saint,  before 

Had  traced  the  story's  outline  o'er. 

He  sang  of  Rama's  princely  birth, 

His  kindness  and  heroic  worth  ; 

His  love  for  all,  his  patient  youth, 

His  gentleness  and  constant  truth, 

And  many  a  tale  and  legend  old 

By  holy  Visvamitra  told. 

How  Janak's  child  he  wooed  and  won, 

And  broke  the  bow  that  bent  to  none. 

How  he  with  every  virtue  fraught 

His  namesake  Rain  a4  met  and  fought, 

The  choice  of  Rama  for  the  throne  ; 

The  malice  by  Kaikeyi  shown, 

Whose  evil  counsel  marred  the  plan 

And  drove  him  forth  a  banisht  man. 

How  the  king  grieved  and  groaned,andcried, 

1  'The  sipping  of  water  is  a  requisite 
introduction  of  all  rites  :  without  it,  says 
the  S&mba  Purana,  all  acts  of  religion 
are  vain.'  COLEBBOOKE. 

*  The  darbha  or  kusa,  (Poa  cynosure  ides), 
a  kind  of  grass  used  in  sacrifice  by  the 
Hindus  as  verbena  was  by  the  Romans, 

3  The     direction    in    which   the   grass 
should  be  placed  upon  the  ground  as  a 
seat  for  the  Gods,  on  occasion  of  offerings 
made  to  them. 

4  Parasurama  or  Raina   with  the  Axe, 
See  Canto  LXXIV, 


And  swooned  away  and  pining  died. 

The  subjects'  woe  when  thus  bereft ; 

And  how  the  following  crowds  he  left  I 

With  Guha  talked,  and  firmly  stern 

Ordered  his  driver  to  return. 

How  Ganga's  farther  shore  he  gained ; 

By  Bharadvaja  entertained, 

By  whose  advice  he  journeyed  still 

And  came  to  Chitrakuta's  hill. 

How  there  he  dwelt  and  built  a  cot ; 

How  Bharat  journeyed  to  the  spot ; 

His  earnest  supplication  made  ; 

Drink -offerings  to  their  father  paid  ; 

The  sandals  given  by  Rama's  hand, 

As  emblems  of  his  right,  to  stand  : 

How  from  his  presence  Bharat  went 

And  years  in  Nandigrama  spent. 

How  Rama  entered  Dandak  wood 

And  in  Sutikhna's  presence  stood. 

The  favour  Anasuya  showed, 

The  wondrous  balsam  she  bestowed. 

How  ^arabhanga's  dwelling-place 

They  sought;  saw  Indra  face  to  face ; 

The  meeting  with  Agastya  gained  ; 

The  heavenly  bow  from  him  obtained. 

How  Kama  with  Viradha  met ; 

Their  home  in  Panchavata  set. 

How  £urpanakha  underwent 

The  mockery  and  disfigurement. 

Of  Trigira's  and  Khara's  fall, 

Of  Ravaft  roused  at  vengeance'  call, 

Maricha  doomed,  without  escape  ; 

The  fair  Videhan1  lady's  rape. 

How  Raina  wept  and  raved  in  vain, 

And  how  the  Vulture- king  was  slain. 

How  Rama  fierce  Kabandha  slew  ; 

Then  to  the  side  of  Parnpa  drew, 

Met  Hanuman,  and  her  whose  vows 

Were  kept  beneath  the  greenwood  boughs. 

How  Raghu's  son,  the  lofty-souled, 

On  Pampa's  bank  wept  uncontrolled, 

Then  journeyed,  Rishyamuk  to  reach, 

And  of  Sugriva  then  had  speech. 

The  friendship  made,   which  both  had 

sought ; 

How  Bali  and  Sugriva  fought. 
How  Bali  in  the  strife  was  slain, 
And  how  Sugriva  came  to  reign. 
The  treaty,  Tara's  wild  lament ; 
The  rainy  nights  in  watching  spent. 
The  wrath  of  Raghu's  lion  son  ; 
The  gathering  of  the  hosts  in  one, 
The  sending  of  the  spies  about, 
And  all  the  regions  pointed  out. 
The  ring  by  Rama's  hand  bestowed  ; 
The  cave  wherein  the  bear  abode. 
The  fast  proposed,  their  lives  to  end  ; 
Sampati  gained  to  be  their  friend. 


1  Sita.  Videha  was  the  country  of  which 
Mithila  was  the  capital, 


10 


The  scaling  of  the  hill,  the  leap 

Of  Hanuman  across  the  deep. 

Ocean's  command  that  bade  them  seek 

Mainaka  of  the  lofty  peak. 

The  death  of  Sinhika,  the  sight 

Of  Lanka  with  her  palace  bright. 

How  Hanuman  stole  in  at  eve  ; 

His  plan  the  giants  to  deceive. 

How  through  the  square  he  made  his  way 

To  chambers  where  the  women  lay, 

Within  the  Asoka  garden  came 

And  there  found  Rama's  captive  dame. 

His  colloquy  with  her  he  sought, 

And  giving  of  the  ring  he  brought. 

How  Sita  gave  a  gem  o'er  joyed  ; 

How  Hanuman  the  grove  destroyed. 

How  giantesses  trembling  fled, 

And  servant  fiends  were  smitten  dead. 

How  Hanuman  was  seized  ;  their  ire 

When  Lanka  blazed  with  hostile  fire. 

His  leap  across  the  sea  once  more  ; 

The  eating  of  the  honey  store. 

How  Rama  he  consoled,  and  how 

He  showed  the  gem  from  Sita's  brow. 

With  Ocean,  Rama's  interview  ; 

The  bridge  that  Nala  o'er  it  threw. 

The  crossing,  and  the  sitting  down 

At  night  round  Lanka's  royal  town. 

The  treaty  with  Vibhishan  made  ; 

The  plan  for  Kavan's  slaughter  laid. 

How  Kumbhakarna  in  his  pride 

And  Meghanada  fought  and  died. 

How  Ravan  in  the  fight  was  slain, 

And  captive  Sita  brought  again. 

Vibhishan  set  upon  the  throne  ; 

The  flying  chariot  Pushpak  shown. 

How  Brahma  and  the  Gods  appeared, 

And  Sita's  doubted  honour  cleared. 

How  in  the  flying  car  they  rode 

To  Bharadvaja's  calm  abode. 

The  Wind- God's  son  sent  on  afar ; 

How  Bharat  met  the  flying  car. 

How  Rama  then  was  king  ordained  ; 

The  legions  their  discharge  obtained. 

How  Rama  cast  his  queen  away  ; 

How  grew  the  people's  love  each  day. 

Thus  did  the  saint  Valmiki  tell 

Whate'erin  Kama's  life  befell, 

And  in  the  closing  verses  all 

That  yet  to  come  will  once  befall. 


CANTO  IV. 


THE  RHAPSODISTS. 

When  to  the  end  the  tale  was  brought, 
Rose  in  the  sage's  mind  the  thought  ; 
'Now  who  throughout  this  earth  will  go, 
And  tell  it  forth  that  all  may  know  ? ' 


THE  RAM  A? AN.  Boo~k  I. 

As  thus  he  mused  with  anxious  breast, 
Behold,  in  hermit's  raiment  dressed, 
Kus&  and  Lava1  came  to  greet 
Their  master  and  embrace  his  feet. 
The  twins  he  saw,  that  princely  pair 
Sweet-voiced,  who  dwelt  beside  him  there. 
None  for  the  task  could  be  more  tit, 
For  skilled  were  they  in  Holy  Writ; 
And  so  the  great  Ramayan,  fraught 
With  lore  divine,  to  thes«  he  taught : 
The  lay  whose  verses  sweet  and  clear 
Take  with  delight  the  listening  ear, 
That  tell  of  Sita's  noble  life 
And  Ravan's  fall  in  battle  strife. 
Great  joy  to  all  who  hear  they  bring, 
Sweet  to  recite  and  sweet  to  sing. 
For  music's  sevenfold  notes  are  there, 
And  triple  measure,5*  wrought  with  care, 
With  melody  and  tone  and  time, 
And  flavours3  that  enhance  the  rime  : 
Heroic  might  has  ample  place, 
And  loathing  of  the  false  and  base, 
With  anger,  mirth,  and  terror,  blent 
With  tenderness,  surprise,  content. 
When,  half  the  hermit's  grace  to  gain, 
And  half  because  they  loved  the  strain, 
The  youths  within  their  hearts  had  stored 
The  poem  that  his  lips  outpoured, 
Valmiki  kissed  them  on  the  head, 
As  at  his  feet  they  bowed,  and  said  : 
'  Recite  ye  this  heroic  song 
In  tranquil  shades  where  sages  throng  : 
Recite  it  where  the  good  resort, 
In  lowly  home  and  royal  court.' 

The  hermit  ceased.    The  tuneful  pair, 
Like  heavenly  minstrels  sweet  and  fair, 
In  music's  art  divinely  skilled, 
Their  saintly  master's  word  fulfilled. 
Like  Rama's  self,  from  whom  they  came, 
They  showed  their  sire  in  face  and  frame, 

The  twin  sons  of  Rama  and  Sita, 
born  after  Rama  had  repudiated  Sita, 
and  brought  up  in  the  hermitage  of 
Valmiki,  As  they  were  the  first  rhapso- 
dists  the  combined  name  Kusilava  signi- 
fies a  reciter  of  poems,  or  an  improvisa- 
tore,  even  to  the  present  day. 

»  Perhaps  the  bass,  tenor,  and  treble, 
or  quick,  slow  and  middle  time.  We  know 
but  little  of  the  ancient  music  of  the 
Hindus. 

3  *  Eight  flavours  or  sentiments  are  usually 
enumerated,  love,  mirth,  tenderness,  anger, 
heroism,  terror,  disgust,  and  surprise: 
tranquillity  or  content,  or  paternal  tender- 
ness,  is  sometimes  considered  as  the  ninth.' 
WILSON.  See  the  Sahitya  Darpana  or 
Mirror  of  Composition,  translated  by 
Dr.  Ballantyne  and  Babi'i  Pramadadasa 
Mittra  in  the  Eibliotlwca  Indica. 


Canto  V. 


THE  MM  AY  AN. 


11 


As  though  from  some  fair  sculptured  stone 

Two  selfsame  images  had  grown. 

.Sometimes  the  pair  rose  up  to  sing, 

Surrounded  by  a  holy  ring, 

Where  seated  on  the  grass  had  met 

Full  many  a  musing  anchoret. 

Then  tears  bedimmed  those  gentle  eyes, 

As  transport  took  them  arid  surprise, 

And  as  they  listened  every  one 

Cried  in  delight,  Well  done  !  Well  done  I 

Those  sages  versed  in  holy  lore 

Praised  the  sweet  minstrels  more  and  more: 

And  wondered  at  the  singers'  skill, 

And  the  bard's  verses  sweeter  still, 

Which  laid  so  clear  before  the  eye 

The  glorious  deeds  of  days  gone  by. 

Thus  by  the  virtuous  hermits  praised, 

Inspirited  their  voice  they  raised. 

Pleased  with  the  song  this  holy  man 

Would  give  the  youths  a  water-can  ; 

One  gave  a  fair  ascetic  dress, 

Or  sweet  fruit  from  the  wilderness. 

One  saint  a  black-deer's  hide  would  bring, 

And  one  a  sacrificial  string  : 

One,  a  clay  pitcher  from  his  hoard, 

And  one,  a  twisted  munja  cord.1 

One  in  his  joy  an  axe  would  find, 

One.  braid,  their  plaited  locks  to  bind. 

One  gave  a  sacrificial  cup, 

One  rope  to  tie  their  fagots  up  ; 

While  fuel  at  their  feet  was  laid, 

Or  hermit's  stool  of  fig-tree  made. 

All  gave,  or  if  they  gave  not,  none 

Forgot  at  least  a  benison. 

8ome  saints,  delighted  with  their  lays, 

Would  promise  health  and  length  of  days  ; 

Others  with  surest  words  would  add 

Some  boon  to  make  their  spirit  glad, 

In  such  degree  of  honour  then 

That  song  was  held  by  holy  men  : 

That  living  song  which  life  can  give, 

By  which  shall  many  a  minstrel  live. 

In  seat  of  kings,  in  crowded  hall, 

They  sang  the  poem,  praised  of  all. 

And  .Rama  chanced  to  hear  their  lay, 

While  he  the  votive  steed2  would  slay, 

And  sent  fit  messengers  to  bring 

The  minstrel  pair  before  the  king. 

They  came,  and  found  the  monarch  high 

Enthroned  in  gold,  his  brothers  nigh  ; 

While  many  a  minister  below, 

And  noble,  sate  in  lengthened  row. 

1  Saccharum  Munja  is  a  plant  from  whose 
fibres  is  twisted  the  sacred  string  which  a 
Brahman  wears  over  one  shoulder  after  he 
has  been  initiated  by  a  rite  which  in  some 
respects  answers  to  confirmation. 

54  A  description  of  an  Asvamedha  or 
Horse  Sacrifice  is  given  in  Canto  XIII.  of 
this  Book, 


The  youthful  pair  awhile  he  viewed 
Graceful  in  modest  attitude, 
And  then  in  words  like  these  addressed 
His  brother  Lakshmap  and  the  rest : 
'Come,  listen  to  the  wondrous  strain 
Recited  by  these  godlike  twain, 
Sweet  singers  of  a  story  fraught 
With  melody  and  lofty  thought.' 

The  pair,  with  voices  sweet  and  strong, 
Rolled  the  full  tide  of  noble  song, 
With  tone  and  accent  deftly  blent 
To  suit  the  changing  argument. 
Mid  that  assembly  loud  and  clear 
Rang  forth  that  lay  so  sweet  to  hear, 
That  universal  rapture  stole 
Through  each   man's   frame  and    heart 

and  soul. 

*  These  minstrels,  blest  with  every  sign 
That  marks  a  high  and  princely  line, 

In  holy  shades  who  dwell, 
Enshrined  in  Saint  Valmiki's  lay, 
A  monument  to  live  for  aye, 

My  deeds  in  song  shall  tell.' 
Thus  Rama  spoke:  their  breasts  were  fired, 
And  the  great  tale,  as  if  inspired, 

The  youths  began  to  sing, 
While  every  heart  with  transport  swelled, 
And  mute  and  rapt  attention  held 

The  concourse  and  the  king, 


CANTO  V. 


AYODHYA. 

*  Ikshvaku's  sons  from  days  of  old 
Were  ever  brave  and  mighty-souled. 
The  land  their  arms  had  made  their  own 
Was  bounded  by  the  sea  alone. 
Their  holy  works  have  won  them  praise, 
Through  countless  years,   from    Manu's 

days. 

Their  ancient  sire  was  Sagar,  he 
Whose  high  command  dug  out  the  sea :! 
With  sixty  thousand  sons  to  throng 
Around  him  as  he  marched  along. 
From  them  this  glorious  tale  proceeds  : 
The  great  Ramayan  tells  their  deeds. 
This  noble  song  whose  lines  contain 
Lessons  of  duty,  love,  and  gain, 
We  two  will  now  at  length  recite, 
While  good  men  listen  with  delight. 

On  Sarju's2  bank,  of  ample  size, 
The  happy  realm  of  Kosal  lies, 


1  This  exploit  is  related  in  Canto  XL. 

2  The  Sarju  or  Ghaghra,  anciently  cal- 
led Sarayu,  rises  in  the  Himalayas,  and 
after    flowing  through   the  province   of 
Oudh,  falls  into  the  Ganges. 


12 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  I. 


With  fertile  length  of  fair  champaign 
And  flocks  and  herds  and  wealth  of  grain. 
There,  famous  in  her  old  renown, 
Ayodhya1  stands,  the  royal  town, 
In  bygone  ages  built  and  planned 
By  sainted  Mann's2  princely  hand. 
Imperial  seat !  her  walls  extend 
Twelve  measured  leagues  from  end  to  end, 
And  three  in  width  from  side  to  side, 
With  square  and  palace  beautified. 
Her  gates  at  even  distance  stand  ; 
Her  ample  roads  are  wisely  planned. 
Kight  glorious  is  her  royal  street 
Where  streams  allay  the  dust  and  heat. 
On  level  ground  in  even  row 
Her  houses  rise  in  goodly  show  : 
Terrace  and  palace,  arch  and  gate 
The  queenly  city  decorate. 
High  are  her  ramparts,  strong  and  vast, 
By  ways  at  even  distance  passed, 
With  circling  moat,  both  deep  and  wide, 
And  store  of  weapons  fortified. 

King  Dasaratha,  lofty-souled, 
That  city  guarded  and  controlled, 
With  towering  JSal  trees  belted  round,3 
And  many  a  grove  and  pleasure  ground, 
As  royal  Indra,  throned  on  high, 
Eules  his  fair  city  in  the  sky,* 
She  seems  a  painted  city,  fair 
With  chess-board  line  and  even  square.5 
And  cool  boughs  shade  the  lovely  lake 


1  The  ruins  of  the  ancient  capital  of 
Bama  and  the  Children  of  the  Sun  may 
still  be  traced  in  the  present  Ajudhya  near 
Fyzabad.    Ajudhya 'is  the  Jerusalem  or 
Mecca  of  the  Hindus. 

2  A   legislator    and  saint,   the   son  of 
Brahma  or  a  personification  of  Brahma 
himself,  the  creator  of  the  world,   and 
progenitor    of    mankind.     Derived    from 
the  root  man  to  think,  the  word  means 
originally  man,  the  thinker,  and  is  found 
in  this  sense  in  the  Rig-yeda. 

Manu  as  a  legislator  is  identified  with 
the  Cretan  Minos,  as  progenitor  of  man- 
kind with  the  German  Mannus  :  *  Cele- 
brant carminibus  antiquis,  quod  unum 
apud  illos  memoriye  et  annalium  genus 
est,  Tuisconem  deum  terra  editum,  et 
filium  Mannum,  originem  gentis  condi- 
toresque.'  TACITUS,  Germania,  Cap.  II. 

3  The  Sal  (Shorea  E-obusta)  is  a  valu- 
able timber  tree  of  considerable  height. 

4  The  city  of  Indra  is  called  Amaravati 
or  Home  of  the  Immortals. 

3  Schlegel  thinks  that  this  refers  to  the 
marble  of  different  colours  with  which 
the  houses  were  adorned.  It  seems  more 
natural  to  understand  it  as  implying  the 
regularity  of  the  streets  and  houses. 


Where  weary  men  their  thirst  may  slake. 
There  gilded  chariots  gleam  and  shine, 
And  stately  piles  the  Gods  enshrine. 
There  gay  sleek  people  ever  throng 
To  festival  and  dance  and  song. 
A  mine  is  she  of  gems  and  sheen, 
The  darling  home  of  Fortune's  Queen. 
With  noblest  sort  of  drink  and  meat, 
The  fairest  rice  and  golden  wheat, 
And  fragrant  with  the  chaplet's  scent 
With  holy  oil  and  incense  blent. 
With  many  an  elephant  and  steed, 
And  wains  for  draught  and  cars  for  speed, 
With  envoys  sent  by  distant  kings, 
And  merchants  with  their  precious  thinga 
With  banners  o'er  her  roofs  that  play, 
And  weapons  that  a  hundred  slay  ;! 
All  warlike  engines  framed  by  man, 
And  every  class  of  artisan. 
A  city  rich  beyond  compare 
With  bards  and  minstrels  gathered  there, 
And  men  and  damsels  who  entrance 
The  soul  with  play  and  song  and  dance. 
In  every  street  is  heard  the  lute, 
The  drum,  the  tabret,  and  the  flute, 
The  Veda  chanted  soft  and  low, 
The  ringing  of  the  archer's  bow  ; 
With  bands  of  godlike  heroes  skilled 
In  every  warlike  weapon,  filled, 
And  kept  by  warriors  from  the  foe, 
As  Nagas  guard  their  home  below. a 
There  wisest  Brahmans  evermore 

The  flame  of  worship  feed, 
And  versed  in  all  the  Vedas'  lore, 

Their  lives  of  virtue  lead. 
Truthful  and  pure,  they  freely  give  ; 

They  keep  each  sense  controlled, 
And  in  their  holy  fervour  live 

Like  the  great  saints  of  old. 

CANTO  VI. 


THE  KING. 

There  reigned  a  king  of  name  revered, 
To  country  and  to  town  endeared, 
Great  Dasaratha,  good  and  sage. 
Well  read  in  Scripture's  holy  page  : 


1  The  Sataglmi  i.  e.  centicide,  or  slayer 
of  a  hundred,  is  generally  supposed  to  be 
a  sort  of  fire-arms,  or  the  ancient  Indian 
rocket ;  but  it  is  also  described  as  a  stone 
set  round  with  iron  spikes. 

2  The  Nagas  (serpents)  are  demigods 
with  a  human  face   and  serpent   body, 
They  inhabit  Patala  or  the  regions  under 
the    earth.     Bhogavati    is    the   name  of 
their  capital  city.    Serpents  are  still  wor- 
shipped in  India.    See  Fergusson's  Tree 
and  Serpent  Worship. 


Cento  VI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


13 


Upon  his  kingdom's  weal  intent, 
Mighty  and  brave  and  provident ; 
The  pride  of  old  Ikshvaku's  seed 
For  lofty  thought  and  righteous  deed. 
Peer  01  the  saints,  for  virtues  famed, 
For  foes  subdued  arid  passions  tamed  ; 
A  rival  in  his  wealth  untold 
Of  Indra  and  the  Lord  of  Gold. 
Like  Marm  first  of  kings,  he  reigned. 
And  worthily  his  state  maintained. 
For  firm  and  just  and  ever  true 
Love,  duty,  gain  he  kept  in  view, 
And  ruled  his  city  rich  and  free, 
Like  Indra's  Amaravati. 
And  worthy  of  so  fair  a  place 
There  dwelt  a  just  and  happy  race 

With  troops  of  children  blest. 
Each  man  contented  sought  no  more, 
Nor  longed  with  envy  for  the  store 

By  richer  friends  possessed. 
For  poverty  was  there  unknown, 
And  each  man  counted  as  his  own 

Kine,  steeds,  and  gold,  and  grain. 
All  dressed  in  raiment  bright  and  clean, 
And  every  townsman  might  be  seen 

With  earrings,  wreath,  or  chain. 
None  deigned  to  feed  on  broken  fare, 
And  none  was  false  or  stingy  there. 
A  piece  of  gold,  the  smallest  pay, 
Was  earned  by  labour  for  a  day. 
On  every  arm  were  bracelets  worn, 
And  none  was  faithless  or  forsworn, 

A  braggart  or  unkind. 
None  lived  upon  another's  wealth, 
None  pined  with  dread  or  broken  health, 

Or  dark  disease  of  mind. 
High -so  uled  were  all.  The  slanderous  word, 
The  boastful  lie,  were  never  heard. 
Each  man  was  constant  to  his  vows, 
And  lived  devoted  to  his  spouse. 
No  other  love  his  fancy  knew, 
And  she  was  tender,  kind,  and  true. 
Her  dames  were  fair  of  form  and  face, 
With  charm  of  wit  and  gentle  grace, 
With  modest  raiment  simply  neat, 
And  winning  manners  soft  and  sweet. 
The  twice-born  sages,  whose  delight 
Was  Scripture's  page  and  holy  rite, 
Their  calm  and  settled  course  pursued, 
Nor  sought  the  menial  multitude. 
In  many  a  Scripture  each  was  versed, 
And  each  the  flame  of  worship  nursed, 

And  gave  with  lavish  hand. 
Each  paid  to  Heaven  the  offerings  due, 
And  none  was  godless  or  untrue 

In  all  that  holy  band. 
To  Brahmans,  as  the  laws  ordain, 
The  Warrior  caste  were  ever  fain 

The  reverence  due  to  pay  ; 
And  these  the  Vaisyas'  peaceful  crowd, 
Who  trade  and  toil  for  gain,  were  proud 


To  honour  and  obey  : 
And  all  were  by  the  ^udras1  served, 
Who  never  from  their  duty  swerved, 
Their  proper  worship  all  addressed 
To  Brahman,  spirits,  God,  and  guest. 
Pure  and  unrnixt  their  rites  remained, 
Their  race's  honour  ne'er  was  stained.2 
Cheered  by  his  grandsons,  sons,  and  wife, 
Each  passed  a  1  ong  and  happy  life. 
Thus  was  that  famous  city  held 
By  one  who  all  his  race  excelled, 

Blest  in  his  gentle  reign, 
As  the  whole  land  aforetime  swayed 
By  Manu,  prince  of  men,  obeyed 

Her  king  from  main  to  main. 
And  heroes  kept  her,  strong  and  brave, 
As  lions  guard  their  mountain  cave  : 
Fierce  as  devouring  flame  they  burned, 
Arid  fought  till  death,  but  never  turned, 
Horses  had  she  of  noblest  breed, 
Like  Indra's  for  their  form  and  speed, 
From  Vahli's3  hills  and  Sindhu's*  sand, 
Vanayu5  and  Kamboja's  land.6 


1  The  fourth  and  lowest    pure  caste» 
whose  duty  was  to  serve  the  three  first 
classes. 

2  By  forbidden  marriages  between  per- 
sons of  different  castes, 

3  Vahli  or   Vahlika  is    Bactriana  ;    its 
name  is  preserved  in  the  modern  Balkh. 

4  The   Sanskrit   word    Sindhu  is  in  the 
singular  the  name  of  the  river  Indus,   in 
the  plural  of  the  people  and  territories  on 
its  banks.    The  name  appears  as  Hidhu 
in  the  cuneiform  inscription  of  Darius  son 
of   Hystaspes,  in   which  the  nations  tri- 
butary to  that  king  are  enumerated. 

The  Hebrew  form  is  Hodda  (Esther,  1. 1.) 
In  Zend  it  appears  as  Hencln  in  a  some- 
what wider  sense.  With  the  Persians  later 
the  signification  of  Hind  seems  to  have 
co-extended  with  their  increasing  acquain- 
tance with  the  country.  The  weak  Ionic 
dialect  omitted  the  Persian  h,  and  we 
find  in  Hecateeus  and  Herodotus  "I ySoc 
and  i]  'IvSudf.  In  this  form  the  Romans 
received  the  names  and  transmitted  them 
to  us.  The  Arabian  geographers  in  their 
ignorance  that  Hind  and  Sind  are  two 
forms  of  the  same  word  have  made  of  them 
two  brothers  and  traced  their  descent 
from  Noah.  See  Lassen's  Indische  Alter  - 
thumskunde  Vol.  I.  pp.  2,  3. 

&  The  situation  of  Vanayu  is  not  exact- 
ly determined :  it  seems  to  have  lain  to  the 
north-west  of  India. 

6  Kara  bo  j  a  was  probably  still  further 
to  the  north- west,  Lasseii  thinks  that  the 


u 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool  I 


Her  noble  elephants  had  strayed 
Through  Vindhyan  and  Himalayan  shade, 
Gigantic  in  their  bulk  and  height, 
Yet  gentle  in  their  matchless  might. 
They  rivalled  well  the  world-spread  fame 
Of  tiie  great  stock  from  which  they  came, 

Of  Vaman,  vast  of  size, 
Of  Mahapadma's  glorious  line, 
Thine,  Anjan,  and,  Airavat,  thine,1 

Upholders  of  the  slues. 
With  those,  enrolled  in  fourfold  class, 
Who  all  their  mighty  kin  surpass, 

Whom  men  Matangas  name, 
And  Mrigas  spotted  black  and  white, 
And  hhadras  of  unwearied  might, 
And  Mandras  hard  to  tame.2 
Thus,  worthy  of  the  name  she  bore,3 
Ayodhya  for  a  league  or  more 

Cast  a  bright  glory  round, 
Where  Dasaratba  wise  and  great 
Governed  his  fair  ancestral  state, 

With  every  virtue  crowned. 
Like  Indra  in  the  skies  he  reigned 
In  that  good  town  whose  wall  contained 

High  domes  and  turrets  proud, 
With  gates  and  arcs  of  triumph  decked, 
And  sturdy  barriers  to  protect 

Her  gay  and  countless  crowd. 

CANTO  VII. 


THE  MINISTERS. 

Two  sages,  holy  saints,  had  he, 
His  ministers  and  priests  to  be  : 
Vasishtha,  faithful  to  advise, 
And  Vamadeva,  Scripture-wise. 


name  is  etymolpgically  connected  with 
Cambyses  which  in  the  cuneiform  inscrip- 
tion of  Behistun  is  written  Ka(m)bujia. 

1  The  elephants  of  Indra  and  other 
deities  who  preside  over  the  four  points 
of  the  compass. 

*  *  There  are  four  kinds  of  elephants. 
1  Bkaddar.  It  is  well  proportioned,  has 
an  erect  head,  a  broad  chest,  large  ears,  a 
long  tail,  and  is  bold  and  can  bear  fati- 
gue. 2  Mfind.  It  is  black,  has  yellow 
eyes,  a  uniformly  sized  body,  and  is  wild 
and  ungovernable.  3  Mirg.  It  has  a 
whitish  skin,  with  black  spots.  4  Mir. 
It  has  a  small  head,  and  oheys  readily. 
It  gets  frightened  when  it  thunders.' 
Aiti-i-Alibari,  Translated  by  H.  Bloch- 
mann,  Ain  41,  The  Imperial  Elephant 
Stables. 

3  Ayodhyd  means  not  to  be  fought 
against, 


Kight  other  lords  around  him  stood, 
All  skilled  to  counsel,  wise  and  good  : 
Jayanta,  Vijay,  Dhrishti  bold 
In  right,  affairs  of  war  controlled  : 
Siddharth  and  Arthasadhak  true 
Watched  o'er  expense  and  revenue, 
And  Dharmapal  and  wise  Asok 
Of  right  and  law  and  justice*  spoke. 
With  these  the  sage  Sumantra,  skilled 
To  urge  the  car,  high  station  filled. 

All  these  in  knowledge  duly  trained 
Each  passion  and  each  sense  restrained  : 
With  modest  manners,  nobly  bred 
Each  plan  and  nod  and  look  they  read, 
Upon  their  neighbours'  good  intent, 
Mo»t  active  and  benevolent : 
As  sit  the  Vasus1  round  their  king, 
They  sate  around  him  counselling. 
They  ne'er  in  virtue's  loftier  pride 
Another's  lowly  gifts  decried. 
In  fair  and  sremly  garb  arrayed, 
No  weak  uncertain  plans  they  made. 
Well  skilled  in  business,  fair  and  just, 
They  gained  the  people's  love  and  trust, 
And  thus  without  oppression  stored 
The  swelling  treasury  of  their  lord. 
-Hound  in  sweet  friendship  each  to  each, 
They  spoke  kind  thoughts  in  gentle  speech. 
They  looked  alike  with  equal  eye 
On  every  caste,  on  low  and  high. 
Devoted  to  their  king,  they  sought, 
Ere  his  tongue  spoke,  to  learn  his  thought, 
And  knew,  as  each  occasion  rose, 
To  hide  their  counsel  or  disclose. 
In  foreign  lands  or  in  their  own 
Whatever  passed,  to  them  was  known. 
By  secret  spies  they  timely  knew 
What  men  were  doing  or  would  do. 
Skilled  in  the  gr:unds  of  war  and  peace 
They  saw  the  monarch's  state  increase, 
Watching  his  weal  with  conquering  eye 
That  never  let  occasion  by, 
While  nature  lent  her  aid  to  bless 
Their  labours  with  unbought  success. 
Never  for  anger,  lust,  or  gain, 
Would  they  their  lips  with  falsehood  stain. 
Inclined  to  mercy  they  could  scan 
The  weakness  and  the  strength  of  man. 
They  fairly  judged  both  high  and  low, 
And  ne'er  would  wrong  a  guiltless  foe  ; 
Yet  if  a  fault  were  proved,  each  one 
Would  punish  e'en  his  own  dear  son. 
But  there  and  in  the  kingdom's  bound 
No  thief  or  man  impure  was  found  : 
None  of  loose  life  or  evil  fame, 
No  temper  of  another's  dame. 
Contented  with  their  lot  each  caste 

1  Attendants  of  Indra,  eight  Gods  whose 
names  signify  fire,  light  and  its  pheno- 
mena, 


Canto  VIII. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Calm  days  in  blissful  quiet  passed  ; 
And,  all  in  fitting  tasks  employed, 
Country  and  town  deep  rest  enjoyed, 
With  these  wise  lords  around  his  throne 

The  monarch  justly  reigned, 
And  making  every  heart  his  own 

The  love  of  all  rnen  gained. 
With  trusty  agents,  as  beseems, 

Each  distant  realm  he  scanned, 
As  the  sun  visits  with  his  beams 

Each  corner  of  the  land. 
Ne'er  would  he  on  a  mightier  foe 

With  hostile  troops  advance, 
Nor  at  an  equal  strike  a  blow 

In  war's  delusive  chance. 
These  lords  in  council  bore  their  part 
With  ready  brain  and  faithful  heart, 
With  skill  and  knowledge,  sense  and  tact, 
Good  to  advise  and  bold  to  act. 
And  high  and  endless  fame  he  won 

With  these  to  guide  his  schemes, 
As,  risen  in  his  might,  the  sun 

Wins  glory  with  his  beams. 

CANTO  VIII. 


SUMANTRA'S  SPEECH. 

But  splendid,  just,  and  great  of  mind, 
The  childless  king  for  offspring  pined. 
No  son  had  he  his  name  to  grace, 
Transmitter  of  his  royal  race. 
Long  had  his  anxious  bosom  wrought, 
And  as  he  pondered  rose  the  thought : 
'  A  votive  steed  'twere  good  to  slay, 
So  might  a  son  the  gift  repay.' 
Before  his  lords  his  plan  he  laid, 
And  bade  them  with  their  wisdom  aid : 
Then  with  these  words  Sumantra,  best 
Of  royal  counsellors,  addressed : 
*  Hither,  Vasishtha  at  their  head, 
Let  all  my  priestly  guides  be  led.' 
To  him  Sumantra  made  reply : 
'  Hear,  Sire,  a  tale  of  days  gone  by. 
To  many  a  sage  in  time  of  old, 
Sanatkumar,  the  saint,  foretold 
How  from  thine  ancient  line,  O  King, 
A  son,  when  years  came  round,  should 

spring. 

'  Here  dwells,' '  twas  thus  the  seer  began, 
'  Of  Kasyap's1  race,  a  holy  man, 
Vibhandak  named  :  to  him  shall  spring 
A  son, 'the  famous  Rishyasring. 
Bred  with  the  deer  that  round  him  roam, 
The  wood  shall  be  that  hermit's  home. 

1  Kasyap  was  a  grandson  of  the  God 
Brahma.  He  is  supposed  to  have  given 
his  name  to  Kashmir =Kasyapa-mira, 
Kasyap's  Lake. 


To  him  no  mortal  shall  be  known 
Except  his  holy  sire  alone. 
Still  by  those  laws  shall  he  abide 
Which  lives  of  youthful  Brahmans  guide, 
Obedient  to  the  strictest  rule 
That  forms  the  young  ascetic's  school : 
And  all  the  wondering  world  shall  hear 
Of  his  stern  life  and  penance  drear ; 
His  care  to  nurse  the  holy  fire 
And  do  the  bidding  of  his  sire. 
Then,  seated  on  the  Angas'1  throne, 
Shall  Lomapad  to  fame  be  known. 
But  folly  wrought  by  that  great  king 
A  plague  upon  the  land  shall  bring  ; 
No  rain  for  many  a  year  shall  fall 
And  grievous  drought  shall  ruin  all. 
The  troubled  king  with  many  a  prayer 
Shall  bid  the  priests  some  cure  declare : 
*  The  lore  of  Heaven  'tis  yours  to  know, 
Nor  are  ye  blind  to  things  below : 
Declare,  O  holy  men,  the  way 
This  plague  to  expiate  and  stay.' 
Those  best  of  Brahmans  shall  reply : 
'  By  every  art,  O  Monarch,  try 
Hither  to  bring  Vibhandak's  child, 
Persuaded,  captured,  or  beguiled. 
And  when  the  boy  is  hither  led 
To  him  thy  daughter  duly  wed.' 

But  how  to  bring  that  wondrous  boy 
His  troubled  thoughts  will  long  employ, 
And  hopeless  to  achieve  the  task 
He  counsel  of  his  lords  will  ask, 
And  bid  his  priests  and  servants  bring 
With  honour  saintly  Rishyasring. 
But  when  they  hear  the  monarch's  speech, 
All  these  their  master  will  beseech, 
With  trembling  hearts  and  looks  of  woe, 
To  spare  them,  for  they  fear  to  go. 
And  many  a  plan  will  they  declare 

And  crafty  plots  will  frame, 
And  promise  fair  to  show  him  there, 

Unforced,  with  none  to  blame. 
On  every  word  his  lords  shall  say, 

The  king  will  meditate, 
And  on  the  third  returning  day 

Recall  them  to  debate. 
Then  this  shall  be  the  plan  agreed, 

That  damsels  shall  be  sent 
Attired  in  holy  hermits'  weed, 

And  skilled  in  blandishment, 
That  they  the  hermit  may  beguile 
With  every  art  and  amorous  wile 


1  The  people  of  Anga.  'Anga  is  said  in 
the  lexicons  to  be  Bengal;  but  here  certainly 
another  region  is  intended  situated  at  the 
confluence  of  the  Sarju  with  the  Ganges, 
and  not  far  distant  from  Dasaratha's  do- 
minions.' GORRESIO.  It  comprised  part  of 
Behar  and  Bhagulpur. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  I. 


Whose  use  they  know  so  well, 
And  by  their  witcheries  seduce 
The  unsuspecting  young  recluse 

To  live  his  father's  cell. 
Then  when  the  boy  with  willing  feet 
Shall  wander  from  his  calm  retreat 

And  in  that  city  stand, 
The  troubles  of  the  king  shall  end, 
And  streams  of  blessed  rain  descend 

Upon  the  thirsty  land. 
Thus  shall  the  holy  Rishyasring 
To  Lomapad,  the  mighty  king, 

By  wedlock  be  allied  ; 
For  »3anta,  fairest  of  the  fair, 
In  mind  and  grace  beyond  compare, 

Shall  be  his  royal  bride. 
He,  at  the  Offering  of  the  Steed, 
The  flames  with  holy  oil  shall  feed, 
And  for  King  Dasaratha  gain 
Sons  whom  his  prayers  have  begged  in 
vain.' 

*  I  have  repeated,  Sire,  thus  far, 
The  words  of  old  Sanatkumar, 
In  order  as  he  spoke  them  then 
Amid  the  crowd  of  holy  men.' 

Then  Dasaratha  cried  with  joy, 

*  Say  how  they  brought  the  hermit  boy.' 


CANTO  IX. 


RISHYASRING. 

The  wise  Sumantra,  thus  addressed, 

Unfolded  at  the  king's  behest 

The  plan  the  lords  in  council  laid 

To  draw  the  hermit  from  the  shade  : 

4  The  priest,  amid  the  lordly  crowd, 

To  Lomapad  thus  spoke  aloud  : 

'  Hear,  King,  the  plot  our  thoughts  have 

framed, 

A  harmless  trick  by  all  unblamed. 
Far  from  the  world  that  hermit's  child 
Lives  lonely  in  the  distant  wild  : 
A  stranger  to  the  joys  of  sense, 
His  bliss  is  pain  and  abstinence  ; 
And  all  unknown  are  women  yet 
To  him,  a  holy  anchoret. 
The  gentle  passions  we  will  wake 
That  with  resistless  influence  shake 

The  hearts  of  men  ;  and  he 
Drawn  by  enchantment  strong  and  sweet 
Shall  follow  from  his  lone  retreat, 

And  come  and  visit  thee. 
Let  ships  be  formed  with  utmost  care 
That  artificial  trees  may  bear, 

And  sweet  fruit  deftly  made ; 
Let  goodly  raiment,  rich  and  rare, 
And  flowers,  and  many  a  bird  be  there 

Beneath  the  leafy  shade, 


Upon  the  ships  thus  decked  a  band 
Of  young  ana  lovely  girls  shall  stand, 
Rich  in  each  charm  that  wakes  desire, 
And  eyes  that  burn  with  amorous  tire  ; 
Well  skilled  to  sing,  and  play,  and  dance, 
And  ply  their  trade  with  smile  and  glance. 
Let  these,  attired  in  hermits'  dress, 
Betake  them  to  the  wilderness, 
And  bring  the  boy  of  life  austere 
A  voluntary  captive  here.' 

He  endea  ;  and  the  king  agreed, 

By  the  priest's  counsel  won. 
And  all  the  ministers  took  heed 

To  see  his  bidding  done. 
In  ships  with  wondrous  art  prepared 
Away  the  lovely  women  fared, 
And  soon  beneath  the  shade  they  stood 
Of  the  wild,  lonely,  dreary  wood. 
And  there  the  leafy  cot  they  found 

Where  dwelt  the  devotee, 
And  looked  with  eager  eyes  around 

The  hermit's  son  to  see. 
Still,  of  Vibhandak  sore  afraid, 
They  hid  behind  the  creepers'  shade. 
But  when  by  careful  watch  they  knew 
The  elder  saint  was  far  from  view, 
With  bolder  steps  they  ventured  nigh 
To  catch  the  youthful  hermit's  eye. 
Then  all  the  damsels,  blithe  and  gay, 
At  various  games  began  to  play. 
They  tossed  the  flying  ball  about 
With  dance  and  song  and  merry  shout, 
And  moved,  their  scented  tresses  bound 
With  wreaths,  in  mazy  motion  round. 
Some  girls  as  if  by  love  possessed, 
Sank  to  the  earth  in  feigned  unrest, 
Up  starting  quickly  to  pursue 
Their  intermitted  game  anew. 
It  was  a  lovely  sight  to  see 

Those  fair  ones,  as  they  played, 
While  fragrant  robes  were  floating  free, 
And  bracelets  clashing  in  their  glee 

A  pleasant  tinkling  made. 
The  anklet's  chime,  the  Roll's1  cry 

With  music  filled  the  place 
A  s  'twere  some  city  in  the  sky 
Which  heavenly  minstrels  grace. 
With  each  voluptuous  art  they  strove 
To  win  the  tenant  of  the  grove, 
And  with  their  graceful  forms  inspire 
His  modest  soul  with  soft  desire. 
With  arch  of  brow,  with  beck  and  smile, 
With  every  passion-waking  wile 


1  The  Roilori0&i20(Ciioulu8  Indicus)as 
the  harbinger  of  spring  and  love  is  a 
universal  favourite  with  Indian  poets.  His 
voice  when  first  heard  in  a  glorious  spring 
morning  is  not  unpleasant,  but  becomes 
in  the  hot  season  intolerably  wearisome 
to  European  ears, 


Cunto    IX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Of  glance  and  lotns  hand, 
With  all  enticements  that  excite 
The  longing  for  unknown  delight 

Which  boys  in  vain  withstand. 
Forth  came  the  hermit's  son  to  view 
The  wondrous  sight  to  him  so  new, 

And  gazed  in  rapt  surprise, 
For  from  his  natal  hour  till  then 
On  woman  or  the  sons  of  men 

He  ne'er  had  cast  his  eyes. 
He  saw  them  with  their  waists  so  slim, 
With  fairest  shape  and  faultless  limb, 
In  variegated  robes  arrayed, 
And  sweetly  singing  as  they  played. 
Near  and  more  near  the  hermit  drew, 

And  watched  them  at  their  game, 
And  stronger  still  the  impulse  grew 

To  question  whence  they  came. 
They  marked  the  young  ascetic  gaze 
With  curious  eye  and  wild  amaze, 
And  sweet  the  long-eyed  damsels  sang, 
And  shrill  their  merry  laughter  rang. 
Then  came  they  nearer  to  his  side, 
And  languishing  with  passion  cried  : 
*  Whose  son,  O  youth,  and  who  art  thou, 
Come  suddenly  to  join  us  now  ? 
And  why  dost  thou  all  lonely  dwell 
In  the  wild  wood  ?  We  pray  thee,  tell, 
We  wish  to  know  thee,  gentle  youth  ; 
Come,  tell  us,  if  thou  wilt,  the  truth.' 

He  gazed  upon  that  sight  he  ne'er 
Had  seen  before,  of  girls  so  fair, 
And  out  of  love  a  longing  rose 
His  sire  and  lineage  to  disclose  : 
'  My  father,'  thus  he  made  reply, 
'  Is  Kas  yap's  son,  a  saint  most  high, 
Vibhaudak  styled  ;  from  him  I  came, 
And  Rishyasring  he  calls  my  name. 
Our  hermit  cot  is  near  this  place  : 
Come  thither,  0  ye  fair  of  face  ; 
There  be  it  mine,  with  honour  due, 
Ye  gentle  youths,  to  welcome  you.' 

They  heard  his  speech,  and  gave  consent, 
And  gladly  to  his  cottage  went, 
Vibhandak's  son  received  them  well 
Beneath  the  shelter  of  his  cell 
With  guest-gift,  water  for  their  feet, 
And  woodland  fruit  and  roots  to  eat, 
They  smiled,  and  spoke  sweet  words  like 

these, 

Delighted  with  his  courtesies  : 
'  We  too  have  goodly  fruit  in  store, 
Grown  on  the  trees  that  shade  our  door  ; 
Come,  if  thou  wilt,  kind  Hermit,  haste 
The  produce  of  our  grove  to  taste  ; 
And  let,  0  good  Ascetic,  first 
This  holy  water  quench  thy  thirst.' 
They  spoke,  and  gave  him  comfits  sweet 
Prepared  ripe  fruits  to  counterfeit ; 
And  many  a  dainty  cate  beside 
And  luscious  mead  their  stores  supplied. 


The  seeming  fruits,  in  taste  and  look, 

The  unsuspecting  hermit  took, 

For,  strange  to  him,  their  form  beguiled 

The  dweller  in  the  lonely  wild, 

Then  round  his  neck  fair  arms  were  flun^ 

And  there  the  laughing  damsels  clung, 

And  pressing  nearer  and  more  near 

With  sweet  lips  whispered  at  his  ear  ; 

While  rounded  limb  and  swelling  breast 

The  youthful  hermit  softly  pressed. 

The  pleasing  charm  of  that  strange  bowl. 

The  touch  of  a  tender  limb, 
Over  his  yielding  spirit  stole 

And  sweetly  vanquished  him. 
But  vows,  they  said,  must  now  be  paid  ; 

They  bade  the  boy  farewell, 
And,  of  the  aged  saint  afraid, 

Prepared  to  leave  the  dell. 
With  ready  guile  they  told  him  where 

Their  hermit  dwelling  lay  ; 
Then,  lest  the  sire  should  find  them  then 

Sped  by  wild  paths  away. 
They  fled  and  left  him  there  alone 

By  longing  love  possessed  ; 
And  with  a  heart  no  more  his  own 

He  roamed  about  distressed. 
The  aged  saint  came  home,  to  find 

The  hermit  boy  distraught, 
Revolving  in  his  troubled  mind 

One  solitary  thought. 
'Why  dost  thou  riot,  my  son,'  he  cried, 

*  Thy  due  obeisance  pay  ? 
Why  do  I  see  thee  in  the  tide 

Of  whelming  thought  to-day  ? 
A  devotee  should  never  wear 

A  mien  so  sad  and  strange. 
Come,  quickly,  dearest  child,  declare 

The  reason' of  the  change.' 
And  Rishyasring,  when  questioned  thus, 

Made  answer  in  this  wise  : 
'  0  sire,  there  came  to  visit  us 

Some  men  with  lovely  eyes, 
About  my  neck  soft  arms  they  wound 

And  kept  me  tightly  held 
To  tender  breasts  so  soft  and  round, 

That  strangely  heaved  and  swelled. 
They  sing  more  sweetly  as  they  dance 

Than  e'er  I  heard  till  now, 
And  play  with  many  a  sidelong  glance 

And  arching  of  the  brow.' 
'  My  son,'  said  he,  'thus  giants  roam 

Where  holy  hermits  are, 
And  wander  round  their  peaceful  home 

Their  rites  austere  to  mar. 
I  charge  thee,  thou  must  never  lay 

Thy  trust  in  them,  dear  boy  : 
They  seek  thee  only  to  betray, 

And  woo  but  to  destroy.' 
Thus  having  warned  him  of  his  foes 

That  night  at  home  he  spent, 
And  when  the  morrow's  sun  arose 


18 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  L 


Forth  to  the  forest  went. 

But  Rishyasring  with  eager  pace 
Sped  forth  and  hurried  to  the  place 
Where  he  those  visitants  had  seen 
Of  daintly  waist  and  charming  mien. 
When  from  afar  they  saw  the  son 
Of  Saint  Vibhandak  toward  them  run, 
To  meet  the  hermit  boy  they  hied, 
And  hailed  him  with  a  smile,  and  cried ; 
*  0  come,  we  pray,  dear  lord,  behold 
Our  lovely  home  of  which  we  toJd  : 
Due  honour  there  to  thee  we'll  pay, 
And  speed  thee  on  thy  homeward  way.' 
Pleased  with  the  gracious  words  they  said 
He  followed  where  the  damsels  led. 
As  with  his  guides  his  steps  he  bent, 

That  Brahman  high  of  worth, 
A  flood  of  rain  from  heaven  was  sent 

That  gladdened  all  the  earth. 

Vibhandak  took  his  homeward  road, 
And  wearied  by  the  heavy  load 
Of  roots  and  woodland  fruit  he  bore 
Entered  at  last  his  cottage  door. 
Fain  for  his  son  he  looked  around, 
But  desolate  the  cell  he  found. 
He  stayed  not  then  to  bathe  his  feet, 
Though  fainting  with  the  toil  and  heat, 
But  hurried  forth  and  roamed  about 
Calling  the  boy  with  cry  and  shout. 
He  searched  the  wood,  but  all  in  vain  ; 
Nor  tidings  of  his  son  could  gain. 

One  day  beyond  the  forest's  bound 
The  wandering  saint  a  village  found, 
And  asked  the  swains  and  neatherds  there 
Who  owned  the  land  so  rich  and  fair, 
With  all  the  hamlets  of  the  plain, 
And  herds  of  kine  and  fields  of  grain. 
They  listened  to  the  hermit's  words, 
And  all  the  guardians  of  the  herds, 
With  suppliant  hands  together  pressed, 
This  answer  to  the  saint  addressed  : 
The  Angas'  lord  who  bears  the  name 
Of  Lomapad,  renowned  by  fame, 
Bestowed  these  hamlets  with  their  kine 
And  all  their  riches,  as  a  sign 
Of  grace,  on  Rishyasring  ;  and  he 
Vibhandak's  son  is  said  to  be.' 
The  hermit  with  exulting  breast 
The  mighty  will  of  fate  confessed, 
By  meditation's  eye  discerned  ; 
And  cheerful  to  his  home  returned. 

A  stately  ship,  at  early  morn, 
The  hermit's  son  away  had  borne. 
Loud  roared  the  clouds,  as  on  he  sped, 
The  sky  grew  blacker  overhead  ; 
Till,  as  he  reached  the  royal  town, 
A  mighty  flood  of  rain  came  down. 
By  the  great  rain  the  monarch's  mind 
The  coming  of  his  guest  divined. 
To  meet  the  honoured  youth  he  went, 
And  low  to  earth  his  head  he  bent. 


With  his  own  priest  to  lead  the  train, 
He  gave  the  gift  high  guests  obtain. 
And  sought,  with  all  who  dwelt  within 
The  city  walls,  his  grace  to  win. 
He  fed  him  with  the  daintiest  fare, 
He  served  him  with  unceasing  care, 
And  ministered  with  anxious  eyes 
Lest  anger  in  his  breast  should  rise  ; 
And  gave  to  be  the  Brahman's  bride 
His  own  fair  daughter,  lot  us- eyed. 

Thus  loved  and  honoured  by  the  king, 
The  glorious  Brahman  Rishyasring 
Passed  in  that  royal  town  his  life 
With  Santa  his  beloved  wife.' 

CANTO  X. 


RISHYASRING  INVITED. 

*  Again,  0  best  of  kings,  give  ear  : 
My  saving  words  attentive  hear, 
And  listen  to  the  tale  of  old 

By  that  illustrious  Brahman  told. 

*  Of  famed  Ikshvaku's  line  shall  spring 
('Twas  thus  he  spoke)  a  pious  king, 
Named  Dasaratha,  good  and  great, 
True  to  his  word  and  fortunate. 

He  with  the  Angas'  mighty  lord 
Shall  ever  live  in  sweet  accord, 
And  his  a  daughter  fair  shall  be, 
Santa  of  happy  destiny. 
But  Lomapad,  the  Angas'  chief, 
Still  pining  in  his  childless  grief, 
To  Dasaratha  thus  shall  say  : 
*Give  me  thy  daughter,  friend,  I  pray, 
Thy  Santa  of  the  tranquil  mind, 
The  noblest  one  of  womankind.' 

The  father,  swift  to  feel  for  woe, 
Shall  on  his  friend  his  child  bestow  ; 
And  he  shall  take  her  and  depart 
To  his  own  town  with  joyous  heart. 
The  maiden  home  in  triumph  led, 
To  Rishyasring  the  king  shall  wed. 
And  he  with  loving  joy  and  pride 
Shall  take  her  for  his  honoured  bride. 
And  Dasaratha  to  a  rite 
That  best  of  Brahmans  shall  invite 

With  supplicating  prayer, 
To  celebrate  the  sacrifice 
To  win  him  sons  and  Paradise,1 

That  he  will  fain  prepare. 


1  'Sons  and  Paradise  are  intimately 
connected  in  Indian  belief.  A  man  desires 
above  every  thing  to  have  a  son  to  perpe- 
tuate his  race,  and  to  assist  with  sacrifices 
and  funeral  rites  to  make  him  worthy  to 
obtain  a  lofty  seat  in  heaven  or  to  pre- 
serve tli at  which  he  has  already  obtained.' 
GOKRESIO. 


Canto  XL 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


From  him  the  lord  of  men  at  length 

The  boon  be  seeks  shall  gain, 
And  see  four  sons  of  boundless  strength 

His  royal  line  maintain.' 
'  Thus  did  the  godlike  saint  of  old 

The  will  of  fate  declare, 
And  all  that  sbould  befall  unfold 

Amid  the  sages  there. 
O  Prince  supreme  of  men,  go  thou, 

Consult  thy  holy  guide, 
And  win,  to  aid  thee  in  thy  vow, 

This  brahman  to  thy  side.' 
Sumantra's  counsel,  wise  and  good, 

King  Dasaratha  heard, 
Then  by  Vasishtha's  side  he  stood 
And  thus  with  him  conferred  : 

*  Sumantra  counsels  thus  :  do  thou 
My  priestly  guide,  the  plan  allow.' 

Vasishtha  gave  his  glad  consent, 
And  forth  the  happy  monarch  went 
With  lords  and  servants  on  the  road 
That  led  to  Rishyasring's  abode. 
Forests  and  rivers  duly  past, 
He  reached  the  distant  town  at  last 
Of  Lomapad  the  Angas'  king, 
And  entered  it  with  welcoming. 
On  through  the  crowded  streets  he  came, 
And,  radiant  as  the  kindled  flame, 
He  saw  within  the  monarch's  house 
The  hermit's  son  most  glorious. 
There  Lomapad,  with  joyful  breast, 

To  him  all  honour  paid, 
For  friendship  for  his  royal  guest 

His  faithful  bosom  swayed. 
Thus  entertained  with  utmost  care 
Seven  days,  or  eight,  he  tarried  there, 
And  then  that  best  men  thus  broke 
His  purpose  to  the  king,  and  spoke  ; 
«  0  King  of  men,  mine  ancient  friend, 

(Thus  Dasaratha  prayed) 
Thy  £anta  with  her  husband  send 

My  sacrifice  to  aid.' 
Said  he  who  ruled  the  Angas,  Yea, 

And  his  consent  was  won  : 
And  then  at  once  he  turned  away 

To  warn  the  hermit's  son. 
He  told  him  of  their  ties  beyond 
Their  old  affection's  faithful  bond  : 

*  This  king,'  he  said,  '  from  days  of  old 
A  well  beloved  friend  I  hold. 

To  me  this  pearl  of  dames  he  gave 

From  childless  woe  mine  age  to  save, 

The  daughter  whom  he  loved  so  much, 

Moved  by  compassion's  gentle  touch. 

In  him  thy  Santa's  father  see  : 

As  I  am  even  so  is  he. 

For  sons  the  childless  monarch  yearns  : 

To  thee  alone  for  help  he  turns. 

Go  thou,  the  sacred  rite  ordain 

To  win  the  sons  he  prays  to  gain  : 

Go,  with  thy  wife  thy  succour  lend, 


And  give  his  vows  a  blissful  end.' 

The  hermit's  son  with  quick  accord 
Obeyed  the  Angas'  mighty  lord, 
And  with  fair  Sant&  at  his  side 
To  Dasaratha's  city  hied. 
Each  king,  with  suppliant  hands  upheld, 

Gazed  on  the  other's  face  : 
And  then  by  mutual  love  impelled 

Met  in  a  close  embrace. 
Then  Dasaratha's  thoughtful  care, 

Before  he  parted  thence, 
Bade  trusty  servants  homeward  bear 

The  glad  intelligence  : 
*  Let  all  the  town  be  bright  and  gay, 

With  burning  incense  sweet ; 
Let  banners  wave,  and  water  lay 

The  dust  in  every  street.' 
Glad  were  the  citizens  to  learn 
The  tidings  of  their  lord's  return, 
And  through  the  city  every  man 
Obedienly  his  task  began. 
And  fair  and  bright  Ayodhya  showed, 
As  following  his  guest  he  rode 
Through  the  full  streets  where  shell  and 

drum 

Proclaimed  aloud  the  king  was  come. 
And  all  the  people  with  delight 

Kept  gazing  on  thei  r  king, 
Attended  by  that  youth  so  bright, 

The  glorious  Rishyasring. 
When  to  his  home  the  king  had  brought 

The  hermit's  saintly  son, 
He  deemed  that  all  his  task  was  wrought, 

And  all  he  prayed  for  won. 
And  lords  who  saw  that  stranger  dame 

!So  beautiful  to  view, 
Rejoiced  within  their  hearts,  and  came 

And  paid  her  honour  too. 
There  Rishyasring  passed  blissful  days. 
Graced  like*  the  king  with  love  and  praise. 
And  shone  in  glorious  light  with  her, 
Sweet  $anta,  for  his  minister, 
As  Brahma's  son  Vasishtha,  he 
Who  wedded  Saint  Arundhati.1 


CANTO  XI. 


THE  SACRIFICE  DECREED. 

The  Dewy  Season2  came  and  went  ; 

The  spring  returned  again  : 
Then  would  the  king,  with  mind  intent, 

His  sacrifice  ordain. 

i  One  of  the  Pleiades  and  generally  re- 
garded  as  the  model  of  wifely  excellence. 

*  The  Hindu  year  is  divided  into  six 
seasons  of  two  months  each,  spring,  sum- 
mer, rains,  autumn,  winter,  and  dews, 


20 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  /. 


He  came  to  Rishyasring,  and  bowed 

To  him  of  look  divine, 
And  bade  him  aid  his  offering  vowed 

For  heirs,  to  save  his  line. 
Nor  would  the  youth  his  aid  deny  : 

He  spake  the  monarch  fair, 
And  prayed  him  for  that  rite  so  high 

All  requisites  prepare. 
The  king  to  wise  Sumantra  cried 

Who  stood  aye  ready  near  ; 
*  Go  summon  quick  each  holy  guide, 

To  counsel  and  to  hear.' 
Obedient  to  his  lord's  behest 

Away  Sumantra  sped, 
And  brought  Vasishtha  and  the  rest, 

In  Scripture  deeply  read. 
Suyajna,  Vamadeva  came, 

Javali,  Kasyap's  son, 
And  old  Vasishtha,  dear  to  fame, 

Obedient  every  one. 
King  Dasaratha  met  them  there 

And  duly  honoured  each, 
And  spoke  in  pleasant  words  his  fair 

And  salutary  speech ; 
'  In  childless  longing  doomed  to  pine, 
No  happiness,  O  lords,  is  mine. 
So  have  I  for  this  cause  decreed 
To  slay  the  sacrificial  steed. 
Fain  would  I  pay  that  offering  high 
Wherein  the  horse  is  doomed  to  die, 
With  Rishyasring  his  aid  to  lend, 
And  with  your  glory  to  befriend.' 

With  loud  applause  each  holy  man 
Received  his  speech,  approved  the  plan, 
And,  by  the  wise  Vasishtha  led, 
Gave  praises  to  the  king,  and  said  : 
*The  sons  thou  cravest  shalt  thou  see, 
Of  fairest  glory,  born  to  thee, 
Whose  holy  feelings  bid  thee  take 
This  righteous  course  for  offspring's  sake.' 
Cheered  by  the  ready  praise  of  those 
Whose  aid  he  sought,  his  spirits  rose, 
And  thus  the  king  his  speech  renewed 
With  looks  of  joy  and  gratitude : 
<Let  what  the  coming  rites  require 
Be  ready  as  the  priests  desire, 
And  let  the  horse,  ordained  to  bleed, 
With  fitting  guard  and  priest,  be  freed, 
Yonder  on  Sarju's  northern  side 
The  sacrificial  ground  provide  ; 
And  let  the  saving  rites,  that  naught 
Ill-omened  may  occur,  be  wrought. 
The  offering  I  announce  to-day 
Each  lord  of  earth  may  claim  to  pay, 
Provided  that  his  care  can  guard 


1  It  was  essential  that  the  horse  should 
wander  free  for  a  year  before  immolation, 
as  a  sign  that  his  master's  paramount 
sovereignty  was  acknowledged  by 
neighbouring  princes, 


The  holy  rite  by  flaws  unmarred. 
For  wandering  fiends,  whose  watchful  spite 
Waits  eagerly  to  spoil  each  rite, 
Hunting  with  keenest  eye  detect 
The  slightest  slip,  the  least  neglect ; 
And  when  the  sacred  work  is  crossed 
The  workman  is  that  moment  lost. 
Let  preparation  due  be  made  : 

Your  powers  the  charge  can  meet : 
That  so  the  noble  rite  be  paid 

In  every  point  complete.' 
And  all  the  Brahmans  answered,  Yea, 

His  mandate  honouring, 
And  gladly  promised  to  obey 

The  order  of  the  king. 
They  cried  with  voices  raised  aloud  : 

*  Success  attend  thine  aim  !' 
Then  bade  farewell,  and  lowly  bowed, 

And  hastened  whence  they  came. 
King  Dasaratha  went  within, 

His  well  loved  wives  to  see  : 
And  said  :  *  Your  lustral  rites  begin, 

For  these  shall  prosper  me. 
A  glorious  offering  I  prepare 
That  precious  fruit  of  sons  may  bear.' 
Their  lily  faces  brightened  fast 

Those  pleasant  words  to  hear, 
As  lilies,  when  the  winter's  past, 
In  lovelier  hues  appear. 

CANTO  XII. 


THE  SACRIFICE  BEGUN. 

Again  the  spring  with  genial  heat 
Returning  made  the  year  complete. 
To  win  him  sons,  without  delay 
His  vow  the  king  resolved  to  pay : 
And  to  Vasishtha,  saintly  man, 
In  modest  words  this  speech  began  : 
'  Prepare  the  rite  with  all  things  fit 
As  is  ordained  in  Holy  Writ, 
And  keep  with  utmost  care  afar 
Whate'er  its  sacred  forms  might  mar. 
Thou  art,  my  lord,  my  trustiest  guide, 
Kind -hearted,  and  my  friend  beside  ; 
So  is  it  meet  thou  undertake 
This  heavy  task  for  duty's  sake.' 

Then  he,  of  twice-born  men  the  best, 
His  glad  assent  at  once  expressed  : 
'  Fain  will  I  do  whatever  may  be 
Desired,  O  honoured  King,  by  thee.' 
To  ancient  priests  he  spoke,  who,  trained 
In  holy  rites,  deep  skill  had  gained  : 
*  Here  guards  be  stationed,  good  and  sage, 
Religious  men  of  trusted  age. 
And  various  workmen  send  and  call, 
Who  frame  the  door  and  build  the  wall : 
With  men  of  every  art  and  trade, 
Who  read  the  stars  and  ply  the  spade, 


Canto  XII. 


THE  RA MAYAN. 


21 


And  mimes  and  minstrels  hither  bring, 
And  damsels  trained  to  dance  and  sing.' 

Then  to  the  learned  men  he  said, 
In  many  a  page  of  Scripture  read  : 
*  Be  yours  each  rite  performed  to  see 
According  to  the  king's  decree. 
And  stranger  Brahmans  quickly  call 
To  this  great  rite  that  welcomes  all. 
Pavilions  for  the  princes,  decked 
With  art  and  ornament,  erect, 
And  handsome  booths  by  thousands  made 
The  Brahman  visitors  to  shade, 
Arranged  in  order  side  by  side, 
With  meat  and  drink  and  all  supplied. 
And  ample  stables  we  shall  need 
For  many  an  elephant  and  steed  : 
And  chambers  where  the  men  may  lie, 
And  vast  apartments,  broad  and  high, 
Fit  to  receive  the  countless  bands 
Of  warriors  come  from  distant  lands. 
For  our  own  people  too  provide 
Sufficient  tents,  extended  wide, 
And  stores  of  meat  and  drink  prepare, 
And  all  that  can  be  needed  there. 
And  food  in  plenty  must  be  found 
For  guests  from  all  the  country  round. 
Of  various  viands  presents  make, 
For  honour,  not  for  pity's  sake, 
That  tit  regard  and  worship  be 
Paid  to  each  caste  in  due  degree. 
And  let  not  wish  or  wrath  excite 
Your  hearts  the  meanest  guest  to  slight ; 
But  still  observe  with  special  grace 
Those  who  obtain  the  foremost  place, 
Whether  for  happier  skill  in  art 
Or  bearing  .in  the  rite  their  part. 
Do  you,  1  pray,  with  friendly  mind 
Perform  the  task  to  you  assigned, 
And  work  the  rite,  as  bids  the  law, 
Without  omission,  slip,  or  flaw.' 

They  answered :  '  As  thpu  seest  fit 
So  will  we  do  and  naught  omit.' 
The  sage  Vasishtha  then  addressed 
Sumantra  called  at  his  behest : 
'  The  princes  of  the  earth  invite, 
And  famous  lords  who  guard  the  rite, 
Priest,  Warrior,  Merchant,  lowly  thrall, 
In  countless  thousands  summon  all. 
Where'er  their  home  be,  far  or  near, 
Gather  the  good  with  honour  here. 
And  Janak,  whose  imperial  sway 
The  men  of  Mithila1  obey, 
The  firm  of  vow,  the  dread  of  foes, 
Who  all  the  lore  of  Scripture  knows, 


1  Called  also  Videha,  later  Tirabhukti 
corrupted  into  the  modern  Tirhut,   a  pro 
vince  bounded  on  the  west  and  east  by  th( 
Gandaki  and  Kausiki  rivers,  on  the  south 
by  the  Ganges,  and  on  the  north  by  the 
skirts  of  the  Himalayas, 


Invite  him  here  with  honour  high, 
King  Dasaratha's  old  ally. 
And  Kasi's1  lord  of  gentle  speech, 
Who  finds  a  pleasant  word  for  each, 
In  length  of  days  our  monarch's  peer, 
Illustrious  king,  invite  him  here. 
The  father  of  our  ruler's  bride,  ^ 
Known  for  his  virtues  far  and  wide, 
The  king  whom  Kekaya's*  realms  obey, 
Him  with  his  son  invite,  I  pray. 
And  Lomapad  the  Angas'  king, 

Drue  to  his  vows  and  godlike,  bring. 

?or  be  thine  invitations  sent 

0  west  and  south  and  orient. 

_all  those  who  rule  Surashtra's3  land, 
Suvira  s4  realm  and  Sindhu's  strand, 
And  all  the  kings  of  earth  beside 
]n  friendship's  bonds  with  us  allied : 
[nvite  them  all  to  hasten  in 
With  retinue  and  kith  and  kin.' 

Vasishtha's  speech  without  delay 
Sumantra  bent  him  to  obey. 
And  sent  his  trusty  envoys  forth 
Eastward  and  westward,  south  and  north. 
Dbedient  to  the  saint's  request 
Himself  he  hurried  forth,  and  pressed 
Each  nobler  chief  and  lord  and  king 
To  hasten  to  the  gathering. 
Before  the  saint  Vasishtha  stood 
All  those  who  wrought  with  stone  and  wood, 
And  showed  the  work  which  every  one 
In  furtherance  of  the  rite  had  done, 
Rejoiced  their  ready  zeal  to  see, 
Thus  to  fhe  craftsmen  all  said  he: 
4 1  charge  ye,  masters,  see  to  this, 
That  there  be  nothing  done  amiss, 
And  this,  I  pray,  in  mind  be  borne, 
That  not  one  gift  ye  give  in  Scorn : 
Whenever  scorn  a  gift  attends 
Great  sin  is  his  who  thus  offends.' 

And  now  some  days  and  nights  had  past, 
And  kings  began  to  gather  fast, 
And  precious  gems  in  liberal  store 
As  gifts  to  Dasaratha  bore. 
Then  joy   thrilled    through  Vasishtha's 

breast 
As  thus  the  monarch  he  addressed : 

1  Obedient  to  thy  high  decree 

The  kings,  my  lord,  are  come  to  thee. 

1  The  celebrated  city  of  Benares.  See 
Dr.  Halls's  learned  and  exhaustive  Mono- 
graph in  the  Sacred  City  of  the  Hindus, 
by  the  Rev.  M.  A.  Sherring. 

* 2  Kekaya  is  supposed  to  have  been  in 
the  Panjab.  The  name  of  the  king  was 
Asvapati  (Lord  of  Horses),  father  of 
Dasaratha's  wife  Kaikeyi. 

3  Surat. 

4  Apparently  in  the  west  of  India  not 
far  from  the  Indus, 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


And  it  has  been  my  care  to  greet 
And  honour  all  with  reverence  meet. 
Thy  servants'  task  is  ended  quite, 
And  all  is  ready  for  the  rite, 
Come  fort'i  then  to  the  sacred  ground 
Where  all  in  order  will  be  found.' 
Then  Rishyasiing  confirmed  the  tale: 
Nor  did  their  words  to  move  him  fail. 
The  stars  propitious  influence  lent 
When  forth  the  world's  great  ruler  went, 

Then  by  the  sage  Vasishtha  led 
The  priest  began  to  speed 

Those  glorious  rites  wherein  is  shed 
The  lif  eblood  of  the  steed. 


CANTO  XIII. 


THE  SACRIFICE  FINISHED. 

The  circling  year  had  filled  its  course, 
And  back  was  brought  the  wandering  horse: 
Then  upon  Sarju's  northern  strand 
Began  the  rite  the  king  had  planned. 
With  Rishyasring  the  forms  to  guide, 
The  Brahmans  to  their  task  applied, 
At  that  great  offering  of  the  steed 
Their  lofty-minded  king  decreed. 
The  priests,  who  all  the  Scripture  knew, 
Performed  their  part  in  order  due, 
And  circled  round  in  solemn  train 
As  precepts  of  the  law  ordain. 
Pravargya  rites1  were  duly  sped: 
For  Upasads2  the  flames  were  fed. 
Then    from   the    plant5    the   juice   was 

squeezed, 
And  those  high  saints  with  minds  well 

pleased 

Performed  the  mystic  rites  begun 
With  bathing  ere  the  rise  of  sun. 
They  gave  the  portion  Indra's  claim, 


1  'The  Pravargya  ceremony  lasts  for 
three  days,  and  is  always  performed 
twice  a  day,  in  the  forenoon  and  after- 
noon. It  precedes  the  animal  and  Sonia 
sacrifices.  For  without  having  undergone 
it,  no  one  is  allowed  to  take  part  in  the 
solemn  Soma  feast  prepared  for  the  gods.' 
HAUG'S  Altareya,  Brahmanam.  Vol.  II. 
p.  41.  note  y.  v. 

*  Upasads.  'The  Gods  said,  Let  us 
perform  the  burnt-offerings  called  Upasads 
(I.  e.  besieging).  For  by  means  of  an 
Upasad,  i.  e.  besieging,  they  conquer  a 
large  (fortified)  town.' — Ibid.  p.  52. 

3  The  Soma  plant,  or  Asclepias  Acida. 
Its  fermented  juice  was  drunk  in  sacrifice 
by  the  priests  and  offered  to  the  Gods 
who  enjoyed  the  intoxicating  draught. 


And  hymned  the  King  whom  none  can 

blame. 

The  mid-day  bathing  followed  next, 
Observed  as  bids  the  holy  text. 
Then  the  good  priests  with  utmost  care, 
In  form  that  Scripture's  rules  declare, 
For  the  third  time  pure  water  shed 
On  high-souled  Dasaratha's  head. 
Then  Rishyasring  and  all  the  rest 
To  Indra  and  the  Gods  addressed 
Their  sweet-toned  hymn   of    praise  and 

prayer, 

And  called  them  in  the  rite  to  share. 
With  sweetest  song  and  hymn  entoned 
They  gave  the  Gods  in  heaven  enthroned, 
As  duty  bids,  the  gifts  they  claim, 
The  holy  oil  that  feeds  the  flame. 
And  many  an  offering  there  was  paid, 
And  not  one  slip  in  all  was  made. 
For  with  most  careful  heed  they  saw 
That  all  was  done  by  Veda  law. 
None,  all  those  days,  was  seen  oppressed 
By  hunger  or  by  toil  distressed. 
Why  speak  of  human  kind  ?  No  beast 
Was  there  that  lacked  an  ample  feast. 
For  there  was  store  for  all  who  came, 
For  orphan  child  and  lonely  dame  ; 
The  old  and  young  were  well  supplied, 
The  poor  and  hungry  satisfied. 
Throughout  the  day  ascetics  fed, 
And  those  who  roam  to  beg  their  bread: 
While  all  around  the  cry  was  still, 
<  Give  forth,  give  forth,'  and  «  Eat  you  fill/ 
'  Give  forth  with  liberal  hand  the  meal, 
And  various  robes  in  largess  deal.' 
Urged  by  these  cries  on  every  side 
Unweariedly  their  task  they  plied  : 
And  heaps  of  food  like  hills  in  size 
In  boundless  plenty  met  the  eyes  : 
And  lakes  of  sauce,  each  day  renewed, 
Refreshed  the  weary  multitude. 
And  strangers  there  from  distant  lands, 
And  women  folk  in  crowded  bands 
The  best  of  food  and  drink  obtained 
At  the  great  rite  the  king  ordained. 
Apart  from  all,  the  Brahmans  there, 
Thousands  on  thousands,  took  their  share 
Of  various  dainties  sweet  to  taste, 
On  plates  of  gold  and  silver  placed, 
All  ready  set,  as,  when  they  willed, 
The  twice-born  men  their  places  filled. 
And  servants  in  fair  garments  dressed 
Waited  upon  each  Brahman  guest. 
Of  cheerful  mind  and  mien  were  they, 
With  gold  and  jewelled  earrings  gay. 
The  best  of  Brahmans  praised  the  fare 
Of  countless  sorts,  of  flavour  rare  : 
And  thus  to  Kaghu's  son  they  cried  : 
'  We  bless  thee,  and  are  satisfied.' 
Between  the  rites  some  Brahmans  spent 
The  time  in.  learned  argument, 


Canto  XIII. 


THE  RAM'AYAN. 


23 


With  ready  flow  of  speech,  sedate, 
And  keen  to  vanquish  in  debate.1 

There  day  by  day  the  holy  train 
Performed  all  rites  as  rales  ordain. 
No  priest  in  all  that  host  was  found 
But  kept  the  vows  that  held  him  bound  : 
None,  but  the  holy  Vedas  knew, 
And  all  their  six-fold  science*  too. 
No  Brahman  there  was  found  unfit 
To  speak  with  eloquence  and  wit. 

And  now  the  appointed  time  came  near 
The  sacrificial  posts  to  rear. 
They  brought  them,  and  prepared  to  fix 
Of  Bel3  and  Khadir4  six  ana  six  ; 
Six,  made  of  the  Palasa5  tree, 
Of  Fig-wood  one,  apart  to  be  : 
Of  Sleshmat6  and  of  Devadar7 
One  column  each,  the  mightiest  far  : 
So  thick  the  two,  the  arms  of  man 
Their  ample  girth  would  fail  to  span. 
All  these  with  utmost  care  were  wrought 
By  hand  of  priests  in  Scripture  taught, 
And  all  with  gold  were  gilded  bright 
To  add  new  splendour  to  the  rite  : 


1  'Turn  in  casrimoniarum  intervallis 
Brachmanae  facundi,  sollertes,  crebros  ser- 
mones  de  rerum  causis  insbituebant,  alter 
alterum  vineendi  cupidi.  This  public  dis- 
putation in  the  assembly  of  Brahmans  on 
the  nature  of  things,  and  the  almost  fra- 
ternal connexion  between  theology  and 
philosophy  deserves  some  notice  ;  whereas 
the  priests  of  some  religions  are  generally 
but  little  inclined  to  show  favour  to  phi- 
losophers, nay,  sometimes  persecute  them 
with  the  most  rancorous  hatred,  as  we  are 
taught  both  by  history  and  experience... 
This  slvka  is  found  in  the  MSS.  of  dif- 
ferent recensions  of  the  Bamayan,  and  we 
have,  therefore,  the  most  trustworthy 
testimony  to  the  antiquity  of  philosophy 
among  the  Indians.'  SCHLEGEL. 

*  The  Angas  or  appendices  of  the  Vedas, 
pronunciation,  prosody,  grammar,  ritual, 
astronomy,  and  explanation  of  obscurities. 

3  In  Sanskrit  vilva,  the  JEyle  Marmelos. 
*  He  who  desires  food  and  wishes  to  grow 
fat,  ought  to  make  his  Yupa  (sacrificial 
post'  of  Bilva  wood.'    HAUG'S  Aitareya 
ordhmanam.  Vol.  If.  p.  7 3. 

4  The  Mimosa  Catechu.    *  He  who   de- 
sires heaven  ought  to  make  his  Yupa  of 
Khadira  wood,'— Ibid. 

*>  The  Butea  Frondosa.  *  He  who  desires 
beauty  and  sacred  knowledge  ought  to 
make  his  Yupa  of  Palasa  wood.'— ^Ibid. 

6  The  Cardla,  Latifolia. 

7  A  kind   of    pine.    The   word    means 
literally  the  tree  of  the  Gods  :  Compare 
the  Hebrew  rOTT  ^227  *  trees  of  the  Lord,' 


Twenty-and-one  those  stakes  in  all, 
Each  one-and-twenty  cubits  tall ; 
And  one-and-twenty  ribbons  there 
Hung  on  the  pillars,  bright  and  fair, 
Firm  in  the  earth  they  stood  at  last, 
Where  cunning  craftsmen  fixed  them  fast ; 
And  there  unshaken  each  remained, 
Octagonal  and  smoothly  planed. 
Then  ribbons  over  all  were  hung, 
And  flowers  and  scent  around  them  flang. 
Thus  decked  they  cast  a  glory  forth 
Like  the  great  saints  who  star  the  north.1 
The  sacrificial  altar  then 
Was  raised  by  skilful  twice-born  men, 
In  shape  and  figure  to  behold 
An  eagle  with  his  wings  of  gold, 
With  twice  nine  pits  and  formed  three-fold, 
Each  for  some  special  God,  beside 
The  pillars  were  the  victims  tied  ; 
The  birds  that  roam  the  wood,  the  air, 
The  water,  and  the  land  were  there, 
And  snakes  and  things  of  reptile  birth, 
And  healing  herbs  that  spring  from  earth ; 
As  texts  prescribe,  in  Scripture  found, 
Three  hundred  victims  there  were  bound. 
The  steed  devoted  to  the  host 
Of  Gods,  the  gem  they  honour  most, 
Was  duly  sprinkled.    Then  the  Queen 
Kausalya,  with  delighted  mien, 
With  reverent  steps  around  him  paced, 
And  with  sweet  wreaths  the  victim  graced; 
Then  with  three  swords  in  order  due 
She  smote  the  steed  with  joy,  and  slew. 
That  night  the  queen,  a  son  to  gain. 
With  calm  and  steady  heart  was  fain 
By  the  dead  charger's  side  to  stay 
From  evening  till  the  break  of  day. 
Then  came  three  priests,  their  care  to  lead 
The  other  queens  to  touch  the  steed, 
Upon  Kausalya  to  attend, 
Their  company  and  aid  to  lend. 
As  by  the  horse  she  still  reclined, 
With  happy  mien  and  oheerf  ul  mind, 
With  Rishyaaring  the  twice-born  came 
And  praised  and  blessed  the  royal  darne. 
The  priest  who  well  his  duty  knew, 
And  every  sense  could  well  subdue, 
From  out  the  bony  chambers  freed 
And  boiled  the  marrow  of  the  steed. 
Above  the  steam  the  monarch  bent, 
And,  as  he  smelt  the  fragrant  scent, 
In  time  and  order  drove  afar 
All  error  that  his  hopes  could  mar. 
Then  sixteen  priests  together  came 
And  cast  into  the  sacred  flame 
The  severed  members  of  the  horse, 
Made  ready  all  in  ordered  course. 
On  piles  of  holy  Fig-tree  raised 

1  The  Hindus  call  the  constellation  of 
Ursa  Major  the  Seven  Risius  or  Saiuts. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


The  meaner  victims'  bodies  blazed  : 
The  steed,  of  all  the  creatures  slaio, 
Alone  required  a  pile  of  cane. 
Three  days,  as  is  by  law  decreed, 
Lasted  that  Offering  of  the  Steed. 
The  Chatushtoni  began  the  rite, 
'And  when  the  sun  renewed  his  light, 
The  Ukthya  followed  :  after  came 
The  Atiratra's  l^ply  flame. 
These  were  the  rites,  and  many  more, 
Arranged  by  light  of  holy  lore, 
The  Aptoryam  of  mighty  power, 
And,  each  performed  in  proper  hour, 
The  Abhijit  and  Visvajit 
With  every  form  and  service  fit ; 
And  with  the  sacrifice  at  night 
The  Jyotishtom  and  Ay  us  rite.1 

1  A  minute  account  of  these  ancient 
ceremonies  would  be  out  of  place  here. 
'Agnishtoma  is  the  name  of  a  sacrifice, 
or  rather  a  series  of  offerings  to  fire  for 
:five  days.  It  is  the  first  and  principal 
part  of  the  Jyotishtcma,  one  of  the  great 
sacrifices  in  which  especially  the  juice  of 
the  Soma  plant  is  offered  for  the  purpose 
of  obtaining  Swarga  or  heaven.'  GOLD- 
STUCKER'S  DICTIONARY.  'The  Aguish- 
toma  is  Agni.  It  is  called  so  because  they 
(the  gods)  praised  him  with  this  Stoma. 
They  called  it  so  to  hide  the  proper  mean- 
ing of  the  word  ;  for  the  gods  like  to  hide 
the  proper  meaning  of  words.' 

'  On  account  of  four  classes  of  gods 
having  praised  Agni  with  four  Stomas, 
the  whole  was  called  Chahtushtoma  (con- 
taining four  Sttmas).' 
.  '  It  (the  Agnishtoma)  is  called  Jyotish- 
toma,  for  they  praised  Agni  when  he  had 
risen  up  (to  the  sky)  in  tne  shape  of  a 
Bght  (jyotis).' 

'  This  (Agnishtoma)  is  a  sacrificial  per- 
formance which  has  no  beginning  and 
no  end.'  HAUG'S  Aitareya  JJrdJimanam. 

-The  Atiratra,  literally  tasting  through 
•the  night,  is  a  division  of  the  service  'of 
the  Jyotishtom  a, 

The  Abhijit,  the  everywhere  victorious, 
is  the  name  of  a  sub-division  of  the  great 
sacrifice  of  the  Gavamanaya. 

The<.  Visvajit,  or  the  all- conquering,  is 
a  similar  sub-division, 

Ay  us,  is  the  name  of  a  service  forming 
a  division  of  the  Abhiplava  sacrifice. 

The  Aptoryam  is  the  seventh  or  last 
part  of  the  Jyotishtoma,  for  the  perform- 
ance of  which  it  is  not  essentially  neces- 
sary, but  a  voluntary  sacrifice  instituted 
for'the  attainment  of  a  specific  desire. 
The  literal  meaning  of  the  word  would 
be  in  •onf  ormity  with  the  Prmdhama- ' 


The  task  was  done,  as  laws  prescribe  : 
The  monarch,  glory  of  his  tribe, 
Bestowed  the  land  in  liberal  grants 
Upon  the  sacred  ministrants. 
Be  gave  the  region  of  the  east, 
His  conquest,  to  the  Hotri  priest. 
The  west,  the  celebrant  obtained  : 
The  south,  the  priest  presiding  gained  : 
The  northern  region  was  the  share 
Of  him  who  chanted  forth  the  prayer.1 
Thus  did  each  priest  obtain  his  meed 
At  the  great  Slaughter  of  the  Steed, 
Ordained,  the  best  of  all  to  be, 
By  self-existent  deity. 
Ikshvaku's  son  with  joyful  mind 
This  noble  fee  to  each  assigned, 
But  all  the  priests  with  one  accord 
Addressed  tnat  unpolluted  lord: 
*  'Tis  thine  alone  to  keep  the  whole 
Of  this  broad  earth  in  firm  control. 


noramd  'a  sacrifice  which  procures  the 
attainment  of  the  desired  object.  GOLD- 
STUCKER'S  DICTIONARY. 

'The  Ukthya  is  a  slight  modification  of 
the  Agnishtoma  sacrifice.  The  noun  to 
be  supplied  to  it  is  kratu.  It  is  a  Soma 
sacrifice  also,  and  one  of  the  seven  Sans- 
thas  or  component  parts  of  the  Jyotish- 
toma. Its  name  indicates  its  nature. 
For  Ukthya  means  "  what  refers  to  the 
Uktha,"  which  is  an  older  name  for 
Shastra,?'.  e.  recitation  of  one  of  the  Hotri 
priests  at  the  time  of  the  Soma  libations. 
Thus  this  sacrifice  is  only  a  kind  of  sup- 
plement to  the  Agnishtoma.'  HAUG. 
Ai.B. 

1  *  Four  classes  of  priests  were  required 
in  India  at  the  most  solemn  sacrifices, 
1.  The  officiating  priests,  manual  labour- 
ers, and  acolytes,  who  had  chiefly  to  pre- 
pare the  sacrificial  ground,  to  dress  the 
altar,  slay  the  victims,  and  pour  out  the 
libations.  2.  The  choristers,  who  chant 
the  sacred  hymns.  3.  The  reciters  or 
readers,  who  repeat  certain  hymns.  4. 
The  overseers  or  bishops,  who  watch  and 
superintend  the  proceedings  of  the  other 
priests,  and  ought  to  be  familiar  with  all 
the  Vedas.  The  formulas  and  verses  to 
be  muttered  by  the  first  class  are  contain- 
ed in  the  Yajur-veda-sanhita.  The  hymns 
to  be  sung  by  the  second  class  are  in  the 
Sama-veda-sanhita.  The  Atharva-veda 
is  said  to  be  intended  for  the  Brahman 
or  overseer,  who  is  to  watch  the  proceed- 
ings of  the  sacrifice,  and  to  remedy  any 
mistake  that  may  occur.  The  hymns  to 
be  recited  by  the  third  class  are  contained 
in  the  Kigveda,'  Chips  from  a  German 
Workshop. 


Canto  XIV. 


THE  RAM  AT  AN. 


25 


No  gift  of  lands  from  thee  we  seek  r 
To  guard  these  realms  our  hands  were  weak. 
On  sacred  lore  our  days  are  spent : 
Let  other  gifts  our  wants  content.' 
The  chief  of jold  Ikshvaku's  line 
Gave  them  ten  hundred  thousand  kine, 
A  hundred  millions  of  fine  gold, 
The  same  in  silver  four  times  told. 
But  every  priest  in  presence  there 
With  one  accord  resigned  his  share. 
To  Saint  Vasish^ha,  high  of  soul, 
And  Rishyasring  they  gave  the  whole, 
That  largess  pleased  those  Brahmans  well, 
Who  bade  the  prince  his  wishes  tell. 
Then  Dasaratha,  mighty  king. 
Made  answer  thus  to  Rishyasring  : 
*  O  holy  Hermit,  of  thy  grace, 
Vouchsafe  the  increase  of  my  race.' 
He  spoke  ;  nor  was  his  prayer  denied  : 
The  best  of  Brahmans  thus  replied  : 
*Four  sons,  O  Monarch,  shall  be  thine, 
Upholders  of  thy  royal  line.' 


CANTO  XIV. 


RAVA1J  DOOMED. 

The  saint,  well  read  in  holy  lore, 
Pondered  awhile  his  answer  o'er, 
And  thus  again  addressed  the  king, 
His  wandering  thoughts  regathering  : 
'  Another  rite  will  I  begin 
Which  shall  the  sons  thou  cravest  win, 
Where  all  things  shall  be  duly  sped 
And  first  Atharva  texts  be  read.' 

Then  by  Vibhandak's  gentle  son 
Was  that  high  sacrifice  begun, 
The  king's  advantage  seeking  still 
And  zealous  to  perform  his  will. 
Now  all  the  Gods  had  gathered  there, 
Each  one  for  his  allotted  share  : 
Brahma,  the  ruler  of  the  sky, 
Sthanu,  Narayan,  Lord  most  high, 
And  holy  Indra  men  might  view 
With  Maruts  '  for  his  retinue  ; 
The  heavenly  chorister,  and  saint, 
And  spirit  pure  from  earthly  taint, 
With  one  accord  had  sought  the  place 
The  high-souled  monarch's  rite  to  grace. 
Then  to  the  Gods  who  came  to  take 
Their  proper  share  the  hermit  spake  : 
'  For  you  has  Dasaratha  slain 
The  votive  steed,  a  son  to  gain  ; 
Stern  penance-rites  the  king  has  tried, 
And  in  firm  faith  on  you  relied, 

1  Th  3  Maruts  are  the  winds,  deified  in 
the  religion  of  the  Ve.da  like  other  mighty 
powers  and  phenomena  of  nature. 


And  now  with  un diminished  care 
A  second  rite  would  fain  prepare. 
But,  O  ye  Gods,  consent  to  grant 
The  longing  of  your  supplicant. 
For  him  beseeching  hands  I  lift, 
And  pray  you  all  to  grant  the  gift, 
That  four  fair  sons  of  high  renown 
The  offerings  of  the  king  may  crown,' 
They  to  the  hermit's  son  replied : 
*  His  longing  shall  be  gratified. 
For,  Brahman,  in  most  high  degree 
We  love  the  king  and  honour  thee.' 

These  words  the  Gods  in  answer  said, 
And  vanished  thence  by  Indra  led. 
Thus  to  the  Lord,  the  worlds  who  made, 
The  Immortals  all  assembled  prayed  : 
4  O  Brahma,  mighty  by  thy  grace, 
Ravan,  who  rules  the  giant  race, 
Torments  us  in  his  senseless  pride, 
And  penance-loving  saints  beside. 
For  thou  well  pleased  in  days  of  old 
Gavest  the  boon  that  makes  him  bold, 
That  God  nor  demon  e'er  should  kill 
His  charmed  life,  for  so  thy  will. 
We,  honouring  that  high  behest, 
Bear  all  his  rage  though  sore  distressed. 
That  lord  of  giants  fierce  and  fell 
Scourges  the  earth  and  heaven  and  hell. 
Mad  with  thy  boon,  his  impious  rage 
Smites  saint  and  bard  and  God  and  sage. 
The  sun  himself  withholds  his  glow, 
The  wind  in  fear  forbears  to  blow  ; 
The  fire  restrains  his  wonted  heat 
Where  stand  the  dreaded  Ravan's  feet, 
And,  necklaced  with  the  wandering  wave, 
The  sea  before  him  fears  to  rave. 
Kuvera's  self  in  sad  defeat 
Is  driven  from  his  blissful  seat, 
We  see,  we  feel  the  giant's  might, 
A^d  woe  comes  o'er  us  and  affright. 
To  thee,  O  Lord,  thy  suppliants  pray 
To  iind  some  cure  this  plague  to  stay.' 

Thus  by  the  gathered  Gods  addressed 
He  pondered  in  his  secret  breast, 
And  said  :  *  One  only  way  I  find 
To  slay  this  fiend  of  evil  mind. 
He  prayed  me  once  his  life  to  guard 
From  demon.  God,  and  heavenly  bard,     ' 
And  spirits  of  the  earth  and  air, 
And  I  consenting  heard  his  prayer. 
But  the  proud  giant  in  his  scorn 
Recked  not  of  man  of  woman  born. 
None  else  may  take  his  life  away, 
But  only  man  the  fiend  may  slay.' 
The  Gods,  with  Indra  at  their  head 
Rejoiced  to  hear  the  words  he  said.' 
Then,  crowned  with  glory  like  a  flame 
Lord  Vishnu  to  the  council  came  ; 
His  hands  shell,  mace,  and  discus  bore  *• 
And  saffron  were  the  robes  he  wore. 


THE  RAMA  TAN. 


Book  1. 


Biding  hi§  eagle  through  the  crowd, 
As  the  sun  rides  upon  a  cloud, 
With  bracelets  of  fine  gold,  he  came 
Loud  welcomed  by  the  Gods'  acclaim, 
His  praise  they  sang  with  one  consent, 
And  cried,  in  lowly  reverence  bent: 
'O  Lord  whose  hand  fierce  Madhu1  slew, 
Be  thou  our  refuge,  firm  and  true  ; 
Friend  of  the  suffering  worlds  art  thou, 
We  pray  thee  help  thy  suppliants  now.' 
Then  Vishnu  spake  :  '  Ye  Gods,  declare, 
What  may  I  do  to  grant  your  prayer  ? ' 

'King  Dasaratha,'  thus  cried  they, 
'Fervent  in  penance  many  a  day, 
The  sacrificial  steed  has  slain, 
Longing  for  sons,  but  all  in  vain. 
Now,  at  the  cry  of  us  forlorn, 
Incarnate  as  his  seed  be  born. 
Three  queens  has  he:  each  lovely  dame 
Like  Beauty,  Modesty,  or  Fame. 
Divide  thyself  in  four,  and  be 
His  offspring  by  these  noble  three. 
Man's  nature  take,  and  slay  in  fight 
Bavan  who  laughs  at  heavenly  might : 
This  common  scourge,  this  rankling  thorn 
Whom  the  three  worlds  too  long  have  borne. 
For  Ravan  in  the  senseless  pride 
Of  might  unequalled  has  defied 
The  host  of  heaven,  and  plagues  with  woe 
Angel  and  bard  and  saint  below, 
Crushing  each  spirit  and  each  maid 
Who  plays  in  Nandan's2  heavenly  shade. 
O  conquering  Lord,  to  thee  we  bow  ; 
Our  surest  hope  and  trust  art  thou. 
Regard  the  world  of  men  below, 
And  slay  the  Gods'  tremendous  foe.' 

When  thus  the  suppliant  Gods  had  prayed, 
His  wise  reply  Nar£yan3  made  : 
'  What  task  demands  my  presence  there, 
And  whence  this  dread,  ye  Gods  declare.' 

The  Gods  replied  :  *  We  fear,  O  Lord, 
Fierce  Kavan,  ravener  abhorred. 
Be  thine  the  glorious  task,  we  pray, 
lu  human  form  this  fiend  to  slay. 
By  thee  of  all  the  Blest  alone 
This  sinner  may  be  overthrown. 
He  gained  by  penance  long  and  dire 
The  favour  of  the  mighty  Sire. 
Then  He  who  every  gift  bestows 


Guarded  the  fiend  from  heavenly  foes, 
And  gave  a  pledge  his  life  that  kept 
From  all  things  living,  man  except. 
On  him  thus  armed  no  other  foe 
Thau  man  may  deal  the  deadly  blow. 
Assume,  O  King,  a  mortal  birth, 
And  strike  the  demon  to  the  earth.' 

Then  Vishnu,  God  of  Gods,  the  Lord 
Supreme  by  ail  the  worlds  adored, 
To  Brahma  and  the  suppliants  spake  : 
*  Dismiss  your  fear:  for  your  dear   sake 
In  battle  will  I  smite  him  dead, 
The  cruel  fiend,  the  Immortal's  dread, 
And  lords  and  ministers  and  all 
His  kith  and  kin  with  him  shall  fall. 
Then,  in  the  world  of  mortal  men, 
Ten  thousand  years  and  hundreds  ten 
I  as  a  human  king  will  reign, 
And  guard  the  earth  as  my  domain.' 

God,  saint,  and  nymph,  and  ministrel 

throng 

With  heavenly  voices  raised  their  song 
In  hymns  of  triumph  to  the  God 
Whose  conquering  feet  on  Madhu  trod  : 

'Champion  of  Gods,  as  man  appear, 
This  cruel  Ravan  slay, 

The  thorn  that  saints  and  hermits  fear, 
The  plague  that  none  can  stay. 

In  savage  fury  uncontrolled 
His  pride  for  ever  grows  : 

He  dares  the  Lord  of  Gods  to  hold 
Among  his  deadly  foes.' 

CANTO  XV. 


1  A  Titan  or  fiend  whose  destruction 
has  given  Vishnu  one  of  his  well-known 
titles,  Madhava. 

2  The  garden  of  Indra. 

3  One  of  the  most  ancient  and  popular 
*)f  the  numerous  names  of  Vishnu.    The 
word  has  been  derived  in  several  ways, 
and  may  mean  he  who  moved  on  tke  (pri- 
mordial) waters,  or  h^  who  pervades  or 
influences  men  or  their  thoughts, 


THE  NECTAR. 

When  wisest  Vishnu  thus  had  given 
His  promise  to  the* Gods  of  heaven, 
He  pondered  in  his  secret  mind 
A  suited  place  of  birth  to  find. 
Then  he  decreed,  the  lotus-eyed, 
In  four  his  being  to  divide, 
And  Dasaratha,  gracious  king, 
He  chose  as  sire  from  whom  to  spring, 
That  childless  prince  of  high  renown, 
Who  smote  in  war  his  foemen  down, 
At  that  same  time  with  utmost  care 
Prepared  the  rite  that  wins  an  heir.1 
Then  Vishnu,  fain  on  earth  to  dwell, 
Bade  the  Almighty  Sire  farewell, 
And  vanished  while  a  reverent  crowd 
Of  Gods  and  saints  in  worship  bowed. 

The  monarch  watched  the  sacred  rite, 
When  a  vast  form  of  awful  might, 
Of  matcless  splendour,  strength,  and  size. 
Was  manifest  before  his  eyes. 

1  The  Horse-Saorifioe,  just  described. 


Canto  XVI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


27 


From  forth  the  sacrificial  flame, 
Dark,  robed  in  red,  the  being  came. 
His  voice  was  drumlike,  loud  and  low, 
His  face  suffused  with  rosy  glow. 
Like  a  huge  lion's  mane  appeared 
The  long  locks  of  his  hair  and  beard. 
He  shone  with  many  a  luckv  sign, 
And  many  an  ornament  divine ; 
A  towering  mountain  in  his  height, 
A  tiger  in  his  gait  and  might. 
No  precious  mine  more  rich  could  he, 
No  burning  flame  more  bright  than  he. 
His  arms  embraced  in  loving  hold, 
Like  a  dear  wife,  a  vase  of  gold 
Whose  silver  lining  held  a  draught 
Of  nectar  as  in  heaven  is  quaffed  : 
A  vase  so  vast,  so  bright  to  view, 
They  scarce  could  count  the  vision  true. 
Upon  the  king  his  eyes  he  bent, 
And  said  :  *  The  Lord  of  life  has  sent 
His  servant  down,  O  Prince,  to  be 
A  messenger  from  heaven  to  thee.' 
The  king  with  all  fcis  nobles  by 
Baised  reverent  hands  and  made  reply  : 
1  Welcome,  0  glorious  being  !  Say 
How  can  my  care  thy  grace  repay.' 
Envoy  of  Him  whom  all  adore 
Thus  to  the  king  he  spake  once  more  ; 
4  The  Gods  accept  thy  worship :  they 
Give  thee  the  blessed  fruit  to-day. 
Approach  and  take.  O  glorious  King, 
This  heavenly  nectar  which  I  bring, 
For  it  shall  give  thee  sons  and  wealth, 
And  bless  thee  with  a  store  of  health. 
Give  it  to  those  fair  queens  of  thine, 
And  bid  them  quaff  the  drink  divine  ; 
And  they  the  princely  sons  shall  bear 
Long  sought  by  sac ri lice  and  prayer.' 

4  Yea,  0  my  lord,'  the  monarch  said, 
And  took  the  vase  upon  his  head, 
The  gift  of  Gods,  of  tine  gold  wrought, 
With  store  of  heavenly  liquor  fraught, 
He  honoured,  filled  with  transport  new, 
That  wondrous  being,  fair  to  view, 
As  round  the  envoy  of  the  God 
With  reverential  steps  he  trod.1 


1  To  walk  round  an  object  keeping  the 
right  side  towards  it  is  a  mark  of  great 
respect.  The  Sanskrit  word  for  the  observ- 
ance is  pradakthind,  from  pra  pro,  and 
daksha  right,  Greek  Sg£foe,  Latin  dex- 
ter, Gaelic  deas-il.  A  similar  ceremony  ig 
observed  by  the  Gaels. 

'  In  the  meantime  she  traced  around 
him,  with  wavering  steps,  the  propitiation, 
^hich  some  have  thought  has  been  deriv- 
ed from  the  Druidical  mythology.  It  con- 
sists, as  ia  well  known,  in  the  person  who 
makes  the  deasil  walking  three  times 
round  the  person  who  is  the  object  of  the 


His  errand  done,  that  form  of  light 
Arose  and  vanished  from  the  sight. 
High  rapture  rilled  the  monarch's  soul, 
Possessed  of  that  celestial  bowl, 
As  when  a  man  by  want  distressed 
With  unexpected  wealth  is  blest. 
And  rays  of  transport  seemed  to  fall 
Illuminating  bower  and  hall, 
As  when  the  autumn  moon  rides  high, 
And  floods  with  lovely  light  the  sky. 
Quick  to  the  ladies'  bower  he  sped, 
And  thus  to  Queen  Rausaly£  said  : 
*  This  genial  nectar  take  and  quaff/ 
He  spoke,  and  gave  the  lady  half. 
Part  of  the  nectar  that  remained 
Sumitra  from  his  hand  obtained. 
He  gave,  to  make  her  fruitful  too, 
Kaikevi  half  the  residue. 
A  portion  yet  remaining  there, 

He  paused  awhile  to  think. 
Then  gave  Sumitr£,  with  her  share, 

The  remnant  of  the  drink. 
Thus  on  each  queen  of  those  fair  three 

A  part  the  king  bestowed, 
And  with  sweet  hope  a  child  to  see 

Their  yearning  bosoms  glowed. 
The  heavenly  bowl  the  king  supplied 

Their  longing  souls  relieved, 
And  soon,  with  rapture  and  with  pride, 

Each  royal  dame  conceived. 
He  gazed  upon  each  lady's  face, 

And  triumphed  as  he  gazed, 
As  Indra  in  his  royal  place 

By  Gods  and  spirits  praised. 

CANTO  XVI. 


THE  VANARS. 

When  Visnnu  thus  had  gone  on  earth, 
From  the  great  king  to  take  his  birth, 
The  self -existent  Lord  of  all 
Addressed  the  Gods  who  heard  his  call : 
'  For  Vishnu's  sake,  the  strong  and  true, 
Who  seeks  the  gcod  of  all  of  you, 
Make  helps,  in  war  to  lend  him  aid, 
In  forms  that  change  at  will,  arrayed, 
Of  wizard  skill  and  hero  might, 
Outstrippers  of  the  wind  in  flight, 
Skilled  in  the  arts  of  counsel;  wise, 
And  Vishnu's  peers  in  bold  emprise  ; 
With  heavenly  arts  and  prudence  fraught, 
By  no  devices  to  be  caught ; 
Skilled  in  all  weapon's  lore  and  use 
As  they  who  drink  the  immortal  juice.1 

ceremony,  taking  care  to  move  according 
to  the  course  of  the  sun.' 

SCOTT.  The  Two  Drovers. 
1  The  Amritj  the  nectar  of  the  Indian 
Gods, 


2S  THE  RAM  AY  AN. 

And  let  the  nymphs  supreme  in  grace, 
And  maidens  of  the  minstrel  race, 
Monkeys  and  snakes,  and  those  who  rove 
Free  spirits  of  the  hill  and  grove, 
And  wandering  Daughters  of  the  Air, 
In  monkey  form  brave  children  bear. 
So  erst  the  lord  of  bears  I  shaped, 
Born  from  my  mouth  as  wide  I  gaped.' 

Thus  by  the  mighty  Sire  addressed 
They  all  obeyed  his  high  behest, 
And  thus  begot  in  countless  swarms 
Brave  sons  disguised  in  sylvan  forms. 
Each  God,  each  sage  became  a  sire, 
Each  minstrel  of  the  heavenly  quire,1 
Each  faun,2  of  children  strong  and  good 
Whose  feet  should  roam  the  hill  and  wood. 
Snakes,  bards,3  and  spirits,4  serpents  bold 
Had  sons  too  numerous  to  be  told. 
B&li,  the  woodland  hosts  who  led, 
High  as  Mahendra's5  lofty  head, 
Was  Indra's  child.    That  noblest  fire, 
The  Sun,  was  great  Sugriva's  sire. 
Tara,  the  mighty  monkey,  he 
Was  offspring  of  Vrihaspati  :6 
Tara  the  matchless  chieftain,  boast 
For  wisdom  of  the  Vanar  host. 
Of  Gandhamadan  brave  and  bold 
The  father  was  the  Lord  of  Gold. 
Nala  the  mighty,  dear  to  fame, 
Of  skilful  Visvakarma7  came. 
From  Agni,8  Nila  bright  as  flame, 
Who  in  his  splendour,  might,  and  worth, 
Surpassed  the  sire  who  gave  him  birth. 


Boole  I. 


1  Gandharvas  (Southey's  Glendoveers) 
are  celestial  musicians  inhabiting  Indra's 
heaven  and  forming  the  orchestra  at  all 
the  banquets  of  the  principal  deities, 

*  Yakshas,  demigods  attendant  especial- 
ly on  Kuvera,  and  employed  by  him  in  the 
care  of  his  garden  arid  treasures. 

3  Kimpnrnshas,  demigods  attached  also 
to  the  service  of  Kuvera,  celestial  musici- 
ans,  represented   like  centaurs    reversed 
with  human  figures  and  horses'  heads. 

4  Siddhas,  demigods  or  spirits  of  undefin- 
ed attributes,  occupying  with  the  Vidyd- 
dJiaras  the  middle  air  or  region  between 
the  earth  and  the  sun. 

Schlegel  translates :  *  Divi,  Sapientes, 
Fidicines,  Praepetes,  illustres  Genii,  Pr*e- 
eonesque  procrearunt  natos,  masculos,  sil- 
vicolas  ;  angues  porro,  Hippocephali  Beati, 
Aligeri,  Serpentesque  frequentes  alacriter 
generavere  prolem  innumerabilem.' 

5  A  mountain  in  the  south  of  India. 

6  The  preceptor  of  the  Gods  and  regent 
of  the  planet  Jupiter. 

7  The   celestial   architect,   the    Indian 
Hephaestus,  Mulciber,  or  Vulcan. 

»  The  God  of  Fire, 


The  heavonly  Asvlns,1  swift  and  fair, 
Were  fathers  of  a  noble  pair, 
Who,  Dwivida  and  Mainda  named, 
For  beauty  like  their  sires  were  famed. 
Varun"  was  father  of  Sushen, 
Of  Sarabh,  he  who  sends  the  rain,3 
Hanuman,  best  of  monkey  kind, 
Was  son  of  him  who  breathes  the  wind  : 
Like  thunderbolt  in  frame  was  he, 
And  swift  as  Garud's4  self  could  flee. 
These  thousands  did  the  Gods  create 
Endowed  with  might  that  none  could  mate, 
In  monkey  forms  that  changed  at  will ; 
So  strong  their  wish  the  fiend  to  kill. 
In  mountain  size,  like  lions  the  wed, 
Up  sprang  the  wondrous  multitude, 
Auxiliar  hosts  in  every  shape, 
Monkey  and  bear  and  highland  ape. 
In  each  the  strength,  the  might,  the  mien 
Of  his  own  parent  God  were  seen. 
Some  chiefs  of  Vanar  mothers  came, 
Some  of  she-bear  and  minstrel  dame, 
Skilled  in  all  arms  in  battle's  shock  ; 
The  brandished  tree,  the  loosened  rock ; 
And  prompt,  should  other  weapons  fail, 
To  fight  and  slay  with  tooth  and  nail. 
Their  strength  could  shake  the  hills  amain, 
And  rend  the  rooted  trees  in  twain, 
Disturb  with  their  impetuous  sweep 
The  Kivers'  Lord,  the  Ocean  deep, 
Rend  with  their  feet  the  seated  ground, 
And  pass  wide  floods  with  airy  bound, 
Or  forcing  through  the  sky  their  way 
The  very  clouds  by  force  could  stay. 
Mad  elephants  that  wander  through 
The  forest  wilds,  could  they  subdue, 
And  with  their  furious  shout  could  scare 
Dead  upon  earth  the  birds  of  air. 
So  were  the  sylvan  chieftains  formed  ; 
Thousands  on  thousands  still  they  swarmed. 
These  were  the  leaders  honoured  most, 
The  captains  of  the  Vanar  host, 
And  to  each  lord  and  chief  and  guide 
Was  monkey  offspring  born  beside. 
Then  by  the  bears'  great  monarch  stood 
The  other  roamers  of  the  wood, 

1  Twin  children  of  the  Sun,  the  physici- 
ans of  Swarga  or  Indra's  heaven. 
*  The  deity  of  the  waters. 

3  Parjanya,  sometimes  confounded  with 
Indra. 

4  The  bird  and  vehicle  of  Visnu.    He  is 
generally  represented  as  a  being  something 
between  a  man  and  a  bird  and  considered 
as  the   sovereign  of  the  feathered   race. 
He  may  be  compared  with  the  Simurgh 
of  the  Persians,  the  'Auka  of  the  Arabs, 
the  Griffin  of  chivalry,  the   Phcenix  of 
Egypt,  and  the  bird  that  sits  upon  the  aah 
Yggdraail  of  the  Edda, 


Canto  XVII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AX. 


29 


And  turned,  their  pathless  homes  to  seek, 
To  forest  and  to  mountain  peak. 
Tae  leaders  of  the  monkey  band 
By  the  two  brothers  took  their  stand, 
Sugriva,  offspring  of  the  Sun, 
And  Bali,  Indra's  might}'  one. 
They  both  endowed  with  Garud's  might, 
And  sky  led  in  all  the  arts  of  fight, 
Wandered  in  arms  the  forest  through, 
And  lions,  snakes,  and  tigers,  slew. 
But  every  monkey,  ape,  and  bear 
Ever  was  Bali's  special  care  ; 
With  his  vast  strength  and  mighty  arm 
He  kept  them  from  all  scathe  and  harm. 
And  so  the  earth  with  hill,  wood,  seas, 
Was  filled  with  mighty  ones  like  these, 
Of  various  shape  and  race  and  kind, 
With  proper  homes  to  each  assigned, 
With  Kama's  champions  fierce  and  strong 

The  earth  was  overspread, 
High  as  the  hills  and  clouds,  a  throng 

With  bodies  vast  and  dread.1 


CANTO  XVII. 


RISHYAgRING'S  RETURN. 

Now  when  the  high-souled  monarch's  rite, 

The  Asvamedh,  was  finished  quite, 

Their  sacrificial  dues  obtained, 

The  Gods  their  heavenly  homes  regained. 

The  lofty-minded  saints  withdrew, 

Each  to  his  place,  with  honour  due, 

And  kings  and  chieftains,  one  and  all, 

Who  came  to  grace  the  festival. 

And  Dasaratha,  ere  they  went, 

Addressed  them  thus  benevolent : 

*  Now  may  you,  each  with  joyful  heart, 

To  your  own  realms,  O  Kings,  depart. 

Peace  and  good  luck  attend  you  there, 

And  blessing,  is  my  friendly  prayer  ; 

Let  cares  of  state  each  mind  engage 

To  guard  his  royal  heritage, 

A  monarch  from  his  throne  expelled 

No  better  than  the  dead  is  held. 

1  This  Canto  will  appear  ridiculous  to 
the  European  reader.  But  it  should  be 
remembered  that  the  monkeys  of  an 
Indian  forest,  the  '  bough-deer'  as  the 
poets  call  them,  are  very  different  animals 
from  the  'turpissima  bestia'  that  accom- 
panies the  itinerant  organ-grinder  or  grins 
in  the  Zoological  Gardens  of  London. 
Milton  has  made  his  hero,  Satan,  assume 
the  forms  of  a  cormorant,  a  toad,  and  a 
serpent,  and  I  cannot  see  that  this  creation 
of  sen',  i-di  vine  Vanars,  or  monkeys,  is 
more  ridiculous  or  undignified, 


So  he  who  cares  'for  power  and  might 
Mast  guard  his  realm  and  royal  right. 
Such  care  a  meed  in  heaven  will  bring 
Better  than  rites  and  offering. 
Such  care  a  king  his  country  owes 
As  man  upon  himself  bestows, 
When  for  his  body  he  provides 
Raiment  and  every  need  besides. 
For  future  days  should  kings  foresee, 
And  keep  the  present  error-free.' 

Thus  did  the  king  the  kings  exhort  : 
They  heard,and  turned  them  from  the  aourt, 
And,  each  to  each  in  friendship  bound, 
Went  forth  to  all  the  realms  around. 
The  rites  were  o'er,  the  guests  were  sped : 
The  train  the  best  of  Brahmans  led, 
In  which  the  king  with  joyful  soul, 
With  his  dear  wives, *and  with  the  whole 
Of  his  imperial  host  and  train 
O£  cars  and  servants  turned  again, 
And.  as  a  monarch  dear  to  fame, 
Within  his  royal  city  came. 

Next,  Rishyasring.  well-honoured  sage, 
And  Santa,  sought  their  hermitage. 
The  king  himself,  of  prudent  mind, 
Attended  him,  with  troops  behind. 
And  all  her  men  the  town  outpoured 
With  Saint  Vasishtha  and  their  lord. 
High  mounted  on  a  car  of  state, 
O'ercanopied  fair  &anta  sate, 
Drawn  by  white  oxen,  while  a  band 
Of  servants  marched  on  either  hand. 
Great  gifts  of  countless  price  she  bore, 
VVith  sheep  and  goats  and  gems  in  sfeore. 
Like  Beauty's  self  the  lady  shone 
With  all  the  jewels  she  had  on, 
As,  happy  in  her  sweet  content, 
Peerless  amid  the  fair  she  went. 
Not  Queen  Paulomi's1  self  c  mid  be 
More  loving  to  her  lord  than  she. 
She  who  had  lived  in  happy  ea^e, 
Honoured  with  all  her  heart  c:>uld  please,  , 
While  dames  and  kinsfolk  ever  vied 
To  see  her  wishes  gratified, 
Soon  as  she  knew  her  husband's  will 
Again  to  seek  the  forest,  still 
Was  ready  for  the  hermit's  cot, 
Nor  murmured  at  her  altered  lot. 
The  king  attended  to  the  wild 
That  hermit  and  his  own  dear  child, 
And  in  the  centre  of  a  throng 
Of  noble  courtiers  rode  along. 
The  sage's  son  had  let  prepare 
A  lodge  within  the  wood,  and  there 
While  they  lingered  blithe  and  gay, 
Then,  duly  honoured,  went  their  way. 
The  glorious  hermit  Bishyasriug 
Drew  near  and  thus  besought  the  king  : 

l  Tke    consort  of   Indra,    called  also 
Sachi  and  Indrani. 


THE  RAMATAN. 


JBook  I 


*  Return,  my  honoured  lord,  I  pray, 
Return,  upon  thy  homeward  way.' 
The  monarch,  with  the  waiting  crowd, 
Lifted  his  voice  and  wept  aloud, 
And  with  eyes  dripping  Ktill  to  each 
Of  his  good  queens  he  spake  this  speech  : 

'  Kausalya  and  Sumitra  dear, 
And  thou.  my  sweet  Kaikeyi.  hear. 
All  upon  >3anta  feast  your  gaze, 
The  last  time  for  a  length  of  days,' 
To  Santa's  arms  the  ladies  leapt, 
And  hung  about  her  neck  and  wept, 
And  cried,  *  0.  happy  be  the  life 
Of  this  great  Brahman  and  his  wife. 
The  Wind,  the  Fire,  the  Moon  on  high, 
The  Earth,  the  Streams,  the  circling  Sky, 
Preserve  thee  in  the  wood,  true  spouse, 
Devoted  to  thy  husband's  vows. 
And  O  dear  iSa'nta,  ne'er  neglect 
To  pay  the  dues  of  meek  respect 
To  the  great  saint,  thy  husband's  sire, 
With  all  observance  and  with  fire. 
And,  sweet  one,  pure  of  spot  and  blame, 
Forget  not  thou  thy  husband's  claim  ; 
In  every  change,  in  good  and  ill, 
Let  thy  sweet  words  delight  him  still, 
And  let  thy  worship  constant  be  : 
Her  lord  is  woman's  deity. 
To  learn  thy  welfare,  dearest  friend, 
The  king  will  many  a  Brahman  send. 
Let  happy  thoughts  thy  spirit  cheer. 
And  be  not  troubled,  daughter  dear.' 

These  soothing  words  the  ladies  said. 
And  pressed  their  lips  upon  her  head. 
Kach  gave  with  sighs  her  last  adieu, 
Then  at  the  king's  command  withdrew. 
The  king  around  the  hermit  went 
With  circling  footsteps  reverent, 
And  placed  at  Rishyasring's  command 
Some  soldiers  of  his  royal  band. 
The  Brahman  bowed  in  turn  and  cried, 
•M  ay  fortune  never  leave  thy  side. 
O  mighty  King,  with  justice  reign, 
And  still  thy  people's  love  retain.' 
He  spoke,  and  turned  away  his  face, 

And,  as  the  hermit  went. 
The  monarch,  rooted  to  the  place, 

Pursued  with  eyes  intent. 
But  when  the  sage  had  past  from  view 
King  Dasaratha  turned  him  too, 
Still  fixing  on  his  friend  each  thought, 
With  such  deep  love  his  breast  was  fraught. 
Amid  his  people's  loud  acclaim 
Home  to  his  royal  seat  he  came, 

And  lived  delighted  there, 
Expecting  when  each  queenly  dame, 
Upholder  of  his  ancient  fame, 

Her  promised  son  should  bear. 
The  glorious  sage  his  way  pursued 
Till  close  before  his  eyes  he  viewed 


Sweet  Champa,  Lomapad's  fair  town, 
Wreathed  with  her  (Jhampacs'1  leafy  crown. 
Soon  as  the  saint's  approach  he  knew, 
'J  he  king,  to  yield  him  honour  due. 
Went  forth  to  meet  him  with  a  band 
Of  priests  and  nobles  of  the  land  : 
'  Hail,  Sage,'  he  cried,  *  O  joy  to  me  f 
What  bliss  it  is,  my  lord,  to  see 
Thee  with  thy  wife  and  all  thy  train 
Returning  to  my  town  again. 
Thy  father,  honoured  Sage,  is  well, 
Who  hither  from  his  woodland  cell 
Has  sent  full  many  a  messenger 
For  tidings  both  of  thee  and  her.' 
Then  joyfully,  for  due  respect, 
The  monarch  bade  the  town  be  decked. 
The  king  and  Rishyasring  elate 
Entered  the  royal  city's  gate  : 

In  front  the  chaplain  rode. 
Then,  loved  and  honoured  with  all  care 
By  monarch  and  by  courtier,  there 

The  glorious  saint  abode. 

CANTO  XVIII. 


RISHYAgRING'S  DEPARTURE. 

The  monarch  called  a  Brahman  near 

And  said,  'Now  speed  away 
To  Kasyap's  son.3  the  mighty  seer, 

And  with  all  reverence  say 
The  holy  child  he  holds  so  dear, 
The  hermit  of  the  noble  mind, 
Whose  equal  it  were  hard  to  find, 

Returned,  is  dwelling  here. 
Go,  and  instead  of  me  do  thou 
Before  that  best  of  hermits  bow, 
That  still  he  may,  for  his  dear  son, 
Show  me  the  favour  I  have  won.' 
Soon  as  the  king  these  words  had  said, 
To  Kasyap's  son  the  Brahman  sped. 
Before  the  hermit  low  he  bent 
And  did  obeisance,  reverent ; 
Then  with  meek  words  his  grace  to  crave 
The  message  of  his  lord  he  gave  : 
4  The  high-souled  father  of  his  bride 
Had  called  thy  son  his  rites  to  guide  : 
Those  rites  are  o'er,  the  steed  is  slain  ; 
Thy  noble  child  is  come  again.' 

Soon  as  the  saint  that  speech  had  heard 
His  spirit  with  desire  was  stirred 
To  seek  the  city  of  the  king 
And  to  his  cot  his  son  to  bring. 

1  The  Michelia  champaca.    It  bears  a 
scented  yellow  blossom  : 
•  The  maid  of  India  blest  again  to  hold 
In  her  full  lap  theChampac's  leaves  of  gold.' 
Lallah  Rookk. 

*  Vibhandak,  the  father  of  Kish)  aaring. 


Canto  XIX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


SI 


With  young  disciples  at  his  side 
Forth  on  his  way  the  hermit  hied, 
While  peasants  from  their  hamlets  ran 
To  reverence  the  holy  man. 
Each  with  his  little  gift  of  food, 
Forth  came  the  village  multitude, 
And,  as  they  humbly  bowed  the  head, 
4  What  may  we  do  for  thee  ? '  they  said. 
Then  he,  of  Brahmans  first  and  best, 
The  gathered  people  thus  addressed : 

*  Now  tell  me  for  I  fain  would  know, 
Why  is  it  I  am  honoured  so  ? ' 

They  to  the  high-souled  saint  replied: 

*  Our  ruler  is  with  thee  allied. 
Our  master's  order  we  fulfil  ; 

O  Brahman,  let  thy  mind  be  still.' 

With  joy  the  saintly  hermit  heard 
Each  pleasant  and  delightful  word, 
And  poured  a  benediction  down 
On  king  and  ministers  and  town. 
Glad  at  the  words  of  that  high  saint 
Some  servants  hastened  to  acquaint 
Their  king,  rejoicing  to  impart 
The  tidings  that  would  cheer  his  heart. 
Soon  as  the  joyful  tale  he  knew 
To  meet  the  saint  the  monarch  flew, 
The  guest-gift  in  his  hand  he  brought, 
And  bowed  before  him  and  besought : 

*  This  day  by  seeing  thee  I  gain 
Not  to  have  lived  my  life  in  vain, 
Now  be  not  wroth  w'ith  me,  I  pray, 
Because  I  wiled  thy  son  away/1 

The  best  of  Brahmans  answer  made : 

*  Be  not.  great  lord  of  kings,  afraid. 
Thy  virtues  have  not  failed  to  win 
My  favour,  O  thou  pure  of  sin.1 
Then  in  the  front  the  saint  was  placed, 
The  king  came  next  in  joyous  haste, 
And  with  him  entered  his  abode, 
Mid  glad  acclaim  as  on  they  rode. 

To  greet  the  sage  the  reverent  crowd 
Raised  suppliant  hands  and  humbly  bowed. 
Then  from  the  palace  many  a  dame 
Following  well-dressed  3anta  came, 
Stood  by  the  mighty  saint  and  cried  :  ^ 

*  See,  honour's  source,  thy  son's  dear  bride,' 
The  saint,  who  every  virtue  knew, 

His  arms  around  his  daughter  threw, 
And  with  a  father's  rapture  pressed 
The  lady  to  his  wondering  breast. 
Arising  from  the  saint's  embrace 
She  bowed  her  low  before  his  face, 
And  then,  with  palm  to  palm  applied, 
Stood  by  her  hermit  father's  side. 
He  for  his  son,  as  laws  ordain, 
Performed  the  rite  that  frees  from  stain, a 

1  A  hemisloka  is  wanting  in  Schlegel's 
text,  which  he  thus  fills  up  in  his  Latin 
translation. 

*  Rishyasring,  a  Br&hiuaii,  had  married 


And,  honoured  by  the  wise  and  gcod, 
With  him  departed  to  the  wood. 

CANTO  XIX. 


THE  BIRTH  OF  THE  PRINCES. 

The  seasons  six  in  rapid  flight 

Had  circled  since  that  glorious  rite. 

Eleven  months  had  passed  away  : 

'Twas  Chaitra's  ninth  returning  day.1 

The  moon  within  that  mansion  shone 

Which  Aditi  looks  kindly  on. 

Raised  to  their  apex  in  the  sky 

Five  brilliant  planets  beamed  on  high. 

Shone  with  the  moon,  in  Cancer's  sign, 

Vrihaspati*  with  light  divine. 

Kausalya  bore  an  infant  blest 

With  heavenly  marks  of  grace  impressed; 

Kama,  the  universe's  lord, 

A  prince  by  all  the  worlds  adored. 

New  glory  Queen  Kausalv£  won 

Reflected  from  her  splendid  son. 

So  Aditi  shone  more  and  more, 

The  Mother  of  the  Gods,  when  she 

The  King  of  the  Immortals3  bore, 

The  thunder-wielding  deity. 


£anta  who  was  of  the  Kshatriya  or  War- 
rior caste  and  an  expiatory  ceremony  was 
necessary  on  account  of  this  violation  of 
the  law. 

1  *  The  poet  no  doubt  intended  to  indi- 
cate the  vernal  equinox  as  the  birthday  of 
Rama.    For  the  month   Chaitra  is  the 
first  of  the  two  months   assigned  to  the 
spring ;    it    corresponds    with   the  latter 
half  of    March   and   the  former  half  of 
April  in  our  division  of  the  year,    Aditi, 
the  mother  of  the  Gods,  is  lady  of  the 
seventh  lunar  mansion   which   is  called 
Pwnarvasu.    The  rive  planets  and  their 
positions  in  the  Zodiac  are  thus  enumer- 
ated   by   both    commentators :    the  Sun 
in  Aries,   Mars  in  Capricorn,  Saturn  in 
Libra,  Jupiter  in  Cancer,  Venus  in  Pisces. 

I  leave  to  astronomers  to  examine 

whether  the  parts  of  the  description  agree 
with  one  another,  and,  if  this  be  the  case, 
thence  to  deduce  the   date.    The  Indians 
place  the  nativity  of  Rama  in  the  confines 
of  thejsecond  age  (treta)  and   the  third 
(dwapara) :  but  it  seems  that  this  should 

be  taken  in  an  allegorical  sense 

We  may  consider  that  the  poet  had  an 
eye   to  the  time   in  which,  immediately 
before  his  own   age,  the   aspects  of    the 
heavenly    bodies  were    such    as  he  has 
described.'    SCHLEGEL. 

2  The  regent  of  the  planet  Jupiter. 

3  Indra= Jupiter  Tonaos. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  b 


The  lotus-eyed,  the  beauteous  boy, 
He  came  tierce  Ravan  to  destroy  ; 
From  half  of  Vishnu's  vigour  born, 
He  came  to  help  the  worlds  forlorn. 
And  Queen  Kaikeyi  bore  a  child 
Of  truest  valour,  Bharat  styled, 
With  every  princely  virtue  blest, 
One  fourth  of  Vishnu  manifest. 
Suniitra  too  a  noble  pair, 
Called  Lakshman  and  ^atrughna,  bare, 
Of  high  emprise*  devoted,  true, 
Sharers  in  Vishnu's  essence  too. 
'Neath  Pushya's"1  mansion,  Mina's2  sign, 
Was  Bharat  born,  of  soul  benign. 
The  sun  had  reached  the  Crab  at  morn 
When  Queen  Suinitra's  babes  were  born, 
What  time  the  moon  had  gone  to  make 
His  nightly  dwelling  with  the  Snake. 
The  high-souled  monarch's  consorts  bore 
At  different  times  those  glorious  four, 
Like  to  himself  and  virtuous,  bright 
As  Proshthapada's3  four-fold  light. 
Then  danced  the  nymphs'  celestial  throng, 

The  minstrels  raised  their  strain  ; 
The  drums  of  heaven  pealed  loud  and  long, 

And  flowers  came  clown  in  rain. 
Within  Ayodhya,  blithe  and  gay, 
All  kept  the  joyous  holiday. 
The  spacious  square,  the  ample  road 
With  mimes  and  dancers  overflowed, 
And  with  the  voice  of  music  rang 
Where  minstrels  played  and  singers  sang, 
And  shone,  a  wonder  to  behold, 
With  dazzling  show  of  gems  and  gold, 
Nor  did  the  king  his  largess  spare, 
For  minstrel,  driver,  bard,  to  share  ; 
Much  wealth  th«  Brahmans  bore  away, 
And  many  thousand  kine  that  day. 

Soon  as  each  babe  was  twelve  days  old 
'Twas  time  the  naming  rite  to  hold, 
When  Saint  Vasishtha,  rapt  with  joy, 
Assigned  a  name  to  every  boy. 
Kama,  to  him  the  high-souled  heir, 
Bharat,  to  him  Kaikeyi  bare  : 
Of  Queen  Suniitra  one  fair  son 
Was  Lakshman,  and  3atrughna4  one. 


1  *  Pushya  is  the  name  of  a  month  ; 
but  here  it  means  the  eighth  mansion. 
The  ninth  is  called  Asleshd.  or  the  snake. 
It  is  evident  from  this  that  Bharat,  though 
his  birth  is  mentioned  before   that  of  the 
twins,    was    the    youngest   of    the    four 
brothers  and  Rama's  junior  by    eleven 
months.'    SCHLEGEL. 

2  A  fish,  the  Zodiacal  sign  Pisces. 

3  One  of  the  constellations,  containing 
stars  in  the  wing  of  Pegasus. 

4  Rama  means  the  Delight  (of  the  World) ; 
Bharat,  the  Supporter;  Lakshman,  the 
Auspicious;  Satruguaa,  th«  Slayer  of '' 


Rama,  his  sire's  supreme  delight, 

Like  some  proud  banner  cheered  his  sight, 

And  to  all  creatures  seemed  to  be 

The  self-existent  deity. 

All  heroes,  versed  in  holy  lore, 

To  all  mankind  great  love  they  bore. 

Fair  stores  of  wisdom  all  possessed, 

With  princely  graces  all  were  blest. 

But  mid  those  youths  of  high  descent, 

With  lordly  light  preeminent, 

Like  the  full  mooo  unclouded,  shone 

Rama,  the  world's  dear  paragon. 

He  best  the  elephant  could  guide,1 

Urge  the  fleet  car,  the  charger  ride  : 

A  master  he  of  bowman's  skill, 

Joying  to  do  his  father's  will. 

The  world's  delight  and  darling,  he 

Loved  Lakshman  best  from  infancy; 

And  Lakshman,  lord  of  lofty  fate, 

Upon  his  elder 'joyed  to  wait, 

Striving  his  second  self  to  please 

With  friendship's  sweet  observances. 

His  limbs  the  hero  ne'er  would  rest 

Unless  the  couch  his  brother  ^pressed; 

Except  beloved  Rama  shared 

He  could  not  taste  the  meal  prepared. 

When  Rama,  pride  of  Reghu's  race, 

Sprang  on  his  steed  to  urge  the  chase, 

Behind  him  Lakshman  loved  to  go 

And  guard  him  with  his  trusty  bow. 

As  Rama  was  to  Lakshman  dear 

More  than  his  life  and  ever  near, 

So  fond  ^atrughna  prized  above 

His  very  life  his  Bharat's  love. 

Illustrious  heroes,  nobly  kind 

In  mutual  love  they  all  combined, 

And  gave  their  royal  sire;delight 

With  modest  grace  and  warrior  might ; 

Supported  by  the  glorious  four 

Shone  Dasaratha  more  and  more, 

As  though,  with  every  guardian}God 
Who  keeps  the  land  and  skies, 

The  Father  of  all  creatures  trod 
The  earth  before  men's  eyes. 


CANTO  XX. 


VI^VAMITRA'S  VISIT. 

Now  Dasaratha's  pious  mind 

Meet  wedlock  for  his  sons  designed; 


1  Schlegel,  in  the  Indische  Bibllothek, 
remarks  that  the  proficiency  of  the  In- 
dians in  this  art  early  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  Alexander's  successors,  and  natives 
of  India  were  so  long  exclusively  employed 
in  this  service  that  the  name  Indian  was 
applied  to  any  elephant-driver,  to  whatever 
country  ke  might  belong, 


Canto 


THE  R  A  MAYAN. 


S3 


With  priests  and  friends  the  king  began 
To  counsel  and  prepare  his  plan. 
Such  thoughts  engaged  his  bosom,  when, 
To  see  Ayodhya's  lord  of  men, 
A  mighty  saint  of  glorious  fame, 
The  hermit  Visvamitra1  came. 
For  evil  fiends  that  roam  by  night 
Disturbed  him  in  each  holy  rite. 
And  in  their  strength  and  frantic  rage 
Assailed  with  witcheries  the  sage. 
He  came  to  seek  the  monarch's  aid 
To  guard  the  rites  the  demons  stayed, 
Unable  to  a  close  to  bring 
One  unpolluted  offering. 
Seeking  the  king  in  this  dire  strait 
He  said  to  those  who  kept  the  gate: 
*  Haste,  warders,  to  your  master  run, 
And  say  that  here  stands  Gadhi's  son.' 

Soon  as  they  heard  the  holy  man, 
To  the  king's  chamber  swift  they  ran 
With  minds  disordered  all,  and  spurred 
To  wildest  zeal  by  what  they  heard. 
On  to  the  royal  hall  they  sped, 
There  stood  and  lowly  bowed  the  head, 
And  made  the  lord  of  men  aware 
That  the  great  saint  was  waiting  there. 

The  king  with  priest  and  peer  arose 
And  ran  the  sage  to  meet, 

As  Indra  from  his  palace  goes 
Lord  Brahma's  self  to  greet. 
When  glowing  with  celestial  light 
The  pious  hermit  was  in  sight, 
The  king,  whose  mien  his  transport  showed, 
The  honoured  gift  for  guests  bestowed. 
Nor  did  the  saint  that  gift  despise, 
Offered  as  holy  texts  advise  ; 
He  kindly  asked  the  earth's  great  king 
How  all  with  him  was  prospering. 
The  son  of  Kusika  bade  him  tell 
If  all  in  town  and  field  were  well, 
All  well  with  friends,  and  kith  and  kin, 
And  royal  treasure  stored  within : 

'Do  all  thy  neighbours  own  thy  sway? 
Thy  foes  confess  thee  yet  ? 

Dost  thou  continue  still  to  pay 

To  Gods  and  men  each  debt  ?  * 
Then  he,  of  hermits  first  and  best, 
Vasishtha  with  a  smile3  addressed, 


1  The  story  of  this  famous  saint  is  given 
at  sufficient  length  in  Cantos  LI— LV. 

This  saint  has  given  his  name  to  the 
district  and  city  to  the  east  of  Benares. 
The  original  name,  preserved  in  a  land- 
grant  on  copper  now  in  the  Museum  of 
the  Benares  College,  has  been  Moslemized 
into  Ghazeepore  (the  City  of  the  Soldier 
martyr). 

*  The  son  of  Kusik  is  Visvamitra. 

*  At  the  recollection  of    their  former 
enmity,  to  be  described  hereafter, 


And  asked  him  of  his  welfare  too, 

Showing  him  honour  as  was  due. 

Then  with  the  sainted  hermit  all 

Went  joyous  to  the  monarch's  hall, 

And  sate  them  down  by  due  degree, 

Each  one,  of  rank  and  dignity. 

Joy  filled  the  noble  prince's  breast 

Who  thus  bespoke  the  honoured  guest : 

'  As  amrit1  by  a  mortal  found, 

As  rain  upon  the  thirsty  ground, 

As  to  an  heirless  man  a  son 

Born  to  him  of  his  precious  one, 

As  gain  of  what  we  sorely  miss, 

As  sudden  dawn  of  mighty  bliss, 

So  is  thy  coming  here  to  me : 

All  welcome,  mighty  Saint,  to  thee. 

What  wish  within  thy  heart  hast  thou? 

If  I  can  please  thee,  tell  me  how. 

Hail,  Saint,  from  whom  all  honours  flow, 

Worthy  of  all  I  can  bestow. 

Blest  is  my  birth  with  fruit  to-day, 

Nor  has  my  life  been  thrown  away. 

I  see  the  best  of  Brahman  race 

And  night  to  glorious  morn  gives  place. 

Thou,  holy  Sage,  in  days  of  old 

Among  the  royal  saints  enrolled, 

Didst,  penance-glorified,  within 

The  Brahman  caste  high  station  win, 

'Tis  meet  and  right  in  many  a  way 

That  I  to  thee  should  honour  pay. 

This  seems  a  marvel  to  mine  eyes  : 

All  sin  thy  visit  purifies  ; 

And  I  by  seeing  thee,  0  Sage, 

Have  reaped  the  fruit  of  pilgrimage. 

Then  say  what  thou  wouldst  have  me  do, 

That  thou  hast  sought  this  interview. 

Favoured  by  thee,  my  wish  is  still, 

O  Hermit,  to  perform  thy  will. 

Nor  needest  thou  at  length  explain 

The  object  that  thy  heart  would  gain. 

Without  reserve  I  grant  it  now  : 

My  deity,  O  Lord,  art  thou.' 

The  glorious  hermit,  far  renowned, 
With  highest  fame  and  virtue  crowned, 
Rejoiced  these  modest  words  to  hear 
Delightful  to  the  mind  and  ear. 

CANTO  XXI. 

TT  T  4  \T  \r  A/T  T  T 1?  A  '  Ct    Q  l>  C1  "C1 0  TT 

VlbVAiVIllliA  o  brUi&Uil. 

The  hermit  heard  with  high  content 
That  speech  so  wondrous  eloquent, 
And  while  each  hair  with  joy  arose,2 

1  The  Indian  nectar  or  drink  of  the  Gods, 

8  Great  joy,   according  to   the    Hindu 

belief,  has  this  effect,  not  causing   each 

particular    hair    to     stand    on    end,   but 

gently  raising  all  the  down  upon  the  body* 


TEE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  /. 


He  thus  made  answer  at  the  close  : 

*  Good  is  thy  speech  0  noble  King, 

And  like  thyself  in  everything. 

So  should  their  lips  be  wisdom -fraught 

Whom  kings  begot,  Vasishtha  taught. 

The  favour  which  I  came  to  seek 

Thou  grantest  ere  my  tongue  can  speak. 

But  let  my  tale  attention  claim, 

And  hear  the  need  for  which  I  came, 

O  King,  as  Scripture  texts  allow, 

A  holy  rite  employs  me  now. 

Two  fiends  who  change  their  forms  at  will 

Impede  that  rite  with  cursed  skill,1 

Oft  when  the  task  is  nigh  complete, 

These  worst  of  fiends  my  toil  defeat, 

Throw  bits  of  bleeding  llesh.  and  o'er 

The  altar  shed  a  stream  of  gore. 

When  thus  the  rite  is  mocked  and  stayed, 

And  all  my  pious  hopes  delayed, 

Cast  down  in  heart  the  spot  I  leave, 

And  spent  with  fruitless  labour  grieve. 

Nor  can  I,  checked  by  prudence,  dare 

Let  loose  my  fury  on  them  there  : 

The  muttered  curse,  the  threatening  word, 

In  such  a  rite  must  ne'er  be  heard. 

Thy  grace  the  rite  from  check  can  free, 

And  yield  the  fruit  I  long  to  see. 

Thy  duty  bids  thee,  King,  defend 

The  suffering  guest,  the  suppliant  friend. 

Give  me  thy  son,  thine  eldest  born, 

Whom  locks  like  raven's  wings  adorn. 

That  hero  youth,  the  truly  brave, 

Of  thee,  O  glorious  King,  I  crave. 

For  he  can  lay  those  demons  low 

Who  mar  my  rites  and  work  me  woe  : 

My  power  shall  shield  the  youth  from  harm, 

And  heavenly  might  shall  nerve  his  arm. 

And  on  my  champion  will  I  shower 

Unnumbered  gifts  of  varied  power, 

Such  gifts  as  shall  ensure  his  fame 

And  spread  through  all  the  worlds  his  name. 

Be  sure  those  fiends  can  never  stand 

Before  the  might  of  llama's  hand, 

And  mid  the  best  and  bravest  none 

Can  slay  that  pair  but  Raghu's  son. 

Entangled  in  the  toils  of  Fate 

Those  sinners,  proud  and  obstinate, 

Are,  in  their  fury  overbold, 

No  match  for  Rama  mighty-souled. 

Nor  let  a  father's  breast  give  way 

Too  far  to  fond  affection's  sway. 

Count  thou  the  fiends  already  slain  : 

My  word  is  pledged,  nor  pledged  in  vain. 

I  know  the  hero  Rama  well 

1  The  R£kshasas,  giants,  or  fiends  who 
are  represented  as  disturbing  the  sacrifice, 
signify  here,  as  often  elsewhere,  merely 
the  savage  tribes  which  placed  themselves 
in  hostile  opposition  to  Br&bmanical  ins- 
titutions, 


In  whom  high  thoughts  and  valour  dwell  ; 

So  does  Vasishtha,  so  do  these 

Engaged  in  lone:  austerities. 

If  thou  would  do  the  righteous  deed, 

And  win  high  fame,  thy  virtue's  meed, 

Fame  that  on  earth  shall  last  and  live, 

To  me,  great  King,  thy  R&ma  give. 

If  to  the  words  that  I  have  said, 

With  Saint  Vasishtha  at  their  head 

Thy  holy  men,  0  King,  agree, 

Then  let  thy  Rama  go  with  me. 

Teu  nights  my  sacrifice  will  last, 

And  ere  the  stated  time  be  past 

Those  wicked  fiends,  those  impious  twain, 

Must  fall  by  wondrous  Rama  slain. 

Let  not  the  hours,  I  warn  thee,  fly, 

Fixt  for  the  rite,  unheeded  by  ; 

Good  luck  have  thou,  0  roval  Chief, 

Nor  give  thy  heart  to  needless  grief.' 

Thus  in  fair  words  with  virtue  fraught 
The  pious  glorious  saint  besought. 
But  the  good  speech  with  poignant  sting 
Pierced  ear  and  bosom  of  the  king, 
Who,  stabbed  with  pangs  top  sharp  to  bear, 
Fell  prostrate  and  lay  fainting  there. 


CANTO  XXII. 
DA^ARATHA'S  SPEECH. 

His  tortured  senses  all  astray, 
Awhle  the  hapless  monarch  lay, 
Then  slowly  gathering  thought  and  Btrengh 
To  Visvamhra  spoke  at  length : 
*  My  son  is  but  a  child,  I  ween  ; 
This  year  he  will  be  just  sixteen. 
How  is  he  fit  for  such  emprise, 
My  darling  with  the  lotus  eyes  T 
A  mghty  army  will  I  bring 
That  calls  me  master,  lord,  and  king, 
And  with  its  countless  squadrons  fight 
Against  these  rovers  of  the  night. 
My  faithful  heroes  skilled  to  wield 
The  arms  of  war  will  take  the  field  ; 
Their  skill  the  demons'  might  may  break: 
Rama,  my  child,  thou  must  not  take. 
I,  even  I,  my  bow  in  hand, 
Will  in  the  van  of  battle  stand, 
And,  while  my  soul  is  left  alive, 
With  the  night-roaming  demons  strive. 
Thy  guarded  sacrifice  shall  be 
Completed,  from  all  hindrance  free. 
Thither  will  I  my  journey  make  : 
Rama,  my  child,  thou  must  not  take, 
A  boy  unskilled,  he  knows  not  yet 
The  bounds  to  strength  and  weakness  set. 
No  match  is  he  for  demon  foes 
Who  magic  arts  to  arms  oppose. 


Canto  XXIII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


0  chief  of  saints,  I  have  no  power, 
Of  Kama  reft,  to  live  one  hour  : 
Mine  aged  heart  at  once  would  break  : 
Rama,  my  child,  thpu  must  not  take. 
Nine  thousand  circling  years  have  tied 
With  all  their  seasons  o'er  my  head, 
And  as  a  hard- won  boon,  0  Sage, 
These  sons  have  come  to  cheer  mine  age. 
My  dearest  love  amid  the  four 

Is  he  whom  first  his  mother  bore, 

Still  dearer  for  his  virtues'  sake : 

Rama,  my  child,  thou  must  not  take. 

But  if,  unmoved  by  all  I  say, 

Tiiou  needs  must  bear  my  son  away, 

Let  me  lead  with  him,  I  entreat, 

A  four-fold  army1  all  complete. 

What  is  the  demons'  might,  O  Sage  ? 

Who  are  they  ?  What  their  parentage  f 

What  is  their  size  ?  What  beings  lend 

Their  power  to  guard  them  and  befriend  ? 

How  can  my  son  their  arts  withstand? 

Or  I  or  all  my  armed  band? 

Tell  me  the  whole  that  I  may  know 

To  meet  in  war  each  evil  foe 

Whom  conscious  might  inspires  with  pride.' 

And  Visvamitra  thus  replied  : 
'  Sprung  from  Pulastya's  race  there  came 
A  giant  known  by  Ravan's  name. 
Once  favoured  by  the  Eternal  Sire 
He  plagues  the  worlds  in  ceaseless  ire, 
For  peerless  power  and  might  renowned, 
By  giant  bands  encompassed  round. 
Visravas  for  his  sire  they  hold, 
His  brother  is  the  Lord  of  Gold. 
King  of  the  giant  hosts  is  he, 
And  worst  of  all  in  cruelty. 
This  Ravan's  dread  commands  impel 
Two  demons  who  in  might  excel, 
Maricha  and  Suvahu  hight, 
To  trouble  and  impede  the  rite.' 

Then  thus  the  king  addressed  the  sage  : 

1  No  power  have  I,  my  lord,  to  wage 
War  with  this  evil-rninded  foe  ; 
Now  pity  on  my  darling  show, 
And  upon  me  of  hapless  fate, 

For  thee  as  God  I  venerate. 
Gods,  spirits,  bards  of  heavenly  birth,2 
The  birds  of  air,  the  snakes  of  earth 
Before  the  might  of  Ravan  quail, 
Much  less  can  mortal  man  avail. 
He  draws,  I  hear,  from  out  the  breast 


1  Consisting  of  horse,  foot,  chariots,  and 
elepnants, 

2  '  The  Gandharvas,  or  heavenly  bards, 
had  originally  a  warlike  character   but 
were  afterwards  reduced  to  the  office  of 
celestial  musicians  cheering  the  banquets 
of  the  Gods.    Dr.  Kuhn   has  shown  their 
identity  with  the  Centaurs  in   name,  ori- 
giu,  and  attribute.'    GORKESIO. 


The  valour  of  the  mightiest, 

No,  ne'er  can  I  with  him  contend, 

Or  with  the  forces  he  may  send. 

How  can  I  then  my  darling  lend, 

Godlike,  unskilled  in  battle?  No, 

I  will  not  let  my  young  child  go. 

Foes  of  thy  rite,  those  mighty  ones, 

Sunda  and  Upasunda's  sons, 

Are  fierce  as  Fate  to  overthrow  : 

1  will  not  let  my  young  child  go. 

Maricha  and  Suvahu  fell 

Are  valiant  and  instructed  well. 

One  of  the  twain  I  might  attack 

With  all  my  friends  their  lord  to  back.' 

CANTO  XXIII. 


VASlSHTHA'S  SPEECH. 

While  thus  the  hapless  monarch  spoke, 
Paternal  love  his  utterance  broke. 
Then  words  like  these  the  saint  returned, 
And  fury  in  his  bosom  burned  : 
*  Didst  thou,  O  King,  a  promise  make, 
And  wishest  now  thy  word  to  break  ? 
A  son  of  Raghu's  line  should  scoru 
To  fail  in  faith,  a  man  forsworn. 
But  if  thy  soul  can  bear  the  shame 
I  will  return  e'en  as  I  came. 
Live  with  thy  sons,  and  joy  be  thine, 
False  scion  of  Kakutstha's  line.' 

As  Visvamitra,  mighty  sage, 
Was  moved  with  this  tempestuous  rage, 
Earth  rocked  and  reeled  throughout  her 

frame, 

And  fear  upon  the  Immortals  came. 
But  Saint  Vasishtha,  wisest  seer, 
Observant  of  his  vows  austere, 
Saw  the  whole  world  convulsed  with  dread, 
And  thus  unto  the  monarch  said  : 
'Thou,  born  of  old  Ikshvaku's  seed, 
Art  Justice'  self  in  mortal  weed. 
Constant  and  pious,  blest  by  fate, 
The  rigjht  thou  must  not  violate. 
Thou,  Raghu's  son,  so  famous  through 
The  triple  world  as  just  and  true, 
Perform  thy  bounden  duty  still, 
Nor  stain  thy  race  by  deed  of  ill. 
If  thou  have  sworn  and  now  refuse 
Thou  must  thy  store  of  merit  lose. 
Then,  Monarch,  let  thy  Kama  go, 
Nor  fear  for  him  the  demon  foe. 
The  fiends  shall  have  no  power  to  hurt 
Him  trained  to  war  or  inexpert, 
Nor  vanquish  him  in  battle  field, 
For  Kusik's  son  the  youth  will  shield. 
He  is  incarnate  Justice,  he 
The  best  of  men  for  bravery, 
Embodied  love  of  penance  drear, 
the  wise  without  a  peer. 


TBE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  I. 


Full  well  he  knows,  great  Kusik's  son, 
The  arms  celestial,  every  one, 
Arms  from  the  Gods  themselves  concealed, 
Par  less  to  other  men  revealed. 
These  arms  to  him,  when  earth  he  swayed, 
Mighty  Krisasva,  pleased,  conveyed, 
Krisasva's  sons  they  are  indeed, 
Brought  forth  by  Daksha's  lovely  seed,1 
Heralds  of  conquest,  strong  and  bold, 
Brilliant,  of  semblance  manifold. 
Jay  a  and  Vijaya,  most  fair, 
And  hundred  splendid  weapons  bare. 
Of,  Jaya,  glorious  as  the  morn, 
First  fifty  noble  sons  were  born, 
Boundless  in  size  yet  viewless  too, 
They  came  the  demons  to  subdue. 
And  fifty  children  also  came 
Of  Vijaya  the  beauteous  dame, 
Sanharas  named,  of  mighty  force, 
Bard  to  assail  or  check  in  course. 
Of  these  the  hermit  knows  the  use, 
And  weapons  new  can  he  produce. 
All  these  the  mighty  saint  will  yield 
To  Rama's  hand,  to  own  and  wield  ; 
And  armed  with  these,  beyond  a  doubt 
Shall  Rama  put  those  fiends  to  rout. 
For  Rama  and  the  people's  sake, 
For  thine  own  good  my  counsel  take, 
Nor  seek,  0  King,  with  fond  delay, 
The  parting  of  thy  son  to  stay.' 


CANTO  XXIV. 


THE  SPELLS. 

Vasishtha  thus  was  speaking  still  : 
The  monarch,  of  his  own  free  will, 
Bade  with  quick  zeal  and  joyful  cheer 
Rama  and  Lakshman  hasten  near. 
Mother  and  sire  in  loving  care 
Sped  their  dear  son  with  rite  and  prayer  : 
Vasishtha  blessed  him  ere  he  went ; 
O'er  his  loved  head  the  father  bent, 
And  then  to  Kusik's  son  resigned 
Rama  with  Lakshman  close  behind. 
Standing  by  Viavamitra's  side, 
The  youthful  hero,  lotus-eyed, 
The  Wind-God  saw,  and  sent  a  breeze 
Whose  sweet  pure  touch  just  waved  the 

trees. 

There  fell  from  heaven  a  flowery  rain, 
And  with  the  song  and  dance  the  strain 
Of  shell  and  tambour  sweetly  blent 
As  forth  the  son  of  Raghu  went. 


1  These  mysterious  animated  weapons 
are  enumerated  in  Cantos  XXIX  and 
XXX.  Daksha  was  the  son  of  Brahma 
and  one  of  the  Prajapatis,  Deniiurgi,  or 
secondary  authors  oJ[  creation, 


The  hermit  led  :  behind  him  came 
The  bow- armed  Rama,  dear  to  fame, 
Whose  locks  were  like  the  raven's  wing  ;! 
Then  Lakshman,  closely  following. 
The  Gods  and  Indra,  filled  with  joy, 
Looked  down  upon  the  royal  boy, 
And  much  they  longed  the  death  to  see 
Of  their  ten-headedenemy.2 
Rama  and  Lakshman  paced  behind 
That  hermit  of  the  lofty  mind, 
As  the  young  Asvins,3  heavenly  pair, 
Follow  Lord  Indra  through  the  air. 
On  arm  and  hand  the  guard  they  wore, 
Quiver  and  bow  and  sword  they  bore  ; 
Two  fire-born  Gods  of  War  seemed  they.* 
He,  Siva's  self  who  led  the  way. 

Upon  fair  Sarju's  southern  shore 
They  now  had  walked  a  league  and  more. 
When  thus  the  sage  in  accents  mild 
To  Rama  said  :  *  Beloved  child, 
This  lustral  water  duly  touch  : 
My  counsel  will  avail  thee  much. 
Forget  not  all  the  words  I  say, 
Nor  let  the  occasion  slip  away. 
Lo,  with  two  spells  I  thee  invest, 
The  mighty  and  the  mightiest. 
O'er  thee  fatigue  shall  ne'er  prevail, 
Nor  age  or  change^thy  limbs  assail. 
Thee  powers  of  darkness  ne'er  shall  smite 
In  tranquil  sleep  or  wild  delight. 
No  one  is  there  in  all  the  laud 
Thine  equal  for  the  vigorous  hand. 


1  Youths  of  the  Kshatriya  class  used 
to  leave  unshorn  the  side  locks  of  their 
hair.  These  were  called  Kdka-pakska, 
or  raven's  wings. 

*  The  Rakshas  or  giant  Ravan,  king  of 
Lanka. 

3  *  The  meaning  of  Asvins  (from  asva  a 
horse,  Persian  asp,  Greek  f/7T7TO£,  Latin 
equus,  Welsh  ech)  is  Horsemen.     They 
were  twin  deities  of  whom  frequent  men- 
tion is  made  in  the  Vedas  and  the  Indian 
myths.    The  Asvins  have  much  in  com- 
mon with  the  Dioscuri  of  Greece,   and 
their  mythical  genealogy  seems  to  indicate 
that  their  origin  was  astronomical.    They 
were,  perhaps,  at  first  the  morning  star 
and  evening  star.    They  are  said  to  be  the 
children  of  the  sun  and  the  nymph  Asvini, 
who  is  one  of  the  lunar  asterisms  personi- 
fied.    In  the  popular  mythology  they  are 
regarded  as  the  physicians  of  the  Gods/ 
GORRESIO. 

4  The  word  Kwndra  (a  young  prince,  a 
Childei  is  also  a  proper  name  of  Skanda 
or  Kartikeya  God  of  War,  the  son  of  §iva 
and  Uma.    The  babe  was  matured  in  the 
lire.    See  Appendix,  Kdrtikeii  Generartw 


Canto  XXV. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


37 


Thou,  when  thy  lips  pronounce  the  spell, 
Shalt  have  no  peer  in  heaven  or  hell. 
None  in  the  world  with  thee shall  vie, 
O  sinless  one,  in  apt  reply, 
In  fortune,  knowledge,  wit,  and  tact, 
Wisdom  to  plan  ana  skill  to  act. 
Tliis  double  science  take,  and  gain 
Glorv  that  shall  for  aye  remain. 
Wisdom  and  judgment  spring  from  each 
Of  these  fair  spells  whose  use  I  teach. 
Hunger  and  thirst  unknown  to  thee, 
High  in  the  worlds  thy  rank  shall  be. 
For  these  two  spells  with  might  endued, 
Are  the  Great  Father's  heavenly  brood, 
And  thee,  0  Chief,  may  fitly  grace, 
Thou  glory  of  Kakutstha's  race. 
Virtues  which  none  can  match  are  thine, 
Lord,  from  thy  birth,  of  gifts  divine, 
And  now  these  spells  of  might  shall  cast 
Fresh  radiance  o'er  the  gifts  thou  hast.' 
Then  Kama  duly  touched  the  wave, 

Raised  suppliant  hands,  bowed  low  his 

head, 
And  took  the  spells  the  hermit  gave, 

Whose  soul  on  contemplation  fed. 
From  him   whose  might  these  gifts  en- 
hanced, 

A  brighter  beam  of  glory  glanced  : 
So  shines  in  all  his  autumn  blaze 
The  Day-God  of  the  thousand  rays. 
The  hermit's  wants  those  youths  supplied, 
As  pupils  use  to  holy  guide. 
And  tnen  the  night  in  sweet  content 
On  Sarju's  pleasant  bank  they  spent, 

CANTO  XXV. 


THE  HERMITAGE  OF  LOVE. 

Soon  as  appeared  the  morning  light 
Up  rose  the  mighty  anchorite, 
And  thus  to  youthful  Rama  said, 
Who  lay  upon  his  leafy  bed  : 
*High  fate  is  hers  who  calls  thee  son  : 

Arise,  'tis  break  of  day  ; 
Rise,  Chief,  and  let  those  rites  be  done 

Due  at  the  morning's  ray.'1 
At  that  great  sage's  high  behest 

Up  sprang  the  princely  pair, 
To  bathing  rites  themselves  addressed, 

And  breathed  the  holiest  prayer. 
Their  morning  task  completed,  they 

To  Visvamitra  came 

1  *  At  the  rising  of  the  sun  as  well  as  at 
noon  certain  observances,  invocations, 
and  prayers  were  prescribed  which  might 
under  no  circumstances  be  omitted.  One 
of  the -,e  observances  was  the  recitation  of 
the  Savitri,  a  Vedic  hymn  to  the  Sun  of 
wonderful  beauty,'  GOKRESIO. 


That  store  of  holy  works,  to  pay 

The  worship  saints  may  claim. 
Then  to  the  hallowed  spot  they  went 

Along  fair  Sarju's  side 
Where  mix  her  waters  confluent 

With  three -pathed  Ganga's  tide.1 
There  was  a  sacred  hermitage 

Where  saints  devout  of  mind 
Their  lives  through  many  a  lengthened  ago 

To  penance  had  resigned. 
That  pure  abode  the  princes  eyed 

With  unrestrained  delight, 
And  thus  unto  the  saint  they  cried, 

Rejoicing  at  the  sight : 
'  Whose  is  that  hermitage  we  see  ? 

Who  makes  his  dwelling  there? 
Full  of  desire  to  hear  are  we  : 

O  Saint,  the  truth  declare.' 
The  hermit  smiling  made  reply 

To  the  two  boys'  request : 
1  Hear,  Rama,  who  in  days  gone  by 

This  calm  retreat  possessed. 
Kandarpa  in  apparent  form. 

Called  Kama2  by  the  wise, 
Dared  Uma's3  new-wed  lord  to  storm 

And  make  the  God  his  prize, 
'Gainst  Sthanu's4  self,  on  rites  austere 

And  vow*  intent,6  they  say, 
His  bold  rash  hand  he  dared  to  rear, 

Though  Sthanu  cried,  Away  ! 
But  the  God's  eye  with  scornful  glare 

Fell  terrible  on  him, 
Dissolved  the  shape  that  was  so  fair 


1  Trrpathaga,  Three -path- go,  flowing 
in  heaven,  on  earth,  and  under  the  earth, 
See  Canto  XLV. 

*  Tennyson's  *  Indian  Cama,'  the  God 
of  Love,  known  also  by  many  other  names, 

3  Umd,  or   Pdrvati,  was  daughter  of 
Himalaya.   Monarch  of  mountains,  and 
wife  of  £iva.      See  Kalidasa's  Eumdra 
SambJiava,  or  Birth  of  the  War-  God. 

4  Sthdnu.    The  Unmoving  one,  a  name 
of  $iva. ' 

5  '  The  practice  of  austerities,  voluntary 
tortures,  and  mortifications  was  anciently 
universal  in  India,  and  was  held  by  the 
Indians  to  be  of  immense  efficacy.    Hence 
they  mortified  themselves  to  expiate  sing, 
to   acquire  merits,  and  to  obtain  super- 
human gifts  and  powers  ;  the  Gods  them- 
selves sometimes  exercised  themselves  in 
such  austerities,  either  to  raise  themselves 
to  greater    power  and    grandeur,  or    to 
counteract  the  austerities  of  man  which 
threatened  to   prevail  over  them   and  to 
deprive  them  of  heaven..... Such  aus- 
terities were  called  in  India  tapas  'burn- 
ing ardour,  fervent  devotion)  and  he  who 
practised  them  tapasvinS    GOKRBSIO, 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  I. 


And  burnt  up  every  limb. 
Since  the  great  God's  terrific  rage 

Destroyed  his  form  and  frame, 
Kama  iu  each  succeeding  age 

Has  borne  Ananga's1  name. 
So,  where  his  lovely  form  decayed, 

This  land  is  Anga  styled  : 
Sacred  to  him  of  old  this  shade, 

And  hermits  undefiled. 
Here  Scripture-talking  elders  sway 

Each  sense  with  firm  control, 
And  penance-rites  have  washed  away 

All  sin  from  every  soul. 
One  night,  fair  boy,  we  here  will  spend, 

A  pure  stream  on  each  hand, 
And  with  to-morrow's  light  will  bend 

Our  steps  to  yonder  strand. 
Here  let  us  bathe,  and  free  from  stain 

To  that  pure  grove  repair, 
Sacred  to  Kama,  and  remain 

One  night  in  comfort  there.' 
With  penance'  far-discerning  eye 

The  saintly  men  beheld 
Their  coming,  and  with  transport  high 

Each  holy  bosom  swelled. 
To  Kusik's  son  the  gift  they  gave 

That  honoured  guest  should  greet, 
Water  they  brought  his  feet  to  lave, 

And  showed  him  honour  meet. 
Rama  and  Lakshman  next  obtained 

In  due  degree  their  share. 
Then  with  sweet  talk  the  guests  remained, 

And  charmed  each  listener  there. 
The  evening  prayers  were  duly  said 

With  voices  calm  and  low  : 
Then  on  the  ground  each  laid  his  head 

And  slept  till  morning's  glow. 

CANTO  XXVI. 


THE  FOREST  OF  TADAKA. 

When  the  fair  light  of  morning  rose 
The  princely  tamers  of  their  foes 
Followed,  his  morning  worship  o'er, 
The  hermit  to  the  river's  shore. 
The  high-souled  men  with  thoughtful  care 
A  pretty  barge  had  stationed  there. 
All  cried,  *  O  lord,  this  barge  ascend, 
And  with  thy  princely  followers  bend 
To  yonder  side  thy  prosperous  way 
With  naught  to  check  thee  or  delay.* 
Nor  did  the  saint  their  rede  reject : 
He  bade  farewell  with  due  respect, 
And  crossed,  attended  by  the  twain, 
That  river  rushing  to  the  main. 
When  now  the  bark  was  half  way  o'er, 
Rama  and  Lakshman  heard  the  roar, 


The  Bod'dets  one. 


That  louder  grew  and  louder  yet, 
Of  waves  by  dashing  waters  met. 
Then  Rama  asked  the  mighty  seer  : 

*  What  is  the  tumult  that  I  hear 
Of  waters  cleft  in  mid  career  ? ' 
Soon  as  the  speech  of  Rama,  stirred 
By  deep  desire  to  know,  he  heard, 
The  pious  saint  began  to  tell 

What  caused  the  waters'  roar  and  swell : 
'  On  high  Kailasa's  distant  hill 

There  lies  a  noble  lake 
Whose  waters,  born  from  Brahma's  will, 

The  name  of  Manas1  take. 
Thence,  hallowing  where'er  they  flow, 

The  streams  of  Sarju  fall, 
And  wandering  through  the  plains  below 

Embrace  Ayodhy&'s  wall. 
Still,  still  preserved  in  Sarju's  name 

Sarovar's*  fame  we  trace. 
The  flood  of  Brahma  whence  she  came 

To  run  her  holy  race. 
To  meet  great  Ganga  here  she  hies 

With  tributary  wave  : 
Hence  the  loud  roar  ye  hear  arise, 

Of  floods  that  swell  and  rave. 
Here,  pride  of  Ragbu's  line,  do  thou 
In  humble  adoration  bow.' 

He  spoke.    The  princes  both  obeyed, 
And  reverence  to  each  river  paid.3 
They  reached  the  southern  shore  at  last, 
And  gaily  on  their  journey  passed. 
A  little  space  beyond  there  stood 
A  gloomy  awe-inspiring  wood. 
The  monarch's  noble  son  began 
To  question  thus  the  holy  man  : 

*  Whose  gloomy  forest  meets  mine  eye 
Like  some  vast  cloud  that  fills  the  sky  ? 
Pathless  and  dark  it  seems  to  be, 
Where  birds  in  thousands  wander  free  ; 
Where  shrill  cicalas'  cries  resound, 


1  *A  celebrated  lake  regarded  in  India 
as  sacred.    It  lies  in  the  lofty  region  be- 
tween the  northern  highlands  of  the  Him- 
alayas  and  mount  Kailaaa,  the  region  of 
the  sacred  lakes.    The  poem,  following 
the  popular  Indian  belief,  makes  the  river 
Sarayu(nowSarju)flow  from  the  Manasa 
lake;  the  sources  of  the  river  are  a  little  to 
the  south  about  a  day's  journey  from  the 
lake.    See  Lassen,  Indische   Alterthums- 
kunde,  page  34.'  GORRESIO.  Ma nas  means 
mind  ;  mdnasa,  mental,  mind-born, 

2  tiarovar  means  best  of  lakes.    This  is 
another  of  the  poet's  fanciful  etymologies. 

3  The  confluence  of  two  or  more  rivers 
is  often  a  venerated  and  holy  place.    The 
most    famous  is    Prayag  or    Allahabad, 
where  the  Sarasvati  bv  an  underground 
course  is  believed  to  join  fche  Jumna  and 
the  Ganges, 


Canto  XXVII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


And  fowl  of  dismal  note  abound, 
Lioo,  rhinoceros,  and  bear, 
Boar,  tiger,  elephant,  are  there, 

There  shrubs  and  thorns  run  wild  : 
Dhao,  Sal,  Bignonia,  Bel,1  are  found, 
And  every  tree  that  grows  on  ground  : 

How  is  the  forest  styled  ? ' 
The  glorious  saint  this  answer  made  : 
'  Dear  child  of  Kaghu,  hear 
Who  dwells  within  the  horrid  shade 

That  looks  so  dark  and  drear. 
Where  now  is  wood,  long  ere  this  day 

Two  broad  and  fertile  lands, 
Malaja  and  Karusha  lay. 

Adorned  by  heavenly  hands. 
Here,  mourning  friendship's  broken  ties, 
Lord  Indra  of  the  thousand  eyes 
Hungered  and  sorrowed  many  a  day, 
His  brightness  soiled  with  mud  and  elay, 
When  in  a  storm  of  passion  he 
Had  slain  his  dear  friend  Namuchi. 
Then  came  the  Gods  and  saints  who  bore 
Their  golden  pitchers  brimming  o'er 
With  holy  streams  that  banish  stain, 
Arid  bathed  Lord  Indra  pure  again. 
When  in  this  land  the  God  was  freed 
From  spot  and  stain  of  impious  deed 
For  that  his  own  dear  friend  he  slew, 
High  transport  thrilled  his  bosom  through. 
Then  in  his  joy  the  lands  he  blessed, 
And  gave  a  boon  they  long  possessed: 

*  Because  these  fertile  lands  retain 
The  washings  of  the  blot  and  stain,' 

'Twas  thus  Lord  Indra  sware, 

*  Malaja  and  Karusha's  name 
Shall  celebrate  with  deathless  fame 

My  malady  and  care.'2 
'  So  be  it',  all  the  Immortals  cried, 

When  Indra's  speech  they  heard, 
And  with  acclatm  they  ratified 

The  names  his  lips  conferred. 
Long  time,  O  victor  of  thy  foes, 
These  happy  lands  had  sweet  repose, 
And  higher  still  in  fortune  rose. 
At  length  a  spirit,  loving  ill, 
Tadaka,  wearing  shapes  at  will, 


1  The  botanical  names  of  the  trees 
mentioned  in  the  text  are  Grislea  Tor- 
mentosa,  Shorea  Robusta,  Echites  Antidy- 
senterica,  Bignonia  Suaveolens,  (Egle  Mar- 
melos,  and  Diospyrus  Glutinosa.  1  have 
omitted  the  Kutaja  (Echites)  and  the 
Tinduka  (Diospyrus). 

*  Here  we  meet  with  a  fresh  myth  to 
account  for  the  name  of  these  regions 
Malaja  is  probably  a  non-Aryan  word 
signifying  a  hilly  country:  taken  as  a 
Sanskrit  compound  it  means  sprung  from 
defilement.  The  word  Karusha  appears  to 
have  a  somewhat  similar  meaning. 


Whose  mighty  strength,  exceeding  vast, 
A  thousand  elephants,  surpassed, 
Was  to  fierce  Sunda,  lord  arid  head 
Of  all  the  demon  armies,  wed. 
From  her,  Lord  Indra's  peer  in  might 
Giant  Maricha  sprang  to  light: 
And  she,  a  constant  plague  and  pest, 
These  two  fair  realms  has  long  distressed, 
Now  dwelling  in  her  dark  abode 
A  league  away  she  bars  the  road : 
And  we,  O  Rama,  hence  must  go 
Where  lies  the  forest  of  the  foe. 
Now  on  thine  own  right  arm  rely, 

And  my  command  obey  : 
Smite  the  foul  monster  that  she  die, 

And  take  the  plague  away. 
To  reach  this  country  none 'may  dare, 

Fallen  from  its  old  estate, 
Which  she,  whose  fury  naught  can  bear, 

Has  left  so  desolate. 
And  now  my  truthful  tale  is  told 

How  with  accursed  sway 
The  spirit  plagued  thia  wood  of  old, 

And  ceases  not  to-day.' 


CANTO  XXVII. 
THE   BIRTH  OF  TADAKA'. 

When  thus  the  sage  without  a  peer 
Had  closed  that  story  strange  to  hear, 
Rama  again  the  saint  addressed 
To  set  one  lingering  doubt  at  rest  : 

*  O  holy  man/ 'tis  said  by  all 

That  spirits'  strength  is  weak  and  small  ; 
How  can  she  match,  of  power  so  sligut, 
A  thousand  elephants  in  might  1 ' 
And  Visvamitra  thus  replied 
To  Raghu's  son  the  glorified: 

*  Listen,  and  I  will  tell  thee  how 

She  gained  the  strength  that  arms  her  now. 

A  mighty  spirit  lived  of  yore  ; 

Suketu  was  the  name  he  bore. 

Childless  was  he,  and  free  from  crime 

In  rites  austere  he  passed  his  time. 

The  mighty  Sire  was  pleased  to  show 

His  favour,  and  a  child  bestow, 

Tadaka  named,  most  fair  to  see. 

A  pearl  among  the  maids  was  ahe, 

And  matched,f  or  such  was  Brahma's  dower, 

A  thousand  elephants  in  power. 

Nor  would  the  Eternal  Sire,  although 

The  spirit  longed,  a  son  bestow 

That  maid  in  beauty's  youthful  pride 

Was  given  to  Sunda  for  a  bride. 

Her  son,  Maricha  was  his  name. 

A  giant,  through  a  curse,  became. 

She  widowed,  dared  with  him  molest 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


Agasfya,1  of  all  saints  the  best. 
Inflamed  with  hunger's  wildest  rage, 
Roaring  she  rushed  upon  the  sage. 
When  the  great  hermit  saw  her  near, 
On  speeding  in  her  fierce  career, 
He  thus  pronounced  Maricha's  doom  : 
'A  giant's  form  and  shape  assume.' 
And  then,  by  mighty  anger  swayed, 
On  T^dakkthis  curse  he  laid  : 
'  Thy  present  form  and  semblance  quit, 
And  wear  a  shape  thy  mood  to  fit  ; 
Changed  form  and  feature  by  my  ban, 
A  fearful  thing  that  feeds  on  man.' 

She.  by  his  awful  curse  possessed, 
And  mad  with  rage  that  fills  her  breast, 
Has  on  this  land  her  fury  dealt 
Where  once  the  saint  Agastya  dwelt. 
Go,  R£ma,  smite  this  monster  dead, 
The  wicked  plague,  of  power  so  dread, 
And  further  by  this  deed  of  thine 
The  good  of  Brahmans  and  of  kine, 
Thy  hand  alone  can  overthrow, 
In  all  the  worlds,  this  impious  foe. 
!Nor  let  oompassion  lead  thy  mind 
To  shrink  from  blood  of  womankind  ; 
A  monarch's  son  must  ever  count 
The  people's  welfare  paramount. 
And  whether  pain  or  joy  he  deal 
Dare  all  things  for  his  subjects'  weal  • 
Yea,  if  the  deed  bring  praise  or  guilt, 
If  life  be  saved  or  blood  be  spilt  : 
Such,  through  all  time,  should  be  the  care 
Of  those  a  kingdom's  weight  who  bear. 
Slay,  Rama,  slay  this  impious  fiend. 
For  by  no  law  her  life  is  screened. 
So  Manthara,  as  bards  have  told, 
Virochan's  child,  was  slain  of  old 
By  Indra,  when  in  furious  hate 
She  longed  the  earth  to  devastate. 
So  Kavya's  mother,  Bhrigu's  wife, 
Who  loved  her  husband  as  her  life, 
When  Indra's  throne  she  sought  to  gain, 
By  Vishnu's  hand  of  yore  was  slain. 
By  these  a»d  hsgh-souled  kings  beside, 
Struck  down,  have  lawless  women  died/ 

>  'This  is  one  of  those  indefinable 
mythic  personages  who  are  found  in  the 
ancient  traditions  of  many  nations,  and 
in  whom  cosmogonical  or  astronomical 
notions  are  generally  figured.  Thus  it  is 
related  of  Agastya  'that  the  Vindhyan 
mountains  prostrated  themselves  before 
him;  and  yet  the  snme  Agastya  is  believed  to 
be  regent  of  the  star  Canopus.'  GORRESIO. 

He  will  appear  as  the  friend  and  helper 
of  R&ma  farther  ®n  in  the  poem. 


CANTO  XXVIII. 


THE  DEATH  OF  TA'DAKA'. 

Thus  spoke  the  saint  Each  vigorous  word 
The  noble  monarc-h's  offspring  heard, 
And,  reverent  hands  together  laid, 
His  answer  to  the  hermit  made  : 
'  My  sire  and  mother  bade  me  aye 
Thy  word,  O  mighty  Saint,,  obey. 
So  will  I,  O  most  glorious,  kill 
This  Tadaka  who  joys  in  ill, 
For  such  my  sire's*  and  such  thy  will* 
To  aid  with  mine  avenging  hand 
The  Brahmans,  kine, and  all  the  land- 
Obedient,  heart  and  soul,  I  stand.' 

Thus  spoke  the  tamer  of  the  foe, 
An-d  by  the  middle  grasped  his  bo\v. 
Strongly  he  drew  the  sounding  string 
That  made  the  distant  welkin  ring. 
Scared  by  the  mighty  clang  the  deer 
That  roamed  the  forest  shook  with  fear; 
And  Tadaka,  the  echo  heard, 
And  rose  in  haste  from  slumber  stirred. 
In  wild  amaze,  her  soul  aflame 
With  fury  toward  the  spat  she  came. 
When  that  foul  shape  of  evil  mien 
And  stature  vast  as  e'er  was  seen 
The  wrathful  son  of  Raghu  eyed, 
He  thus  unto  his  brother  cried: 
'  Her  dreadful  shape,  O  Lakshman,  see., 
A  form  to  shudder  at  and  flee. 
The  hideous  monster's  very  vie-w 
Would  cleave  a  timid  heart  in  two. 
Behold  the  demon  hard  to  smite, 
Defended  by  her  magic  might. 
My  hand  shall  stay  her  course  to-day, 
And  shear  her  nose  and  ears  away. 
No  heart  have  I  her  life  to  take  : 
[  spare  it  for  her  sex's  sake. 
My  will  is  but,  with  minished  force, 
To  check  her  in  her  evil  course.' 
While  thus  he  spoke,  by  rage  impelled 

Roaring  as  she  came  nigh, 
The  fiend  her  course  at  Rama  held 

With  huge  arms  tossed  on  high, 
Her,  rushing  on,  the  seer  assailed 

With  a  loud  cry  of  hate  ; 
And  thus  the  sons  of  Raghu  hailed  : 

'  Fight,  and  be  fortunate/ 
Then  from  the  earth  a  horrid  cloud' 

Of  dust  the  demon  raised, 
And  for  awhile  in  darkling  shroud 

Wrapt  Raghu's  sons  amazed. 
Then  calling  on  her  magic  power 

The  fearful  fight  to  wage, 
She  smote  him  with  a  stony  shower,. 

Till  Rama  burned  with  rage. 
Then  pouring  forth  kis  arrowy  raio 

That  stony  flood  to  sfcay, 


Canto  XXIX. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


41 


With  winged  darts,  as  she  charged  amain, 

He  shore  her  hands  away. 
As  Tadaka  still  thundered  near 

Thus  maimed  by  Rama's[blows, 
Lakshman  in  fury  severed  sheer 

The  monster's  ears  and  nose. 
Assuming  by  her  magic  skill 

A  fresh  and  fresh  disguise, 
She  tried  a  thousand  shapes  at  will, 

Then  vanished  from  their  eyes. 
When  Gadhi'sson  of  high  renown 
Still  saw  the  stony  rain  pour  down 
Upon  each  princely  warrior's  head, 
With  words  of  wisdom  thus  he  said  : 
'  Enough  of  mercy,  llama,  lest 
This  sinful  evil-working  pest, 
Disturber  of  each  holy  rite, 
Repair  by  magic  arts  her  might. 
Without  delay  the  riend  should  die, 
For,  see,  the  twilight  hour  is  nigh. 
And  at  the  joints  of  night  and  day 
Such  giant  foes  are  hard  to  slay.' 
Then  llama,  skilful  to  direct 

His  arrow  to  the  sound, 
With  shafts  the  mighty  demon  checked 

Who  rained  her  stones  around. 
She  sore  impeded  and  beset 
By  Rama  and  his  arrowy  net, 
Though  skilled  in  guile  and  magic  lore, 
Hushed  on  the  brothers  with  a  roar. 
Deformed,  terrific,  murderous,  dread, 
Swift  as  the  levin  on  she  sped, 
Like  cloudy  pile  in  autumn's  sky, 
Lifting  her  two  vast  arms  on  high, 
When  Rama  smote  her  with  a  dart, 
Shaped  like  a  crescent,  to  the  heart. 
Sore  wounded  by  the  shaft  that  came 
With  lightning  speed  and  surest  aim, 
Blood  spouting  from  her  mouth  and  side, 
She  fell  upon  the  earth  and  died. 
Soon  as  the  Lord  who  rules  the  sky 
Saw  the  dread  monster  lifeless  lie, 
He  called  aloud,  Well  done  !  well  done  ! 
And  the  Gods  honoured  Raghu's  son. 
Standing  in  heaven  the  Thousand-eyed, 
With  all  the  Immortals,  joying  cried  : 
«  Lift  up  thine  eyes,  O  Saint,  and  see 
The  Gods  and  Indra  nigh  to  thee. 
This  deed  of  Rama's  boundless  might 
Has  tilled  our  bosoms  with  delight. 
Now,  for  our  will  would  have  it  so, 
To  Raghu's  son  some  favour  show. 
Invest  him  with  the  power  which  naught 
But  penance  gains  and  holy  thought, 
Those  heavenly  arms  on  him  bestow 
To  thee  entrusted  long  ago 
By  great  Krisasva  best  of  kings, 
Son  of  the  Lord  of  living  things. 
More  tit  recipient  none  can  be 
Than  he  who  joys  in  following  thee  ; 


And  for  our  sakes  the  monarch's  seed 
Has  yet  to  do  a  mighty  deed.' 
He  spoke  ;  and  all  the  heavenly  train 

lejoicing  sought  their  homes  again, 
While  honour  to  the  saint  they  paid. 

Then  came  the  evening's  twilight  shade, 

Che  best  of  hermits  overjoyed 

Do  know  the  monstrous  fiend  destroyed, 

lislips  on  Rama's  forehead  pressed, 
And  thus  the  conquering  chief  addressed: 

O  Rama  gracious  to  the  sight, 

ETere  will  we  pass  the  present  night, 
And  with  the  morrow's  earliest  ray 

3end  to  my  hermitage  our  way,' 
The  son  of  Dasaratha  heard, 

Delighted,  Visvamitra's  word, 
And  as  he  bade,  that  night  he  spent 
In  Tadaka's  wild  wood,  content. 
And  the  grove  shone  that  happy  day, 

Freed  from  the  curse  that  on  it  lay, 
Like  Chaitraratha1  fair  and  gay. 

CANTO  XXIX. 


THE  CELESTIAL  ARMS. 

That  night  they  slept  and  took  their  rest; 
And  then  the  mighty  saint  addressed, 
With  pleasant  smile  and  accents  mild 
These  words  to  Raghu's  princely  child  : 
'  Well  pleased  am  I.    High  fate  be  thine, 
Thou  scion  of  a  royal  line. 
Now  will  I,  for  I  love  thee  so, 
All  heavenly  arms  on  thee  bestow, 
Victor  with  these,  whoe'er  oppose, 
Thy  hand  shall  conquer  all  thy  foes, 
Though  Gods  and  spirits  of  the  air, 
Serpents  and  fiends,  the  conflict  dare. 
I'll  give  thee  as  a  pledge  of  love 
The  mystic  arms  they  use  above, 
For  worthy  thou  to  have  revealed 
The  weapons  I  have  learnt  to  wield. * 


1  The  famous  pleasure -garden   of   Ku- 
vera  the  God  of  Wealth. 

2  '  The  whole   of  this    Canto  together 
with  the  following  one,  regards  the  belief, 
formerly  prevalent  in  India,  that  by  virtue 
of  certain  spells,  to  be  learnt   and  mutter- 
ed,  secret    knowledge    and   superhuman 
powers  might  be  acquired.    To   this   the 
poet  has  already  alluded   in   Canto   xxiii 
These  incorporeal  weapons  are  partly  re- 
presented according    to  the    fashion    o1 
those  ascribed  to  the  Gods  and  the  differ 
ent  orders  of  demi-gods,   partly   are  th< 
mere  creations  of  fancy;  and  it  would  no 
be  easy  to  say  what  idea  the  poet  had  o 
them  in  his  own  mind,  or  what   powers  h 
meant  to  assign  to  each.'    SCHLEGEL. 


42 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


First,  son  of  Raghu,  shall  be  thine 
The  arm  of  Vengeance,  strong,  divine  : 
The  arm  of  Fate,  the  arm  of  Right, 
And  Vishnu's  arm  of  awful  might : 
That,  before  which  no  foe  can  stand, 
The  thunderbolt  of  Indra's  hand  ; 
And  Diva's  trident,  sharp  and  dread, 
And  that  dire  weapon  Brahma's  Head. 
And  two  fair  clubs,  O  royal  child, 
One  Charmer  and  one  Pointed  styled 
With  flame  of  lambent  fire  aglow, 
On  thee,  O  Chieftain,  I  bestow. 
And  Fate's  dread  net  and  Justice1  noose 
That  none  may  conquer,  for  thy  use  : 
And  the  great  cord,  renowned  of  old, 
Which  Varun  ever  loves  to  hold. 
Take  these  two  thunderbolts,  which  I 
Have  got  for  thee,  the  Moist  and  Dry. 
Here  Siva's  dart  to  thee  I  yield, 
And  that  which  Vishnu  wont  to  wield. 
I  give  to  thee  the  arm  of  Fire, 
Desired  by  all  and  named  the  Spire. 
To  thee  1  grant  the  Wind-God's  dart, 
Earned  Crusher,  O  thou  pure  of  heart. 
This  arm,  the  Horse's  Head,  accept, 
And  this,  the  Curlew's  Bill  yclept, 
And  these  two  spears,  the  best  e'er  flew, 
Named  the  Invincible  and  True. 
And  arms  of  fiends  1  make  thine  own, 
Skull-wreath  and  mace  that  smashes  bone. 
And  Joyous,  which  the  spirits  bear, 
Great  weapon  of  the  sons  of  air. 
Brave  offspring  of  the  best  of  lords, 
1  give  thee  now  the  Gem  of  swords, 
And  offer  next,  thine  hand  to  arm, 
The  heavenly  bards'  beloved  charm. 
Now  with  two  arms  1  thee  invest 
Of  never-ending  Sleep  and  Rest, 
With  weapons  of  the  Sun  and  Rain, 
And  those  that  dry  and  burn  amain  ; 
And  strong  Desire  with  conquering  touch, 
The  dart  that  Kama  prizes  much. 
I  give  the  arm  of  shadowy  powers . 
T  lat  bleeding  flesh  of  men  devours. 
I  give  the  arms  the  God  of  Gold 
And  giant  fiends  exult  to  hold. 
This  smites  the  foe  in  battle-strife, 
And  takes  his  fortune,  strength,  and  life. 
I  give  the  arms  called  False  and  True, 
'And  great  Illusion  give  I  too  ; 
The  hero's  arm  called  Strong  and  Bright 
That  spoils  the  foeman's  strength  in  fight. 
I  give  thee  as  a  priceless  boon 
The  Dew,  the  weapon  of  the  Moon, 
And  add  the  weapon,  deftly  planned, 
That  strengthens  Visvakarma's  hand. 
The  Mortal  dart  whose  point  is  chill, 
And  Slaughter,  ever  sure  to  kill ; 
All  these  and  other  arms,  for  thou 
Art  very  dear,  I  give  thee  now. 
Keceive  these  weapons  from  my  hand, 


Son  of  the  noblest  in  the  land.' 

Facing  the  east,  the  glorious  saint 
Pure  from  all  spot  of  earthly  taint, 
To  Rama,  with  delighted  mind, 
That  noble  host  of  spells  consigned. 
He  taught  the  arms,  whose  lore  is  won 
Hardly  by  Gods,  to  Raghu's  son. 
He  muttered  low  the  spell  whose  call 
Summons  those  arms  and  rules  them  all, 
And,  each  in  visible  form  and  frame, 
Before  the  monarch's  son  they  came. 
They  stood  and  spoke  in  reverent  guise 
To  Kama  with  exulting  cries  : 
*  O  noblest  child  of  Raghu,  see, 
Thy  ministers  and  thralls  are  we,' 

With  joyful  heart  and  eager  hand 
Rama  received  the  wondrous  band, 
And  thus  with  words  of  welcome  cried: 
'Aye  present  to  my  will  abide.' 
Then  hasted  to  the  saint  to  pay 
Due  reverence,  and  pursued  his  way. 


CxlNTO  XXX. 


THE  MYSTERIOUS   POWERS.* 

Pure,  with  glad  cheer  and  joyful  breast, 
Of  those  mysterious  arms  possessed, 
Rama,  now  passing  on  his  way, 
Thus  to  the  saint  began  to  say  : 

*  Lord  of  these  mighty  weapons,  I 

Can  scarce  be   harmed  by  Gods  on  high  ; 

Now,  best  of  saints,  I  long  to  gain 

The  powers  that  can  these  arms  restrain.' 

Thus  spoke  the  prince.    The  sage  austere, 

True  to  his  vows,  from  evil  clear, 

Called  forth  the  names   of  those  great 

charms 
Whose  powers  restrain  the  deadly  arms. 

*  Receive  thou  True  and  Truly-famed, 
And  Bold  and  Fleet :  the  weapons  named 

i  'In  Sanskrit  Sanhdra,  a  word  which 
has  various  significations  but  the  primary 
meaning  of  which  is  the  act  of  seizing.  A 
magical  power  seems  to  be  implied  of  em- 
ploying the  weapons  when  and  where 
required.  The  remarks  I  have  made  on 
the  preceding  Canto  apply  with  still 
greater  force  to  this.  The  M^S.  greatly 
vary  in  the  enumeration  of  these  Sanhdras, 
and  it  is  not  surprising  that  copyists  have 
incorrectly  written  the  names  which  they 
did  not  well  understand.  The  commen- 
tators throw  no  light  upon  the  subject.' 
SCHLEGEL.  I  have  taken  the  liberty  o£ 
omitting  four  of  these  which  Schlegel 
translates  'Scleromphalum,  Euomphalum, 
Centiventrem,  and  Chrysomphalum,' 


Canto  XXXT. 


THE  RlMAYAN. 


43 


Warder  and  Progress,  swift  of  pace, 
Averted-head  and  Drooping-face; 
The  8een,  and  that  which  Secret  flies  ; 
The  weapon  of  the  thousand  eyes  ; 
Ten-headed,  and  the  Hundred-faced, 
Star-gazer  and  the  Layer- waste  : 
The  Omen-bird,  the  Pure-from-sp>t, 
The  pair  that  wake  and  slumber  not :' 
The  Fiendish,  that  which  shakes  amain, 
The  Strong-of-Hand,  the  Rich-in-Gain  : 
The  Guardian,  and  the  Close-allied, 
The  Gaper,  Love,  and  Golden-side  : 
O  Raghu's  son  receive  all  these, 
Bright  ones  that  wear  what  forms  they 

^please ; 

Krisasva's  mystic  sons  are  they, 
And  worthy  thou  their  might  to  sway.' 
With  joy  the  pride  of  Raghu's  race 
Keceived  the  hermit's  proffered  grace, 
Mysterious  arms,  to  check  and  stay, 
Or  smite  the  foeman  in  the  fray. 
Then,  all  with  heavenly  forms  endued, 
Nigh  came  the  wondrous  multitude. 
Celestial  in  their  bright  attire 
Some  shone  like  coals  of  burning  fire  ; 
Some  were  like  clouds  of  dusky  smoke  ; 
And  suppliant  thus  they  sweetly  spoke  : 
'  Thy  thralls,  O  Rama,  here  we  stand  : 
Command,  we  pray,  thy  faithful  band.' 
'Depart,'  he  cried/' where  each  may  list, 
But  when  I  call  you  to  assist, 
Be  present  to  my  mind  with  speed, 
And  aid  me  in  the  hour  of  need.' 
To  Rama  then  they  lowly  bent, 
And  round  him  in  due  reverence  went, 
To  his  command,  they  answered,  Yea, 
And  as  they  came  so  went  away. 
When  thus  the  arms  had  homeward  flown, 
With  pleasant  words  and  modest  tone, 
E'en  as  he  walked,  the  prince  began 
To  question  thus  the  holy  man  : 
«  What  cloudlike  wood  is  that  which  near 
The  mountain's  side  I  see  appear? 
O  tell  me,  for  I  long  to  know  ; 
Its  pleasant  aspect  charms  me  so. 
Its  glades  are  full  of  deer  at  play, 
And  sweet  birds  sing  on  every  spray. 
Past  is  the  hideous  wild  ;  I  feel 
So  sweet  a  tremor  o'er  me  steal, 
And  hail  with  transport  fresh  and  new 
A  land  that  is  so  fair  to  view. 
Then  tell  me  all,  thou  holy  Sage, 
And  whose  this  pleasant  hermitage 
In  which  those  wicked  ones  delight 
To  mar  and  kill  each  holy  rite. 
Aud  with  foul  heart  and  evil  deed 
Thy  sacrifice,  great  Saint,  impede. 
To  whom,  O  Sage,  belongs  this  land 
In  which  thine  altars  ready  stand  ? 
'Tis  mine  to  guard  them,  and  to  slay 
The  giants  who  the  rites  would  stay. 


All  this,  0  best  of  saints,  I  burn 

From  thine  own  lips,  my  lord,  to  learn.' 


CANTO  XXXI. 


THE  PERFECT  HERMITAGE, 

Thus  spoke  the  pri  nee  of  boundless  might, 
And  thus  replied  the  anchorite  : 
'  Chief  of  the  mighty  arm,  of  yore 
Lord  Vishni  whom  the  Gods  adore, 
For  holy  thought  and  rites  austere 
Of  penance  made  his  dwelling  here. 
This  ancient  wood  was  called  of  old 
Grove  of  the  Dwarf,  the  mighty-souled, 
And  when  perfection  he  attained 
The  grove  the  name  of  Perfect  gained. 
Bali  of  yore,  Virochan's  son, 
Dominion  over  Indra  won, 
And   when  with  power  his  proud  heart 

swelled, 

O'er  the  three  worlds  his  empire  held. 
When  Bali  then  began  a  rite, 
The  Gods  and  Indra  in  affrght 
Sought  Vishnu  in  this  place  of  rest, 
And  thus  with  prayers  the  God  addressed: 
'Bali.  Virochan's  mighty  son, 
His  sacrifice  has  now  begun: 
Of  boundless  wealth,  that  demon  king 
Is  bounteous  to  each  living  thing. 
Though  suppliants  flock  from  every  side 
The  suit  of  none  is  e'er  denied. 
Whatever,  where'er  howe'er  the  call, 
He  hears  the  suit  and  gives  to  all, 
Now  with  thine  own  illusive  art 
Perform,  O  Lord,  the  helper's  part : 
Assume  a  dwarfish  form,  and  thus 
From  fear  and  danger  rescue  us.'i 

Thus  in  their  dread  the  Immortals  sued : 
The  God  a  dwarflike  shape  indued  :2 
Before  Virochan's  son  he  came, 
Three  steps  of  land  his  only  claim. 
The  boon  obtained,  in  wondrous  wise 
Lord  Vishnu's  form  increased  in  size; 
Through  all  the  worlds,  tremendous,  vast, 
God  of  the  Triple  Step,  he  passed.3 
The  whole  broad  earth  from  side  to  side 
He  measured  with  one  mighty  stride. 
Spanned  with  the  next  the  firmament, 
And  with  thethird  through  heaven  he  went. 

i  I  omit,  after  this  line,  eight  slakes 
which,  as  Schlegel  allows,  are  quite  out 
of  place. 

*  This  is  the  fifth  of  the  avatars,  des- 
cents or  incarnations  of  Vishnu. 

3  This  is  a  solar  allegory.'  Vishnu  is 
the  sun,  the  three  steps  being  his  rising, 
culmination,  and  setting. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


tioolc  I. 


Thus  was  the  king  of  demons  hurled 
By  Vishnu  to  the  nether  world, 
And  thus  the  universe  restored 
To  Indra's  rule,  its  ancient  lord. 
And  now  because  the  immortal  God 
This  spot  in  dwarflike  semblance  trod, 
The  grove  has  aye  been  loved  by  me 
For  reverence  of  the  devotee. 
But  demons  haunt  it,  prompt  to  stay 
Each  holy  offering  I  would  pay. 
Be  thine,  O  lion-lord,  to  kill 
These  giants  that  delight  in  ill. 
This  da}-,  beloved  child,  our  feet 
Shall  rest  within  the  calm  retreat  : 
And  know,  thou  chief  of  Raghu's  line, 
My  hermitage  is  also  thine.' 

He  spoke  ;  and  soon  the  anchorite, 
With  joyous  looks  that  beamed  delight, 
With  Rama  and  his  brother  stood 
Within  the  consecrated  wood. 
Soon  as  they  saw  the  holy  man, 
With  one  accord  together  ran 
The  dwellers  in  the  sacred  shade, 
And  to  the  saint  their  reverence  paid, 
And  offered  water  for  his  feet, 
The  gift  of  honour  and  a  seat ; 
And  next  with  hospitable  care 
They  entertained  the  princely  pair, 
The  royal  tamers  of  their  foes 
Rested  awhile  in  sweet  repose: 
Then  to  the  chief  of  hermits  sued 
Standing  in  suppliant  attitude  : 
*  Begin,  O  best  of  saints,  we  pray, 
Initiatory  rites  to-day. 
This  Perfect  Grove  shall  be  anew 
Made  perfect,  and  thy  words  be  true.' 

Then,  thus  addressed,  the  holy  man, 
The  very  glorious  sage,  began 
The  high  preliminary  rite. 
Restraining  sense  and  appetite. 
Calmly  the  youths   that  night  reposed, 
And  rose  when  morn  her  light  disclosed, 
Their  morning  worship  paid,  and  took 
Of  lustral  water  from  the  brook. 
Thus  purified  they  breathed  the  prayer, 
Then  greeted  Visvamitra  where 
As  celebrant  he  sate  beside 
The  flame  with  sacred  oil  supplied. 

CANTO  XXXII. 


SACRIFICE. 

That  conquering  pair,  of  royal  race, 
Skilled  to  observe  due  time  and  place, 
To  Kusik's  hermit  son  addressed, 
In  timely  words,  their  meet  request : 
'  When  must  we,  lord,  we  pray  thee  tell, 
Those  Rovers  of  the  Night  repel  jf 


Speak,  lest  we  let  the  moment  fly, 
And  pass  the  due  occasion  by.' 
Thus  longing  for  the  strife,  they  prayed, 
And  thus  the  hermits  answer  made  : 
Till  the  fifth  day  be  come  and  past, 
O  Raghu's  sons,  your  watch  must  last. 
The  saint  his  Diksha1  has  begun, 
And  all  that  time  will  speak  to  none.' 
Soon  as  the  steadfast  devotees 
Had  made  reply  in  words  like  these, 
The  youths  began,  disdaining  sleep, 
Six  days  and  nights  their  watch  to  keep. 
The  warrior  pair  who  tamed  the  foe, 
Unrivalled  benders  of  the  bow, 
Kept  watch  and  ward  unwearied  still 
To  guard  the  saint  from  scathe  and  ill. 
*  Twas  now  the  sixth  returning  day, 
The  hour  foretold  had  past  away. 
Then  Rama  cried  :  '  O  Lakshman,  now 
Firm,  watchful,  resolute  be  thou. 
The  fiends  as  yet  have  kept  afar 
From  the  pure  grove  in  which  we  are  ; 
Yet  waits  us,  ere  the  day  shall  close, 
Dire  battle  with  the  demon  foes.' 

While  thus  spoke  Rama  borne  away 
By  longing  for  the  deadly  fray, 
See  !  bursting  from  the  altar  came 
The  sudden  glory  of  the  flame. 
Round  priest  and  deacon,  and  upon 
Grass,  ladles,  flowers,  the  splendour  shone, 

And  the  high  rite,  in  order  due, 
With  sacred  texts  began  anew. 
But  then  a  loud  and  fearful  roar 

Re-echoed  through  the  sky  ; 
And  like  vast  clouds  that  shadow  o'er 

The  heavens  in  dark  July, 
Involved  in  gloom  of  magic  might 

Two  fiends  rushed  on  amain, 
Marie  ha,  Rover  of  the  Night, 

Suvahu,  and  their  train. 
As  on  they  came  in  wild  career 

Thick  blood  in  rain  they  shed; 
And  Rama  saw  those  things  of  fear 

Impending  overhead. 
Then  soon  as  those  accursed  two 

Who  showered  down  blood  he  spied, 
Thus  to  his  brother  brave  and  true 

Spoke  Rama  lotus-eyed  : 
*Now,Lakshman,thou  these  fiends  shalt  see, 

Man-eaters,  foul  of  mind, 
Before  my  mortal  weapon  flee 

Like  clouds  before  the  wind.' 
He  spoke.  An  arrow,  swift  as  thought, 

Upon  his  bow  he  pressed, 
And  smote,  to  utmost  fury  wrought, 

Marie  ha  on  the  breast. 
Deep  in  his  flesh  the  weapon  lay 

Winged  by  the  mystic  spell, 


1  Certain  ceremonies  preliminary  to  a 
sa  crifice. 


Canto*  XXXIII. 


THE  RAMADAN. 


45 


And,  hurled  a  hundred  leagues  "a  way, 

In  ocean's  flood  he  fell. 
Then  Rama,  when  he  saw  the  foe 

Convulsed  and  mad  witli  pain 
Neath  the  chill-pointed  weapon's  blow, 

To  Lakshman  spoke  again  : 
'See,  Lakshman,  see  !  this  mortal  dart 

That  strikes  a  numbing  chill, 
Hath  struck  him  senseless  with  the  smart, 

But  left  him  breathing  still. 
But  these  who  love  the  evil  way, 

And  drink  the  blood  they  spill, 
Kejoicing  holy  rites  to  stay, 

Fierce  plagues,  my  hand  shall  kill.' 
He  seized  another  shaft,  the  best, 

Aglow  with  living  flame; 
It  struck  Suvahu  on  the  chest, 

And  dead  to  earth  he  came. 
Again  a  dart,  the  Wind-God's  own, 

Upon  his  string  he  laid, 
And  all  the  demons  were  o'erthrown, 

The  saints  no  more  afraid. 
When  thus  the  fiends  were  slain  in   light, 
Disturbers  of  each  holy  rite, 
Due  honour  by  the  saints  was  paid 
To  Rama  for  'his  wondrous  aid  : 
So  Indra  is  adored  when  he 
Has  won  some  glorious  victory. 
Sucaess^at  last  the  rite  had  crowned, 
And  Visvaniitra  gazed  around, 
And  seeing  every  side  at  rest, 
The  son  of  Raghu  thus  addressed  : 
*  My  joy.  O  Prince,  is  now  complete  : 

Thou  hast  obeyed  my  will : 
Perfect  before,  this  calm  retreat 

In  now  more  perfect  still.' 


CANTO  XXXIII. 


THE  SONE. 

Their  task  achieved,  the  princes  spent 
That  night  with  joy  and  full  content. 
Ere  yet  the  dawn  was  well  displayed 
Their  morning  rites  they  duly  paid, 
And  sought,  while  yet  the  light  was  faint, 
The  hermits  and  the  mighty  saint. 
They  greeted  first  that  holy  sire 
Resplendent  like  the  burning  tire, 
And  then  with  noble  word*  began 
Their  sweet  speech  to  the  sainted  man  : 
'  Here  stand,  O  Lord,  thy  servants  true  : 
Command  what  thou  wouldst  have  us  do,' 

The  saints,  by  Visvaniitra  led, 
To  Rama  thus  in  answer  said  ; 
*  Janak  the  king  who  rules  the  land 
Of  fertile  Mithila  has  planned 
A  noble  sacrifice,  and  we 
Will  thither  go  the  rite  to  see. 


Thou,  Prince  of  men,  with  us  shalt  go, 
And  there  behold  tiie  wondrous^bow, 
Terrific,  vast,  of  matchless  might, 
Which,  splendid  at  the  famous  rite, 
Tae  Gods  assembled  gave  the  king. 
No  giant,  fiend,  or  God  can  string 
That  gem  of  bows,  no  heavenly  bard  ; 
Then,  sure,  for  m  in  the  task  were  hard* 
When  lords  of  earth  have  longed  to  know 
The  virtue  of  that  wondrous  bow, 
The  strongest  sons  of  kings  in  vain 
Have  tried  the  mighty  cord  to  strain. 
This  famous  bow  thou  there  shalt  view, 
And  wondrous  rites  shalt  witness  too. 
Tiie  high-souled  king  who  lords  it  o'er 
Tue  realm  of  iMithila  of  yore 
Gained  from  the  God*  this  bow,  the  prica 
Of  his  imperial  sacrifice. 
Won  by  the  rite  the  glorious  prize 
Still  in  the  royal  palace  lies, 
Laid  up  in  oil  of  precious  scent 
With  aloe-wood  and  i no 3 rise  blent.' 

Then  Rama  answering,  Be  it  so, 
Made  ready  with  the  rest  to  go. 
The  saint  himself  was  now  prepared, 
Bat  ere  beyond  tiie  grove  he  fared, 
He  turned  him  and  in  words  like  these 
Addressed  the  sylvan  deities  : 
*  Farewell !  each  holy  rite  complete, 
I  leave  the  hermits'  perfect  seat  : 
To  Ganga's  northern  shore  I  go 
Beneatli  Himalaya's  peaks  of  snow.' 
With  reverent  steps  he  paced  around 
The  limits  of  the  holy  ground, 
And  then  the  mighty  saint  set  fo'-th. 
And  took  his  journey  to  the  north. 
His  pupils,  deep  in  Scripture's  page, 
Followed  behind  the  holy  sage, 
And  servants  from  the  sacred  grove 
A  hundred  wains  for  convoy  drove. 
The  very  birds  that  winged  that  air, 
The  very  deer  that  harboured  there, 
Forsook  the  glade  and  leaf  v  brake 
And  followed  for  the  hermit's  sake. 
They  travelled  far,  till  in  the  west 
The  sun  was  speeding  to  his  rest, 
And  made,  their  portioned  journey  o'er, 
Their  halt  on  Nona's1  distant  shore. 
The  hermits  bathed  when  sank  the  sun, 
And  every  rite  was  duly  done, 
Oblations  paid  to  Fire,  and  then 
Sate  round  their  chief  the  holy  men. 
Rama  and  Lakshman  lowly  bowed 
]n  reverence  to  the  hermit  crowd, 
And  Rama,  having  sate  him  down 
Before  the  saint  of  pure  renown, 

1  A  river  which  rises  in  Bidelcund  and 
falls  into  the  Ganges  near  Patna.  It  is 
called  also  Hiraiiyni-dliu,  G  )lden- armed, 
and  Hiranyavdha,  Auriferous. 


46 


THE  HAM  A  YAN. 


Boole  I. 


With  humble  palms  together  laid 
His  eager  supplication  made  : 
'  What  country,  O  my  lord,  is  this, 
Fair-smiling  iii  her  wealth  and  bliss? 
Deign  fully,  0  thou  mighty  Seer, 
To  tell  me,  for  I  long  to  hear.' 
Moved  by  the  prayer  of  Rama,  he 
Told  forth  the  country's  history. 

CANTO  XXXIV. 
BE  AH  MAD  ATT  A. 

*  A  king  of  Brahma's  seed  who  bore 
The  name  of  Kusa  reigned  of  yore. 
Just,  faithful  to  his  vows,  and  true, 
He  held  the  good  in  honour  due. 
His  bride,  a  queen  of  noble  name, 
Of  old  Vidarbha's1  monarchs  came. 
Like  their  own  father,  children  four, 
All  valiant  boys,  the  lady  bore. 

In  glorious  deeds  each  nerve  they  strained, 
And  well  their  Warrior  part  sustained. 
To  them  most  just,  and  true,  and  brave, 
Their  father  thus  his  counsel  gave  : 

*  Beloved  children,  ne'er  forget 
Protection  is  a  prince's  debt : 
The  noble  work  at  once  begin, 
High  virtue  and  her  fruits  to  win/ 
The  youths,  to  all  the  people  dear, 
Deceived  his  speech  with  willing  ear  ; 
And  each  went  forth  his  several  way, 
Foundations  of  a  town  to  lay. 
Kusamba,  prince  of  high  renown, 
Was  builder  of  Kausambi's  town, 
And  Kusanabha,  just  and  wise, 
Bade  high  Mahodaya's  towers  arise. 
Amurtarajas  chose  "to  dwell 

In  Dharmaranya's  citadel, 
And  Vasu  bade  his  city  fair 
The  mime  of  Girivraja  bear.2 
This  fertile  spot  whereon  we  stand 
Was  once  the  high-souled  Vasu's  land. 
Behold  !  as  round  we  turn  our  eyes, 

1  The  modern  Berar. 

z  According  to  the  Bengal  recension  the 
first  (.Kusamba)  is  called  KusAsva,  and  his 
city  Kaustisvi.  This  name  does  not  recur 
elsewhere.  The  reading  of  the  northern 
recension  is  confirmed  by  Fo6  Koug  Ki ; 
p.  385,  where  the  city  Klaoahuugmi  is  men- 
tioned. It  lay  500  lis  to  the  South-west  of 
Praydgq,,  on  the  south  bank  of  the  Jumna. 
Mahoaaya  is  another  name  of  Kany:ikubja; 
JDtiartnaranya,  the  wood  to  which  the 
God  of  Justice  is  said  to  have  fled  through 
fear  of  Soma  the  Moon-God  was  in  Ma- 

gadh.    Girivraja  was  in  the  same  neigh- 
ourhood,  See  Lassen's  I.  A.  Vol,  I,  p.  b(M. 


Five  lofty  mountain  peaks  arise. 

See  !  bursting  from  her  parent  hill, 

iSumagadhi,  a  lovely  rill, 

Bright  gleaming  as  she  flows  between 

The  mountain^-,  like  a  wreath  is  seen, 

Arid  then  through   Magadh's   plains   and 

groves 

With  many  a  fair  mseander  roves. 
And  this  was  Vasu's  old  domain, 
The  fertile  Magadh's  bn  ad  champaign, 
Which  smiling  h'elds  of  tilth  adorn 
And  diadem  with  golden  corn. 

The  oueen  Ghritachi,  nymph  most  fair, 
Married  to  Kusanabha,  bare 
A  hundred  daughters,  lovely -faced, 
With  every  charm  and  beauty  graced. 
It  chanced  the  maidens,  bright  and  gay 
As  lightning-flashes  on  a  day 
Of  rain-time,  to  the  garden  went 
With  song  and  play  and  merriment, 
And  there  in  gay  attire  they  strayed, 
And  danced,  and  laughed,  and  sang,  and 

played. 

The  God  of  Wind  who  roves  at  will 
All  places,  as  he  lists,  to  fill, 
Saw  the  young  maidens  dancing  there, 
Of  faultless  shape  and  mien  most  fair. 

*  I  love  you  all,  sweet  girls,'  he  cried, 
And  each  shall  be  my  darling  bride. 
Forsake,  forsake  your  mortal  lot, 
And  gain  a  life  that  withers  not. 

A  tickle  thing  is  youth's  brief  span, 
And  more  than  all  in  mortal  man. 
Receive  unending  youth,  and  be 
Immortal,  O  my  loves,  with  me.' 

The  hundred  girls,  to  wonder  stirred, 
The  wooing  of  the  Wind-God  heard, 
Laughed,  as  a  jest,  his  suit  aside, 
And  with  one  voice  they  thus  replied  : 

*  O  mighty  Wind,  free  spirit  who 

All  life  pervadest,  through  and  through, 
Thy  wondrous  power  we  maidens  know  ; 
Then  wherefore  wilt  thou  mock  us  so  ? 
Our  sire  is  Kusanabha,  King  ; 
And  we,  forsooth,  have  charms  to  bring 
A  God  to  woo  us  from  the  skies  ; 
But  honour  first  we  maidens  prize. 
Far  may  the  hour,  we  pray,  be  hence, 
When  we,  O  thou  of  little  sense, 
Our  truthful  father's  choice  refuse, 
Arid  for  ourselves  our  husbands  choose. 
Our  honoured  sire  our  lord  we  deem, 
He  is  to  us  a  God  supreme, 
And  they  to  whom  his  high  decree 
May  give  us  shall  our  husbands  be.' 

He  heard  the  answer  they  returned, 
And  mighty  rage  within  him  burned. 
On  each  fair  maid  a  blast  he  sent  : 
Each  stately  form  he  bowed  and  bent. 
Bent  double  by  the  Wind -God's  ire 
They  sought  the  palace  of  their  sire, 


Canto  XXXIV. 


THE  RAMAYAN, 


47 


There  fell  upon  the  ground  with  sighs, 
While  tears  and  shame  were  in  their  eyes. 
The  king  himself,  with  troubled  brow, 
Saw  his  dear  girls  so  fair  but  now, 
A  mournful  sight  all  bent  and  bowed, 
And  grieving  thus  he  cried  aloud  : 
« What  fate  is  this,  and  what  the  cause  ? 
What  wretch  has  scorned  all  heavenly  laws? 
Who   thus  your  forms   could  curve   and 

break? 
You  struggle,  but  no  answer  make.' 

They  heard  the  speech  of  that  wise  king 
Of  their  misfortune  questioning. 
Again  the  hundred  maidens  sighed, 
Touched  with  their  heads  his  feet,and  cried: 
«  The  God  of  Wind,  pervading  space, 
Would  bring  on  us  a  foul  disgrace, 
And  choosing  folly's  evil  way 
From  virtue's  path  in  scorn  would  stray. 
But  we  in  words  like  these  reproved 
The  God  of  Wind  whom  passion  moved  : 
*  Farewell,  0  Lord  !  A  sire  have  we, 
No  women  uncontrolled  and  free. 
Go,  and  our  sire's  consent  obtain 
If  thou  our  maiden  hands  wouldstgain. 
No  self-dependent  life  we  live  : 
]f  we  offend,  our  fault  forgive.' 
'  But  led  by  folly  as  a  slave, 
He  would  not  hear  the  rede  we  gave, 
And  even  as  we  gently  spoke 
We  felt  the  Wind-God's  crushing  stroke.' 

The  pious  king,  with  grief  distressed, 
The  noble  hundred  thus  addressed: 
'  With  patience,  daughters,  bear  your  fate, 
Yours  was  a  deed  supremely  great 
When  with  one  mind  you  kept  from  shame 
The  honour  of  your  father's  name. 
Patience,  when  men  their  anger  vent, 
Is  woman's  praise  and  ornament  ; 
Yet  when  the  Gods  inflict  the  blow 
Hard  is  it  to  support  the  woe. 
Patience,  my  girls,  exceeds  all  price : 
'Tis  alnit*,  and  truth,  and  sacrifice. 
Patience  is  virtue,  patience  fame  : 
Patience  upholds  this  earthly  frame. 
And  now,  I  think,  is  come  the  time 
To  wed  you  in  vour  maiden  prime. 
Now,  daughters,  go  where'er  you  will  : 
Thoughts  for  your  good  my  mind  shall  fill.' 

The  maidens  went,  consoled,  away  : 
The  best  of  kings,  that  very  day, 
Summoned  his  ministers  of  state 
About  their  marriage  to  debate. 
Since  then,  because  the  Wind-God  bent 
The  damsels'  forms  for  punishment, 
That  royal  town  is  known  to  fame 
By  Kanyakubja's1  borrowed  name. 


1  That  is,  the  City  of  the  Bent  Virgins, 
the  modern  Kanauj  or  Canouge, 


There  lived  a  sage  called  Chuli  then, 
Devoutest  of  the  sons  of  men  ; 
His  days  in  penance  rites  he  spent, 
A  glorious  saint,  most  continent. 
To  him  absorbed  in  tasks  austere 
The  child  of  Urmila  drew  near, 
Sweet  Sornada,  the  heavenly  maid 
And  lent  the  saint  her  pious  aid. 
Long  time  near  him  the  maiden  spent, 
And  served  him  meek  and  reverent, 
Till  the  great  hermit,  pleased  with  her, 
Thus  spoke  unto  his  minister  : 

*  Grateful  am  I  for  all  thy  care  : 
Ble?«t  maiden,  speak,  thy  wish  declare.1 
The  sweet-voiced  nymph  rejoiced  to  see 
The  favour  of  the  devotee, 

And  to  that  eloquent  old  man, 
Most  eloquent  she  thus  began  : 

*  Thou  hast,  by  heavenly  grace  sustained, 
Close  union  with  the  Godhead  gained. 

1  long,  O  Saint,  to  see  a  son 

By  force  of  holy  penance  won. 

Unwed,  a  maiden  life  I  live  : 

A  son  to  me,  thy  suppliant,  give.' 

The  saint  with  favour  heard  her  prayer, 

And  gave  a  son  exceeding  fair. 

Him,  Chuli's  spiritual  child, 

His  mother  Brahmadatta1  styled. 

King  Brahmadatta,  rich  and  great, 

In  Kampili  maintained  his  state, 

Ruling,  like  Indra  in  his  bliss, 

His  fortunate  metropolis. 

King  Kusanabha  planned  that  he 

His  hundred  daughters'  lord  should  be. 

To  him,  obedient  to  his  call, 

The  happy  monarch  gave  them  all. 

Like  Indra  then  he  took  the  hand 

Of  every  maiden  of  the  band. 

Soon  as  the  hand  of  each  young  maid 

In  Brahmadatta's  palm  was  laid, 

Deformity  and  cares  away, 

She  shone  in  beauty  bright  and  gay. 

Their  freedom  from  the  Wind-God's  might 

Saw  Kusanabha  with  delight. 

Each  glance  that  on  their  forms  he  threw 

Filled  him  with  raptures  ever  new. 

Then  when  the  rites  were  all  complete, 

With  highest  marks  of  honour  meet 

The  bridegroom  with  his  brides  he  sent 

To  his  great  seat  of  government. 

The  nymph  received  with  pleasant  speech 
Her  daughters  ;  and,  embracing  each, 
Upon  their  forms  she  fondly  gazed, 
And  royal  Kusanabha  praised. 

1  Literally,  Given  by  Brahma  or  dev- 
out contemplation. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Hook  I. 


CANTO  XXXV. 


LINEAGE. 


*The  rites  were  o'er,  the  maids  were  wed, 

The  bridegroom  to  his  home  was  sped. 

The  sonless  monarch  bade  prepare 

A  sacrifice  to  gain  an  heir. 

Then  Kusa,  Brahma's  son,  appeared, 

And  thus  King  Kusanabha  cheered  : 

'  Thou  shalt,  my  child,  obtain  a  son 

Like  thine  own  self,  O  holy  one. 

Through  him  for  ever,  Gadhi  named, 

Shalt  thou  in  all  the  worlds  be  famed,' 

*  He  spoke,  and  vanished  from  the  sight 

To  Brahma's  world  of  endless  light. 

Time  fled,  arid,  as  the  saint  foretold, 

Gadhi  was  born,  the  holy-souled. 

My  sire  was  he  ;  through  him  I  trace 

My  line  from  royal  Kusa's  race. 

]\ly  sister  —  elder-born  was  she  — 

The  pure  and  good  Satvavati,1 

Was  to  the  great  Kichika  wed. 

Still  faithful  to  her  husband  dead, 

She  followed  him,  most  noble  dame, 

And,  raised  to  heaven  in  human  frame, 

A  pure  celestial  stream  became. 

Down  from  Himalaya's  snowy  height, 

In  floods  for  ever  fair  and  bright, 

My  sister's  holy  waves  are  hurled 

To  purify  and  glad  the  world. 

Now  on  Himalaya's  side  I  dwell 

Because  I  love  my  sister  well. 

She,  for  her  faith  and  truth  renowned, 

Most  loving  to  her  husband  found, 

High  -fated,  firm  in  each  pure  vow, 

Is  queen  of  all  the  rivers  now. 

Bound  by  a  vow  I  left  her  side 

And  to  the  Perfect  convent  hied. 

There,  by  the  aid  'twas  thine  to  lend, 

Made  perfect,  all  my  labours  end. 

Thus,  mighty  Prince,  I  now  have  told 

My  race  and  lineage,  high  and  old, 

And  local  tales  of  long  ago 

Which  thou,O  Rama,1fain  wouldst  know 

As  I  have  sate  rehearsing  thus 

The  midnight  hour  is  come  on  us. 

Mow,  Kama,  sleep,  that  nothing  may 

Our  journey  of  to-morrow  stay. 

No  leaf  on  any  tree  is  stirred  : 

Hushed  in  repose  are  beast  and  bird  : 

1  Now  called  Kosi  (Cosy)  corrupted  from 
Kausiki,  daughter  of  Kusa. 

'This  is  one  of  those  personifications  of 
rivers  so  frequent  in  the  Grecian  mytho- 
logy. but  in  the  similar  myths  is  seen  the 
impress  of  the  genius  of  each  people,  aus- 
tere and  profoundly  religious  in  India, 
graceful  and  devoted  to  the  worship  of 
external  beauty  in  Greece.'  GORKESIO. 


Where'er  you  turn ,  on  every  side, 
Dense  shades  of  night  the  landscape  hide. 
The  light  of  eve  is  fled:  the  skies, 
Thick-studded  with  their  host  of  eyes, 
Seem  a  star-forest  overhead, 
Where  signs  and  constellations  spread. 
Now  rises,  with  his  pure  cold  ray, 
The  moon  that  drives  the  shades  away, 
And  with  his  gentle  influence  brings 
Joy  to  the  hearts  of  living  things. 
Now,  stealing  from  their  lairs,  appear 
The  beasts  to  whom  the  night  is  dear. 
Now  spirits  walk,  and  every  power 
That  revels  in  the  midnight  hour.' 

The  mighty  hermit's  tale  was  o'er, 
He  closed  his  lips  and  spoke  no  more. 
The  holy  men  on  every  side, 
*  Well  done  1  well  done,'  with  reverence 

cried  ; 

'  The  mighty  men  of  Kusa's  seed 
Were  ever  famed  for  righteous  deed. 
Like  Brahma's  self  in  glory  shine 
The  high-souled  lords  of  Kusa's  line, 
And  thy  great  name  is  sounded  most, 
0  Saint,  amid  the  noble  host. 
And  thy  dear  sister — fairest  she 
Of  streams,  the  high-born  Kausiki — 
Diffusing  virtue  where  she  flows, 
New  splendour  on  thy  lineage  throws.' 
Thus  by  the  chief  of  saints  addressed 
The  son  of  Gadhi  turned  to  rest ; 
So,  when  his  daily  course  is  done, 
Sinks  to  his  rest  the  beaming  sun. 
Rama  with  Lakshman.   somewhat  stirred 
To  marvel  by  the  tales  they  heard, 
Turned  also  to  his  couch,  to  close 
His  eyelids  in  desired  repose. 


CANTO  XXXVI. 


THE  BIRTH   OF  GANG  A. 

The  hours  of  night  now  waning  fast 
On  Nona's  pleasant  shore  they  passed. 
Then,  when  the  dawn  began  to  break, 
To  Rama  thus  the  hermit  spake  : 
*  The  light  of  dawn  is  breaking  clear, 
The  hour  of  morning  rites  is  near, 
Rise,  Rama,  rise,  dear  son,  I  pray, 
And  make  thee  ready  for  the  way.' 
Then  Rama  rose,  and  finished  all 
His  duties  at  the  hermit's  call, 
Prepared  with  joy  the  road  to  take, 
And  thus  again  in  question  spake  : 
'  Here  fair  and  deep  the  $ona  flows, 
And  many  an  isle  its  bosom  shows  : 
What  way,  O  Saint,  will  lead  us  o'er 
And  land  us  on  the  farther  shore  ? 
The  saint  replied  :  'The  way  I  choose 
Is  that  which  pious  hermits  use.' 


Canto  XXXIX. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


For  many  a  league  they  journeyed  on 
Till,  when  the  sun  of  mid-day  shone, 
The  hermit-haunted  flood  was  seen 
Of  Jahnavi,1  the  Rivers'  Queen. 
Soon  as  the  holy  stream  they  viewed, 
Thronged  with  a  white-winged  multitude 
Of  sarases*  and  swans,3  delight 
Possessed  them  at  the  lovely  sight ; 
And  then  prepared  the  hermit  band 
To  halt  upon  that  holy  strand. 
They  bathed  as  Scripture  bids,  and  paid 
Oblations  due  to  God  and  shade. 
To  Fire  they  burnt  the  offerings  meet, 
And  sipped  the  oil,  like  Amrit  sweet. 
Then  pure  and  pleased  they  sate  around 
Saint  Visvamitra  on  the  ground. 
The  holy  men  of  lesser  note, 
In  due  degree,  sate  more  remote, 
While  Raghu's  sons  took  nearer  place 
By  virtue  of  their  rank  and  race. 
Then  Rama  said  :  *  0  Saint,  I  yearn 
The  three-pathed  Ganga's  tale  to  learn.' 

Thus  urged,  the  sage  recounted  both 
The  birth  of  Ganga  and  her  growth  : 
'The  mighty  hill  with  metals  stored, 
Himalaya,  is  the  mountains'  lord, 
The  father  of  a  lovely  pair 
Of  daughters  fairest  of  the  fair  : 
Their  mother,  offspring  of  the  will 
Of  Meru,  everlasting  hill, 
>Iena,  Himalaya's  darling,  graced 
With  beauty  of  her  dainty  waist. 
Ganga  was  elder-born  :  then  came 
The  fair  one  known  by  Uma's  name. 
Then  all  the  Gods  of  heaven,  in  need 
Of  Ganga's  help  their  vows  to  speed, 
To  great  Himalaya  came  and  prayed 
The  mountain  King  to  yield  the  maid. 
He,  not  regardless  of  the  weal 
Of  the  three  worlds,  with  holy  zeal 
His  daughter  to  the  Immortals  gave, 
Ganga  whose  waters  cleanse  and  save, 
Who  roams  at  pleasure,  fair  and  free, 
Purging  all  sinners,  to  the  sea. 
The  three-pathed  Ganga  thus  obtained, 
The  Gods  their  heavenly  homes  regained. 
Long  time  the  sister  Uma  passed 
In  vows  austere  and  rigid  fast, 
And  the  king  gave  the  devotee 
Immortal  RudraV  bride  to  be, 
Matching  with  that  unequalled  Lord 
His  Uma  through  the  worlds  adored. 
So  now  a  glorious  station  fills 


1  One    of    the  names   of    the   Ganges 
considered  as  the  daughter  of  Jahnu.  See 
Canto  XLIV. 

2  The  Indian  Crane. 

3  Or,  rather,  geese. 

*  A  name  of  the  God  £iva, 


Each  daughter  of  the  King  of  Hills  : 
One  honoured  as  the  noblest  stream, 
One  mid  the  Goddesses  supreme. 
Thus  Ganga,  King  Himalaya's  child, 
The  heavenly  river,  undefiled, 
Hose  bearing  with  her  to  the  sky 
Her  waves  that  bless  and  purify/ 

CANTO  XXXIX. 


THE  SONS  OF  SAGAR. 

The  saint  in  accents  sweet  and  clear 

Thus  told  his  tale  for  Rama's  ear, 

And  thus  anew  the  holy  man 

A  legend  to  the  prince  began  : 

'  There  reigned  a  pious  monarch  o'er 

Ayodhya  in  the  days  of  yore  : 

Sagar  his  name  :  no  child  had  he, 

And  children  much  he  longed  to  see. 

His  honoured  consort,  fair  of  face, 

Sprang  from  Vidarbha's  royal  race, 

Kesini,  famed  from  early  youth 

For  piety  and  love  of  truth. 

Arishtanemi's  daughter  fair, 

With  whom  no  maiden  might  compare 

In  beauty,  though  the  earth  is  wide, 

Stimati,  was  his  second  bride. 

With  his  two  queens  afar  he  went, 

And  weary  days  in  penance  spent, 

Fervent,  upon  Himalaya's  hill 

Where  springs  the  stream  called  Bhrigu's 

rill. 

Nor  did  he  fail  that  saint  to  please 
With  his  devout  austerities, 
And,  when  a  hundred  years  had  fled, 
Thus  the  most  truthful  Bhrigu  said  : 
'From  thee,  O  Sagar.  blameless  King, 
A  mighty  host  of  sons  shall  spring, 
And  thou  shalt  win  a  glorious  name 
Which  none,  O  Chief,  but  thou  shall  claim. 
One  of  thy  queens  a  son  shall  bear 
Maintainer  of  thy  race  and  heir  ; 
And  of  the  other  there  shall  be 
Sons  sixty  thousand  born  to  thee.' 

Thus  as  he  spake,  with  one  accord, 
To  win  the  grace  of  that  high  lord, 
The  queens,  with  palms  together  laid, 
In  humble  supplication  prayed  : 
*  Which  queen,  O  Brahman,  of  the  pair, 
The  many,  or  the  one  shall  bear  ? 
Most  eager,  Lord,  are  we  to  know, 
And  as  thou  sayest  be  it  so.' 

I  am  compelled  to  omit  Cantos  XXXVII 
and  XXXVIII,  THE  GLORY  OF  UMA,  and 
THE  BIRTH  OF  KARTIKEYA,  as  both  in 
subject  and  language  offensive  to  modern 
taste.  They  will  be  found  in  Schlegel's 
Latin  translation. 


50 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


tioolc  /. 


With  his  sweet  speech  the  saint  replied  : 
f  Yourselves,  O  Queens,  the  choice  decide. 
Your  own  discretion  freely  use 
Which  shall  the  one  or  many  choose  : 
One  shall  the  race  and  name  uphold, 
The  host  be  famous,  strong,  and  bold. 
Which  will  have  which?'    Then  Kesini 
The  mother  of  one  heir  would  be. 
Sumati,  sister  of  the  king1 
Of  all  the  birds  that  ply  the  wing, 
To  that  illustrious  Brahman  sued 
That  she  might  bear  the  multitude 
Whose  fame  throughout  the  world  should 

sound 

For  mighty  enterprise  renowned. 
Around  the  saint  the  monarch  went, 
Bowing  his  head,  most  reverent. 
Then  with  his  wives,  with  willing  feet, 
Resought  his  own  imperial  seat. 
Time  passed.    The  elder  consort  bare 
A  son  called  Asamanj,  the  heir. 
Then  Sumati,  the  younger,  gave 
Birth  to  a  gourd, *  O  hero  brave, 
Whose  rind,  when  burst  and  cleft  in  two, 
Gave  sixty  thousand  babes  to  view. 
All  these  with  care  the  nurses  laid 
In  jars  of  oil  ;  and  there  they  stayed, 
Till,  youthful  age  and  strength  complete, 
Forth  speeding  from  each  dark  retreat, 
All  peers  in  valour,  years,  and  might, 
The  sixty  thousand  came  to  light. 
Prince  Asamanj,  brought  up  with  care, 
Scourge  of  his  foes,  was  made  the  heir. 
But  liegemen's  boys  he  used  to  cast 
To  Sarju's  waves  that  hurried  past, 
Laughing  the  while  in  cruel  glee 
Their  dying  agonies  to  see. 
This  wicked  prince  who  aye  withstood 
The  counsel  of  the  wise  and  good, 
Who  plagued  the  people  in  his  hate, 
His  father  banished  from  the  state. 
His  son,  kind-spoken,  brave,  and  tall, 
Was  Ansuman,  beloved  of  all. 

Long  years  flew  by.    The  king  decreed 
To  slay  a  sacrificial  steed. 
Consulting  with  his  priestly  band 
He  vowed  the  rite  his  soul  'had  planned, 
And,  Veda  skilled,  by  their  advice 
Made  ready  for  the  sacrifice, 

CANTO  XL. 


THE  CLEAVING  OF  THE  EARTH. 

The  hermit  ceased  :  the  tale  was  done  : 
Then  in  a  transport  Raghu's  son 


1  Garuda. 

2  Ikshvtiku,  the  name  of  a  king  of  Ayo- 
dhya  who  is  regarded  as  the  founder  of  the 


Again  addressed  the  ancient  sire 
Resplendent  as  a  burning  tire  : 
'O  holy  man,  I  fain  would  hear 
The  tale  repeated  full  and  clear 
How  he  from  whom  my  sires  descend 
Brought  the  great  rite  to  happy  end.' 
The  hermit  answered  with  a  smile  : 
4  Then  listen,  son  of  Raghu,  while 
My  legendary  tale  proceeds 
To  tell  of  high-souled  Sagar's  deeds. 
Within  the  spacious  plain  that  lies 
From  where  Himalaya's  heights  arise 
To  where  proud  Vindhya's  rival  chain 
Looks  down  upon  the  subject  plain— 
A  land  the  best  for  rites  declared1 — • 
His  sacrifice  the  king  prepared. 
And  Ansuman  the  prince — for  so 
Sagar  advised — with  ready  bow 
Was  borne  upon  a  mighty  car 
To  watch  the  steed  who  roamed  afar. 
But  Indra,  monarch  of  the  skies, 
Veiling  his  form  in  demon  guise, 
Came  down  upon  the  appointed  day 
And  drove  the  victim  horse  away. 
Reft  of  the  steek  the  priests,  distressed, 
The  master  of  the  rite  addressed  ; 
'Upon  the  sacred  day  by  force 
A  robber  takes  the  victim  horse. 
Haste,  King !  now  let  the  thief  be  slain ; 
Bring  thou  the  charger  back  again  : 
The  sacred  rite  prevented  thus 
Brings  scathe  and  woe  to  all  of  us. 
Rise,  monarch,  and  provide  with  speed 
That  naught  its  happy  course  impede.1 

King  Sagar  in  his  crowded  court 
Gave  ear  unto  the  priests'  report. 
He  summoned  straightway  to  his  side 
His  sixty  thousand  sons,  and  cried  : 
'  Brave  sons  of  mine,  I  knew  not  how 
These  demons  are  so  mighty  now  : 
The  priests  began  the  rite  so  well 
All  sanctified  with  prayer  and  spell. 
If  in  the  depths  of  earth  he  hide, 
Or  lurk  beneath  the  ocean's  tide, 


Solar  race,  means  also  a  gourd,  Hence, 
perhaps,  the  myth. 

1  '  The  region  here  spoken  of  is  called 
in  the  Laws  of  Manu  Madliyadesa  or  the 
middle  region.  'The  region  situated  bet- 
ween the  Himalaya  and  the  Vindhya 

Mountains is    called   Madhya- 

desa,  or  the  middle  region ;  the  space 
comprised  between  these  two  mountains 
from  the  eastern  to  the  western  sea  is  called 
by  sages  Aryavartta,  the  seat  of  honour- 
able men.'  (MANU,  II,  21,  22.)  The  Sans- 
krit  Indians  called  themselves  Aryans, 
which  means  honourable,  noble,  to  dis- 
tinguish themselves  from  the  surrounding 
nations  of  different  origin,'  GOKRESIO, 


Canto  XLL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


51 


Pursue,  dear  sons,  the  robber's  track  ; 
Slay  him  and  bring  the  charger  back. 
The  whole  of  this  broad  earth  explore, 
Sea-garlanded,  from  shore  to  shore  : 
Yea,  dig  her  up  with  might  and  main 
Until  you  see  the  horse  again. 
J)eep  let  your  searching  labour  reach, 
A  league  in  depth  dug  out  by  each. 
The  robber  of  our  horse  pursue, 
And  please  your  sire  who  orders  you. 
My  grandson,  I,  this  priestly  train, 
Till  the  steed  comes,  will  here  remain.' 

Their  eager  hearts  with  transport  burned 
As  to  their  task  the  heroes  turned. 
Obedient  to  their  father,  they 
Through  earth's  recesses  forced  their  way. 
With  iron  arms'  unflinching  toil 
Each  dug  a  league  beneath  the  soil. 
Earth,  cleft  asunder,  groaned  in  pain, 
As  emulous  they  plied  amain 
Sharp- pointed  coulter,  pick,  and  bar, 
Hard  as  the  bolts  of  Indra  are. 
Then  loud  the  horrid  clamour  rose 
Of  monsters  dying  neath  their  blows, 
Giant  and  demon,  fiend  and  snake, 
That  in  earth's  core  their  dwelling  make. 
They  dug,  in  ire  that  naught  could  stay, 
Through  sixty  thousand  leagues  their  way, 
Cleaving  the  earth  with  matchless  strength 
Till  hell  itself  they  reached  at  length. 
Thus  digging  searched  they  Jambudvip1 
With  all  its  hills  and  mountains  steep. 
Then  a  great  fear  began  to  shake 
The  heart  of  God,  bard,  (lend,  and  snake, 
And  all  distressed  in  spirit  went 
Before  the  Sire  Omnipotent. 
With  signs  of  woe  in  every  face 
They  sought  the  raighty  Father's  grace, 
And  trembling  still  and  ill  at  ease 
Addressed  their  Lord  in  words  like  these  : 
'  The  sons  of  Sagar,  Sire  benign, 
Pierce  the  whole  earth  with  mine  on  mine, 
And  as  their  ruthless  work  they  ply 
Innumerable  creatures  die. 
'  This  is  the  thief,'  the  princes  say, 
'Who  stole  our  victim  steed  away. 
This  marred  the  rite,  and  caused  us  ill, 
And  so  their  guiltless  blood  they  spill.' 

CANTO  XLL 


KAPIL. 

The  father  lent  a  gracious  ear 
And  listened  to  their  tale  of  fear, 


1  Said  to  be  so  called  from  the  Jambu, 
or  Rose  Apple,  abounding  in  it,  and  signi- 
fying according  to  the  Puranas  the  central 
division  of  the  world,  the  kncwn  world. 


And  kindly  to  the  Gods  replied 
Whom  woe  and  death  had  terrified  ; 
'  The  wisest  Vasudeva,1  who 
The  Immortals'  foe,  tierce  Madhu,  slew, 
Regards  broad  Earth  with  love  and  pride, 
And  guards,  in  Kapil's  form,  his  bride.2 
His  kindled  wrath  will  quickly  fall 
On  the  king's  sons  and  burn  them  all. 
This  cleaving  of  the  earth  his  eye 
Foresaw  in  ages  long  gone  by  : 
He  knew  with  prescient  soul  the  fate 
That  Sagar's  children  should  await.' 

The  Three-and-thirty,3  freed  from  fear, 
Sought  their  bright  homes  with  hopeful 

cheer. 

Still  rose  the  great  tempestuous  sound 
As  Sagar's  children  pierced  the  ground. 
When  thus  the  whole  broad  earth  was  cleft, 
And  not  a  spot  unsearched  was  left, 
Back  to  their  home  the  princes  sped, 
And  thus  unto  their  father  said  : 

*  We  searched  the  earth  from  side  to  side, 
While  countless  hosts  of  creatures  died. 
Our  conquering  feet  in  triumph  trod 

On  snake  and  demon,  fiend  and  God  ; 
Hut  yet  we  failed,  with  all  our  toil, 
To  find  the  robber  and  the  spoil. 
What  can  we  more  ?  If  more  we  can, 
Devise,  O  King,  and  tell  thy  plan.' 

His  chidren's  speech  King  Sagar  heard, 
And  answered  thus,  to  anger  stirred  : 

*  Dig  on,  and  ne'er  your  labour  stay 

Till  through  earth's  depths  you  force  your 

way. 

Then  smite  the  robber  dead,  and  bring 
The  charger  back  with  triumphing.' 


1  Here  used  as  a  name  of  Vishnu 

*  Kings  are  called  the  husbands  of  their 
kingdoms  or  of  the  earth  ;  'She  and  hia 
kingdom  were  his  only  birdes.'  Raghuvahsa. 

'Doubly  divorced  !  Bad  men,  you  violate 

A  double  marriage,  'twixt  my  c  ro  wn  and  me, 

And  then  between  me  and  my  married  wife.' 

King  Richard  II.  Act  V.  Sc.  I. 

3  The  thirty-three  Gods  are  said  in  the 
Aitareya  Brahmana,~Book  I.  ch.  II.  10.  to 
be  the  eight  Vasus,  the  eleven  Rudras,  the 
twelve  Adityas,  Prajapati,  either  Brahma 
or  Daksha,  and  Vashatkara  or  deified 
oblation.  This  must  have  been  the  actual 
number  at  the  beginning  of  the  Vedic 
religion  gradually  increased  by  successive 
mythical  and  religious  creations  till  the 
Indian  Pantheon  was  crowded  with  abs- 
tractions of  every  kind.  Through  the  re- 
verence with  which  the  words  of  the  Veda 
were  regarded,  the  immense  host  of  mul- 
tiplied divinities,  in  later  tinus,  still  bore 
the  name  of  the  Thirty-three  Gois. 


5.2 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


The  sixty  thousand  chiefs  obeyed  : 
Deep  through  the  earth  their  way  they 

made. 

Deep  as  they  dug  and  deeper  yet 
The  immortal  elephant  they  met, 
Famed  Virupaksha1  vast  of  size, 
Upon  whose  head  the  broad  earth  lies  : 
The  mighty  beast  who  earth  sustains 
With  shaggy  hills  and  wooded  plains. 
When,  with  the  changing  moon,  distressed, 
And  longing  for  a  moment's  rest, 
His  mighty  head  the  monster  shakes, 
Earth  to  the  bottom  reels  and  quakes. 
Around  that  warder  strong  and  vast 
With  reverential  steps  they  passed, 
Nor,  when  the  honour  due  was  paid, 
Their    downward    search  through  earth 

delayed. 

But  turning  from  the  east  aside 
Southward  again  their  task  they  plied. 
There  Mahapadma  held  his  place, 
The  best  of  all  his  mighty  race, 
Like  some  huge  hill,  of  monstrous  girth, 
Upholding  on  his  head  the  earth, 
When  the  vast  beast  the  princes  saw, 
They  marvelled  and  were  tilled  with  awe. 
The  sons  of  high-souled  Sagar  round 
That  elephant  in  reverence  wound. 
Then  in  the  western  region  they 
With  might  unwearied  cleft  their  way. 
There  saw  they  with  astonisht  eyes 
Saumanas,  beast  of  mountain  size. 
Round  him  with  circling  steps  they  went 
With  greetings  kind  and  reverent. 

On,  on— no  thought  of  rest  or  stay—- 
They reached  the  seat  of  Soma's  sway. 
There  saw  they  Bhadra,  white  as  snow, 
With  lucky  marks  that  fortune  show, 
Bearing  the  earth  upon  his  head. 
J\ound  him  they  paced  with  solemn  tread, 


i  *  One  of  the  elephants  which,  accor- 
ding to  an  ancient  belief  popular  in  India. 
supported  the  earth  with  their  enormous 
backs  ;  when  one  of  these  elephants  shook 
his  wearied  head  the  earth  trembled  with 
its  woods  and  hills.  An  idea,  or  rather  a 
mythical  fancy,  similar  to  this,  but  re- 
duced to  proportions  less  grand,  is  found 
in  Virgil  wben  he  speaks  of  Enceladus 
buried  under  JKtna,  : 

Farna  est  Enceladi  semiustum  fulmine 
corrjus 

Urgeri  mole  hac,  ingentemque   insuper 


Impositam,  ruptis    flammam    expirare 

caminis  ; 
Et  fessum  quoties  mutat  latus,   intre 

mere  omnem 
jyiurmure  Trinacriam,  etcoelum  subtexere 

f  umo,'  ^Eneid.  Lib,  III,  GORRESIO. 


And  honoured  him  with  greetings  kind  ; 
Then  downward  yet  their  way  they  mined. 
They  gained  the  tract  'twixt  east  and  north 
Whose  fame  is  ever  blazoned  forth,1 
And  by  a  storm  of  rage  impelled, 
Digging  through  earth  their   course  they 

held. 

Then  all  the  princes,  lofty- souled, 
Of   wondrous  vigour,  strong  and  bold. 
Saw  Vasudeva2  standing  there 
In  Kapil's  form  he  loved  to  wear, 
And  near  the  everlasting  God 
The  victim  charger  cropped  the  sod. 
They  saw  with  joy  and  eager  eyes 
The  fancied  robber  and  the  prize, 
And  on  him  rushed  the  furious  band 
Crying  aloud,  Stand,  villain  !  stand  ! 
'  Avaunt !  avaunt !'  great  Kapil  criedr 
His  bosom  flusht  with  passion's  tide  ; 
Then  by  his  might  that  proud  array 
All  scorcht  to  heaps  of  ashes  lay.3 

CANTO  XLIL 


SAGAR'S  SACRIFICE. 

Then  to  the  prince  his  grandson,  bright 
With  his  own  fame's  unborrowed  light, 
King  Sagar  thus  began  to  say. 
Marvelling  at  his  sons'  delay  : 
'  Thou  art  a  warrior  skilled  and  bold, 
Match  for  the  mighty  men  of  old. 
Now  follow  on  thine  uncles'  course 
And  tracK  the  robber  of  the  horse. 


1  'The   Devas   and    Asuras   (Gods  and 
Titans)  fought  in  the  east,  the  south,  the 
west,  and  the  north,  and  the   Devas  were 
defeated  by  the  Asuras  in  all  these  direc- 
tions.    They   then   fought  in   the  north- 
eastern direction  ;  there  the  Devas  did  not 
sustain  defeat.  This  direction  isapardjitd, 
i.  e.  unconquerable.  Thence  one  should  do 
work   in  this  direction,  and  have  it  done 
there  :  for  such  a  one  (alone)  is  able  to 
c  lear  off  his  debts.'  H  AUG'S  Aitareya  Brdh- 
man  am,  Vol  11.,  p.  33. 

The  debts  here  spoken  of  are  a  man's  re- 
ligious obligations  to  the  Gods,  the  Pitaraa 
or  Manes,  and  men. 

2  Vishnu, 

3  '  It  appears  to  me  that  this  mythical 
story  has  reference  to  the  volcanic  pheno- 
mena of  nature.      Kapil  may   very   pos- 
sibly be  that  hidden  riery  force  which  sud- 
denly imprisons  itself   and  bursts   forth 
in   volcanic   effects.     Kapil  is,  moreover, 
one  of   the  names  of  Agni  the  God  of 
Fire.'    GORRESIO. 


Canto  XLIIT. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


53 


To  guard  thee  take  thy  sword  and  bow, 
For  huge  and  strong  are  beasts  below, 
There  to  the  reverend  reverence  pay, 
And  kill  the  foes  who  check  thy  way  ; 
Then  turn  successful  home  and  see 
My  sacrifice  complete  through  thee.' 

Obedient  to  the  high-souled  lord 
Grasped  Ansuman  his  bow  and  sword, 
And  hurried  forth  the  way  to  trace 
With  youth  and  valour's  eager  pace. 
On  sped  he  by  the  path  he  found 
Dug  by  his  uncles  underground, 
The  warder  elephant  he  saw 
Whose  size  and  strength  pass  Nature's  law, 
Who  bears  the  world's  tremendous  weight, 
Whom  God,  fiend,  giant  venerate, 
Bird,  serpent,  and  each  flitting  shade. 
To  him  the  honour  meet  he  paid 
With  circling  steps  and  greeting  due, 
And  further  prayed  him,  if  he  knew, 
To  tell  him  of  his  uncles'  weal, 
And  who  had  dared  the  horse  to  steal. 
To  him  in  war  and  council  tried 
The  warder  elephant  replied  : 

*  Thou,  son  of  Asamanj,  shalt  lead 
In  triumph  back  the  rescued  steed.' 

As  to  each  warder  beast  he  came 
And  questioned  all.  his  words  the  same, 
The  honoured  youth  with  gentle  speech 
Drew  eloquent  reply  from  each, 
That  fortune  should  his  steps  attend, 
And  with  the  horse  he  home  should  wend. 
Cheered  with  the  grateful  answer,  he 
Passed  on  with  step  more  light  and  free, 
And  reached  with  careless  heart  the  place 
Where  lay  in  ashes  Sagar's  race. 
Then  sank  the  spirit  of  the  chief 
Beneath  that  shock  of  sudden  grief, 
And  with  a  bitter  cry  of  woe 
He  mourned  his  kinsmen  fallen  so. 
He  saw,  weighed  down  by  woe  and  care, 
The  victim  charger  roaming  there. 
Yet  would  the  pious  chieftain  fain 
Oblations  offer  to  the  slain  : 
But,  needing  water  for  the  rite, 
He  looked  and  there  was  none  insight. 
His  quick  eye  searching  all  around 
The  unole  of  his  kinsmen  found. 
King  Garud,  best  beyond  compare 
Of  birds  who  wing  the  fields  of  air. 
Then  thus  unto  the  weeping  man 
The  son  of  Vinata1  began  : 

*  Grieve  not,  O  hero,  for  their  fall 
Who  died  a  death  approved  of  all. 

Of  mighty  strength,  they  met  their  fate 
By  Kapil's  hand  whom  none  can  mate. 
Pour  forth  for  them  no  earthly  wave, 


1  Garud  was  the  son   of  Kasyap  and 
Vinata. 


A  holier  flood  their  spirits  crave. 
If,  daughter  of  the  Lord  of  Snow, 
Ganga  would  turn  her  stream  below, 
Her  waves  that  cleanse  all  mortal  stain 
Would  wash  their  ashes  pure  again. 
Yea,  when  her  flood  whom  all  revere 
Rolls  o'er  the  dust  that  moulders  here> 
The  sixty  thousand,  freed  from  sin, 
A  home  in  Indra's  heaven  shall  win. 
Go,  and  with  ceaseless  labour  try 
To  draw  the  Goddess  from  the  sky. 
Return,  and  with  thee  take  the  steed  * 
So  shall  thy  grandsire's  rite  succeed.' 

Prince  Ansuman  the  strong  and  braze 
Followed  the  rede  Suparna1  gave. 
The  glorious  hero  took  the  horse, 
And  homeward  quickly  bent  his  course. 
Straight  to  the  anxious  king  he  hied, 
Whom  lustral  rites  had  purified, 
The  mournful  story  to  unfold 
And  all  the  king  of  birds  had  told. 
The  tale  of  woe  the  monarch  heard, 
Nor  longer  was  the  rite  deterred : 
With  care  and  just  observance  he 
Accomplished  all.  as  texts  decree. 
The  rites  performed,  with  brighter  fame* 
Mighty  in  counsel,  home  he  came. 
He  longed  to  bring  the  river  down, 
But  found  no  plan  his  wish  to  crown. 
He  pondered  long  with  anxious  thought, 
But  saw  no  way  to  what  he  sought. 
Thus  thirty  thousand  years  he  spent, 
And  then  to  heaven  the  monarch  went* 


CANTO  XLIIL 


BHAGIRATH. 

When  Sagar  thus  had  bowed  to  fate, 
The  lords  and  commons  of  the  state 
Approved  with  ready  heart  and  will 
Prince  Ansuman  his  throne  to  fill. 
He  ruled,  a  mighty  king,  unblamed, 
Sire  of  Dilipa  justly  famed. 
To  him.  his  child  and  worthy  heir, 
The  king  resigned  his  kingdom's  care, 
And  on  Himalaya's  pleasant  side 
His  task  austere  of  penance  plied. 
Bright  as  a  God  in  clear  renown 
He  planned  to  bring  pure  Ganga  down. 
There  on  his  fruitless  hope  intent 
Twice  sixteen  thousand  years  he  spent, 
And  in  the  grove  of  hermits  stayed 
Till  bliss  in  heaven  his  rites  repaid. 
Dilipa  then,  the  good  and  great, 
Soon  as  he  learnt  his  kinsmen's  fate, 
Bowed  down  by  woe,  with  troubled  mind, 

«  Garud. 


54 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  I. 


Pondering  long  no  cure  could  find  . 

'  How  can  I  bring,'  the  mourner  sighed, 

'To  cleanse  their  dust,  the  heavenly  tide? 

How  can  I  give  them  rest,  and  save 

Their  spirits  with  the  offered  wave?' 

Long  with  this  thought  his  bosom  skilled 

In  holy  discipline  was  tilled. 

A  son  was  born,  Bhagirath  named, 

Above  all  men  for  virtue  famed. 

Dilipa  many  a  rite  ordained, 

And  thirty  thousand  seasons  reigned. 

But  when  no  hope  the  king  could  see 

His  kinsmen  from  their  woe  to  free, 

The  lord  of  men,  by  sickness  tried, 

Obeyed  the  law  of  fate,  and  died ; 

He  left  the  kingdom  to  his  son, 

And  gained  the  heaven  his  deeds  had  won 

The  good  Bhagirath,  royal  sage, 

Had  no  fair  son  to  cheer  his  age. 

He,  great  in  glory,  pure  in  will, 

Longing  for  sons  was  childless  still. 

Then  on  one  wish,  one  thought  intent, 

Planning  the  heavenly  stream's  descent, 

Leaving  his  ministers  the  care 

And  burden  of  his  state  to  bear, 

Dwelling  in  far  Gokarna1  he 

Engaged  in  long  austerity. 

With  senses  checked,  with  arms  upraised, 

Five  tires2  around  and  o'er  him  blazed. 

Each  weary  month  the  hermit  passed 

Breaking  but  once  his  awful  fast. 

In  winter's  chill  the  brook  his  bed, 

In  rain,  the  clouds  to  screen  his  head. 

Thousands  of  years  he  thus  endured 

lill  Brahma's  favour  was  assured, 

And  the  high  Lord  of  living  things 

Looked  kindly  on  his  sufferings. 

With  trooping  Gods  the  Sire  came  near 

T  he  king  who  plied  his  task  austere  ; 

*  Blest  Monarch,  of  a  glorious  race, 

Thy  fervent  rites  have  won  my  grace. 

Well  hast  thou  wrought  thine  awful  task  : 

Some  boon  in  turn,  O  Hermit,  ask.' 

Bhagirath,  rich  in  glory's  light, 
The  hero  with  the  arm  of  might, 
Thus  to  the  Lord  of  earth  and  sky 
Raised  suppliant  hands  and  made  reply  : 
'  If  the  great  God  his  favour  deigns, 
And  my  long  toil  its  fruit  obtains, 
Let  Sagar's  sons  receive  from  me 
Libations  that  they  long  to  see. 
Let  Ganga  with  her  holy  wave 
The  ashes  of  the  heroes  lave, 
That  so  my  kinsmen  may  ascend 
To  heavenly  bliss  that  ne'er  shall  end. 
And  give,  I  pray,  O  God,  a  son, 
Nor  let  my  house  be  all  undone. 

1  A  famous  and  venerated  region    near 
the  Malabar  coast. 

2  That  is  four  tires  and  the  sun. 


Sire  of 'the  worlds  !  be  this  the  grace 
Bestowed  upon  Ikshvaku's  race.' 

The  Sire,  when  thus  the  king  had  prayed, 
In  sweet  kind  words  his  answer  made  : 
'  High,  high  thy  thought  arid  wishes  are, 
Bhagirath  of  the  mighty  car  ! 
Ikshvaku's  line  is  blest  in  thee, 
And  as  thou  prayest  it  shall  be. 
Uanga,  whose  waves  in  Swarga1  flow, 
Js  daughter  of  the  Lord  of  8now. 
Win  Siva  that  his  aid  be  lent 
To  hold  her  in  her  mid  descent, 
B^or  earth  alone  will  never  bear 
Those  torrents  hurled  from  upper  air  ; 
And  none  may  hold  her  weight  but  He, 
The  Trident  wielding  deity.' 
Thus  having  said,  the  Lord  supreme 
Addressed  him  to  the  heavenly  stream  ; 
And  then  with  Gods  and   Maruts*  went 
To  heaven  above  the  firmament. 


CANTO  XLIV. 


THE  DESCENT  OF  GANGA'. 

The  Lord  of  life  the  skies  regained  : 

he  fervent  king  a  year  remained 
With  arms  upraised,  refusing  rest 
While  with  one  toe  the  earth  he  pressed, 
Still  as  a  post,  with  sleepless  eye, 
The  air  his  food,  his  roof  the  sky. 
The  year  had  past.    Then  Uma's  lord,3 
King  of  creation,  world -adored, 
Thus  spoke  to  great  Bhagirath  :  '  I 
Well  pleased  thy  wish  will  gratify, 
And  on  my  head  her  waves  shall  fling 
The  daughter  of  the  Mountains'  King  ! ' 
He  stood  upon  the  lofty  crest 

That  crowns  the  Lord  of  Snow, 
And  bade  the  river  of  the  Blest 

Descend  on  earth  below. 
Himalaya's  child,  adored  of  all, 

The  haughty  mandate  heard, 
And  her  proud  bosom,  at  the  call, 

With  furious  wrath  was  stirred. 
Down  from  her  channel  in  the  skies 

With  awful  might  she  sped 
With  a  giant's  rush,  in  a  giaut's  size, 

On  Diva's  holy  head. 
*  He  calls  me,'  in  her  wrath  she  cried, 

'And  all  my  flood  shall  sweep 
And  whirl  him  in  its  whelmingjtide 

To  hell's  prof  oundest  deep. 
He  held  the  river  on  his  head, 

And  kept  her  wandering,  where, 
Dense  as  Himalaya's  woods,  were  spread 

The  tangles  of  his  hair. 


i  Heaveu.      2  Wiud-Goda.      3  Siva. 


Canto  XLIV. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


55 


No  way  to  earth  she  found,  ashamed, 

Though  long  and  sore  she  strove, 
Condemned,  until  her  pride  were  tamed, 

Amid  his  locks  to  rove. 
There,  many  lengthening  seasons  through, 

The  wildered  river  ran  : 
Bhagirath  saw  it,  and  anew 

His  penance  dire  began. 
Then  £iva,  for  the  hermit's  sake, 

Bade  her  long  wanderings  end, 
And  sinking  into  Vindu's  lake 

Her  weary  waves  descend, 
From  Ganga,  by  the  God  set  free, 

Seven  noble  rivers  came  ; 
Hladini,  Pavarii,  and  she 

Called  Nalini  by  name  : 
These  rolled  their  lucid  waves  along 

And  sought  the  eastern  side. 
Suchakshu,  Sita  fair  and  strong, 

And  Sindhu's  mighty  tide — * 
These  to  the  region  of  the  west 

With  joyful  waters  sped  : 
The  seventh,  the  brightest  and  the  best, 

Flowed  where  Bhagirath  led. 
On  Diva's  head  descending  first 

A  rest  the  torrents  found  ; 
Then  down  in  all  their  might  they  burst 

And  roared  along  the  ground. 
On  countless  glittering  scales  the  beam 

Of  rosy  morning  flashed, 
Where  fish  and  dolphins  through  the  stream 

Fallen  and  falling  dashed. 
Then  bards  who  chant  celestial  lays 

And  nymphs  of  heavenly  birth 
Flocked  round  upon  that  flood  to  gaze 

That  streamed  from  sky  to  earth. 
The  Gods  themselves  from  every  sphere, 

Incomparably  bright, 
Borne  in  their  golden  cars  drew  near 

To  see  the  wondrous  sight. 
The  cloudless  sky  was  all  aflame 

With  the  light  of  a  hundred  suns 
Where'er  the  shining  chariots  came 

That  bore  those  holy  ones. 
So  flashed  the  air  with  crested  snakes 

And  fish  of  every  hue 
As  when  the  lightning's  glory  breaks 

Through  fields  of  summer  blue. 
And  white  foam-clouds  and  silver  spray 

Were  wildly  tossed  on  high, 
Like  swans  that  urge  their  homeward  way 

Across  the  autumn  sky. 
Now  ran  the  river  calm  and  clear 

With  current  strong  and  deep  : 


1  The  lake  Vindu  does  not  exist.  Of  the 
seven  rivers  here  mentioned  two  only,  the 
Ganges  and  the  Sindhu  or  Indus,  are 
known  to  geographers.  Hladini  means  the 
Oladdener,  Pavani the  Purifier,  Nalini  the 
Lotus -clad,  and  Suchakshu  the  Fair-eyed. 
5 


Now  slowly  broadened  to  a  mere, 

Or  scarcely  seemed  to  creep. 
Now  o'er  a  length  of  sandy  plain 

Her  tranquil  course  she  held  ; 
Now  rose  her  waves  and  sank  again, 

By  refluent  waves  repelled. 
So  falling  first  on  Diva's  head, 
Thence  rushing  to  their  earthly  bed, 
In  ceaseless  fall  the  waters  streamed, 
And  pure  with  holy  lustre  gleamed. 
Then  every  spirit,  sage,  and  bard, 
Condemned  to  earth  by  sentence  hard, 
Pressed  eagerly  around  the  tide 
That  Siva's  touch  had  sanctified. 
Then  they  whom   heavenly    doom    had 

hurled, 

Accursed,  to  this  lower  world, 
Touched  the  pure  wave,  and  freed  from  sin 
Resought  the  skie.s  and  entered  in. 
And  all  the  world  was  glad,  whereon 
The  glorious  water  flowed  an!  shone, 
For  sin  and  stain  were  banished  thence 
By  the  sweet  river's  influence. 
First,  in  a  car  of  heavenly  frame, 
The  royal  saint  of  deathless  name, 
Bhagirath,  very  glorious  rode, 
And  after  him  fair  Ganga  flowed. 
God,  sage  ,  and  bard,  the  chief  in  place 
Of  spirits  and  the  Naga  race, 
Nymph,  giant,  fiend,  in  long  array 
Sped  where  Bhagirath  led  the  way; 
And  all  the  hosts  the  flood  that  swim 
Followed  the  stream  that  followed  him. 
Where'er  the  great  Bhagirath  led, 
There  ever  glorious  Ganga  fled, 
The  best  of  floods,  the  rivers'  queen, 
Whose  waters  wash  the  wicked  clean. 

It  chanced  that  Jahnu,  great  and  good, 
Engaged  with  holy  offerings  stood; 
The  river  spread  her  waves  around 
Flooding  his  sacrificial  ground. 
The  saint  in  anger  marked  her  pride, 
And  at  one  draught  her  stream  he  dried. 
Then  God,  and  sa^e,  and  bard,  afraid, 
To  noble  high-souled  Jahnu  prayed, 
And  begged  that  he  would  kindly  deem 
His  own  dear  child  that  holy  stream. 
Moved  by  their  suit,  he  soothed  their  fears 
And  loosed  her  waters  from  his  ears. 
Hence  Ganga  through  the  world  is  styled 
Both  Jahnavi  and  Jahnu's  child. 
Then  onward  still  she  followed  fast, 
And  reached  the  great  sea  bank  at  last. 
Thence  deep  below  her  way  she  made 
To  end  those  rites  so  long  delayed. 
The  monarch  reached  the  Ocean's  side, 
And  still  behind  him  Ganga  hied. 
He  sought  the  depths  which  open  lay 
Where  Sagar's  sons  had  dug  their  way. 
So  leading  through  earth's  nether  caves 
The  river's  purifying  waves, 


56 


THE  RAMADAN. 


Book  I. 


Over  his  kinsmen's  dust  the  lord 
His  funeral  libation  poured. 
Soon  as  the  flood  their  dust  bedewed, 
Their  spirits  gained  beatitude, 
And  all  in  heavenly  bodies  dressed 
Hose  to  the  skies'  eternal  rest. 

Then  thus  to  King  Bhagirath  said 
Brahma,  when,  coming  at  the  head 
Of  all  his  bright  celestial  train, 
He  saw  those  spirits  freed  from  stain  : 
'  Well  done  !  great  Prince  of  men,  well 

done ! 

Thy  kinsmen  bliss  and  heaven  have  won. 
The  sons  of  Sagar  mighty-souled, 
Are  with  the  Blest,  as  Gods,  enrolled. 
Long  as  the  Ocean's  flood  shall  stand 
Upon  the  border  of  the  land, 
So  long  shall  Sagar's  sons  remain. 
And,  godlike,  rank  in  heaven  retain. 
Ganga  thine  eldest  child  shall  be, 
Called  from  thy  name  Bhagirathi ; 
Named  also— for  her  waters  fell 
From  heaven  and  flow  through  earth  and 

hell— 

Tripathaga,  stream  of  the  skies, 
Because  three  paths  she  glorifies. 
And,  mighty  King,  'tis  given  thee  now 
To  free  thee  and  perform  thy  vow. 
No  longer,  happy  Prince,  delay 
Drink-offerings  to  thy  kin  to  pay. 
For  this  the  holiest  Sagar  sighed, 
But  mourned  the  boon  he  sought  denied. 
Then  Ansuman,  dear  Prince  !  although 
No  brighter'name  the  world  could  show, 
Strove  long  the  heavenly  flood  to  gain 
To  visit  earth,  but  strove  in  vain. 
Nor  was  she  by  the  sages'  peer, 
Blest  with  all  virtues,  most  austere, 
Thy  sire  Dili  pa,  hither  brought, 
Though  with  fierce  prayers  the  boon  he 

sought. 

But  thou,  O  King,  earned  success, 
And  won  high  fame  which  God  will  bless. 
Through  thee,  O  victor  of  thy  foes, 
On  earth  this  heavenly  Ganga  flows, 
And  thou  hast  gained  the  meed  divine 
That  waits  on  virtue  such  as  thine. 
Now  in  her  ever  holy  wave 
Thyself,  O  best  of  heroes,  lave : 
So  shalt  thou,  pure  from  every  sin, 
The  blessed  fruit  of  merit  win. 
Now  for  thy  kin  who  died  of;yore 
The  meet  libations  duly  pour. 
Above  the  heavens  I  now  ascend : 
Depart,  and  bliss  thy  steps  attend.' 

Thus  to  the  mighty  king  who  broke 
His  foemens'  might,  Lord  Brahma  spoke, 
Arid  with  his  Gods  around  him  rose 
To  his  own  heaven  of  blest  repose. 
The  royal  sage  no  more  delayed, 


But,  the  libation  duly  paid, 
Home  to  his  regal  city  hied 
With  water  cleansed  and  purified. 
There  ruled  he  his  ancestral  state, 
Best  of  all  men,  most  fortunate. 
And  all  the  people  joyed  again 
In  good  Bhagirath's  gentle  reign. 
Kich,  prosperous,  and  blest  were  they, 
And  grief  and  sickness  fled  away. 
Thus,  Kama,  I  at  length  have  told 
How  Ganga  came  from  heaven  of  old. 
Now,  for  the  evening  passes  swift, 
I  wish  thee  each  auspicious  gift. 
This  story  of  the  flood's  descent 
Will  give— for  'tis  most  excellent- 
Wealth,  purity,  fame,  length  of  days, 
And  to  the  skies  its  hearers  raise.' 

CANTO  XLV. 


THE  QUEST  OP  THE  AMRIT. 

High  and  more  high  their  wonder  rose 
As  the  strange  story  reached  its  close, 
And  thus,  with  Lakshman,  Rama,  best 
Of  Raghu's  sons,  the  saint  addressed  : 
'  Most  wondrous  is  the  tale  which  thou 
Hast  told  of  heavenly  Gan^a,  how 
From  realms  above  descending  she 
Flowed  through  the  land  and  rilled  the  sea. 
In  thinking  o'er  what  thou  hast  said 
The  night  has  like  a  moment  fled, 
Whose  hours  in  musing  have  been  spent 
Upon  thy  words  most  excellent : 
So  much,  O  holy  Sage,  thy  lore 
Has  charmed  us  with  this  tale  of  yore.' 

Day  da \vned.  The  morning  rites  were  done 
And  the  victorious  Raghu's  son 
Addressed  the  sage  in  words  like  these, 
Rich  in  his  long  austerities  : 
'  The  night  is  past :  the  morn  is  clear  ; 
Told  is  the  tale  so  good  to  hear  ; 
Now  o'er  that  river  let  us  go, 
Three-pathed,  the  best  of  all  that  flow. 
This  boat  stands  ready  on  the  shore 
To  bear  the  holy  hermits  o'er. 
Who  of  thy  coming  warned,  in  haste, 
The  barge  upon  the  bank  have  placed.' 

And  Kusik's  son  approved  his  speech, 
And  moving  to  the  sandy  beach, 
Placed  in  the  boat  the  hermit  band, 
And  reached  the  river's  farther  strand. 
On  the  north  bank  their  feet  they  set, 
And  greeted  all  the  saints  they  met, 
On  Ganga's  shore  they  lighted  down, 
And  saw  Visala's  lovely  town. 
Thither,  the  princes  by  his  side, 
The  best  of  holy  hermits  hied. 
It  was  a  town  exceeding  fair 


Canto  XLV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


57 


That  might  with  heaven  itself  compare. 
Then,  suppliant  palm  to  palm  applied, 
Famed  Rama  asked  hia  holy  guide : 
'  O  best  of  hermits,  say  what  race 
Of  monarchs  rules  this  lovely  place. 
Dear  master,  let  my  prayer  prevail, 
For  much  I  long  to  hear  the  tale.' 
Moved  by  his  words,  the  saintly  man 
Visala's  ancient  tale  began  : 
4  List,  Rama,  list,  with  closest  heed 
The  tale  of  Indra's  wondrous  deed, 
And  mark  me  as  I  truly  tell 
What  here  in  ancient  days  befell. 
Ere  Krita's  famous  Age1  had  fled, 
Strong  were  the  sons  of  Diti2  bred  ; 
And  Aditi's  brave  children  too 
Were  very  mighty,  good,  and  true. 
The  rival  brothers  fierce  and  bold 
Were  sons  of  Kasyap  lofty-souled, 
Of  sister  mothers  born,  they  vied, 
Brood  against  brood,  in  jealous  pride. 
Once,  as  they  say,  band  met  with  band, 
And,  joined  in  awful  council,  planned 
To  live,  unharmed  by  age  and  time, 
Immortal  in  their  youthful  prime. 
Then  this  was,  after  due  debate, 
The  counsel  of  the  wise  and  great, 
To  churn  with  might  the  milky  sea3 
The  life-bestowing  drink  to  free. 
This  pi anned ,  they  seized  the  Serpent  King, 
Vasuki,  for  their  churning- string, 
And  Mandar's  mountain  for  their  pole, 
And  churned  with  all  their  heart  and  soul. 
As  thus,  a  thousand  seasons  through, 
This  way  and  that  the  snake  they  drew, 
Biting  the  rocks,  each  tortured  head 
A  very  deadly  venom  shed. 
Thence,  bursting  like  a  mighty  flame, 
A  pestilential  poison  came, 
Consuming,  as  it  onward  ran, 
The  home  of  God,  and  fiend,  and  man. 
Then  all  the  suppliant  Gods  in  fear 
To  $ankar,4  mighty  lord,  drew  near. 
To  Rudra,  King  of  Herds,  dismayed, 
'  Save  us,  O  save  us,  Lord  !'  they  prayed. 
Then  Vishnu,  bearing  shell,  and  mace, 
And  discus,  showed  his  radiant  face, 
And  thus  addressed  in  smiling  glee 
The  Trident-wielding  deity  : 
What  treasure  first  the  Gods  upturn 
From  troubled  Ocean,  as  they  churn, 
Should— for  thou  art  the  eldest— be 
Conferred,  O  best  of  Gods,  on  thee. 

1  The  first  or  Golden  Age. 

2  Diti  and  Aditi  were  wives  of  Kasyap, 
and  mothers  respectively  of  Titans   and 
Gods. 

3  One  of  the  seven  seas  surrounding  as 
many  worlds  in  concentric  rings. 

4  &ankar  and  Rudra  are  names  of  Siva, 


Then  come,  and  for  thy  birthright's  sake, 
This  venom  as  thy  firstfruits  take.' 
He  spoke,  and  vanished  from  their  sight. 
When  £iva  saw  their  wild  affright, 
And  heard  his  speech  by  whom  is  born* 
The  mighty  bow  of  bending  horn,1 
The  poisoned  flood  at  once  he  quaffed 
As  'twere  the  Amrit's  heavenly  draught. 
Then  from  the  Gods  departing  went 
f§iva,  the  Lord  pre-eminent. 
The  host  of  Gods  and  Asurs  still 
Kept  churning  with  one  heart  and  will. 
But  Mandar's  mountain,  whirling  round, 
Pierced  to  the  depths  below  the  ground. 
Then  Gods  and  bards  in  terror  flew 
To  him  who  mighty  Madhu  slew. 
'  Help  of  all  beings  !  more  than  all, 
The  Gods  on  thee  for  aid  may  call. 
Ward  off,  0  mighty- armed  !  our  fate, 
And  bear  up  Mandar's  threatening  weight,' 
Then  Vishnu,  as  their  need  was  sore, 
The  sembla'nce  of  a  tortoise  wore, 
And  in  the  bed  of  Ocean  lay 
The  mountain  on  his  back  to  stay. 
Then  he,  the  soul  pervading  all, 
Whose  locks  in  radiant  tresses  fall, 
One  mighty  arm  extended  still, 
And  grasped  the  summit  of  the  hill. 
So  ranged  among  the  Immortals,  he 
Joined  in  the  churning  of  the  sea. 

A  thou  sand  years  had  reached  their  close, 
When  calmly  from  the  ocean  rose 
The  gentle  sage54  with  staff  and  can, 
Lord  of  the  art  of  healing  man. 
Then  as  the  waters  foamed  and  boiled, 
As  churning  still  the  Immortals  toiled, 
Of  winning  face  and  lovely  frame, 
Forth  sixty  million  fair  ones  came. 
Born  of  the  foam  and  water,  these 
Were  a}  tly  namtd  Apsarases.3 


1  '  Sdrngin.  literally  carrying  a  bow  of 
horn,  is  a  constantly  recurring  name  of 
Vishnu.      The    Indians    also,    therefore, 
knew* the  art  of  making  bows  out  of  the 
horns  of  antelopes  or  wild  goats,  which 
Homer  ascribes  to  the    Trojans  of    the 
heroic  age.'    SCHLEGEL. 

2  Dhanvantari,    the    physician  of    the 
Gods. 

3  The  poet  plays  upon  the  word  and 
fancifully  derives  it  from  apsu,  the  loca- 
tive case  plural  of  ap,  water,  and  rasa, 

taste The  word  is  probably  derived 

from  ap,  water,  and  sri,  to  go,  and  seems 
to  signify  inhabitants  of  the  water,  nymphs 
of  the  stream  ;  or,  as  Goldstiicker  thinks 
(Diet.  s.  v.)  these  divinities  were  originally 
personifications  of  the  vapours  which  are 
attracted  by  the  sun  and  form  into  inist 
or  clouds, 


58 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


Each  had  her  maids.    The  tongue  would 

fail- 
So  vast  the  throng— to  count  the  tale. 
But  when  no  God  or  Titan  wooed 
A  wife  from  all  that  multitude, 
Refused  by  all,  they  gave  their  love 
In  common  to  the  Gods  above. 
Then  from  the  sea  still  vext  and  wild 
Rose  Sura,1  Varun's  maiden  child, 
A  fitting  match  she  sought  to  find  : 
But  Diti's  sons  her  love  declined, 
Their  kinsmen  of  the  rival  brood 
To  the  pure  maid  in  honour  sued. 
Hence  those  who  loved  that  nymph  so  fair 
The  hallowed  name  of  Suras  bear. 
And  Asurs  are  the  Titan  crowd 
Her  gentle  claims  who  disallowed. 
Then  from  the  foamy  sea  was  freed 
Uchchaihsravas,2  the  generous  steed, 
And  Kaustubha,  of  gems  the  gem,8 
And  Soma,  Moon  God,  after  them. 

At  length  when  many  a  year  had  tied, 
Up  floated,  on  her  lotus  bed, 
A  maiden  fair  and  tender-eyed, 
In  the  young  tiush  of  beauty's  pride. 
She  shone  with  pearl  and  golden  sheen, 
And  seals  of  glory  stamped  her  queen. 
On  each  round  arm  glowed  many  a  gem, 
On  her  smooth  brows,  a  diadem. 
Rolling  in  waves  beneath  her  crown 
The  glory  of  her  hair  flowed  down. 
Pearls  on  her  neck  of  price  untold, 
The  lady  shone  like  burnisht  gold. 
Queen  of  the  Gods,  she  leapt  to  land, 
A  lotus  in  her  perfect  hand, 


1  *  Surd,  in  the  feminine  comprehends  all 
sorts  of  intoxicating  liquors,  many  kinds 
of  wnich  the  Indians  from  the  earliest 
times  distilled  and  prepared  from  rice, 
sugar-cane,  the  palm  tree,  and  various 
flowers  and  plants.  Nothing  is  considered 
more  disgraceful  among  orthodox  Hindus 
than  drunkenness,  and  the  use  of  wine  is 
forbidden  not  only  to  Brahmans  but  the 
two  other  orders  as  well... So  it  clearly 
appears  derogatory  to  the  dignity  of  the 
Gods  to  have  received  a  nymph  so  perni- 
cious, who  ought  rather  to  have  been 
made  over  to  the  Titans,  However  the 
etymological  fancy  has  prevailed.  The 
word  Sura,  a  God,  is  derived  from  the 
indeclinable  Srvar  heaven.'  SCHLEGEL. 

a  Literally,  high -eared,  the  horse  of 
Indra.  Compare  the  production  of  the 
horse  from  the  sea  by  Neptune. 

3  '  And  Kaustubha  the  best 

Of  gems  that  burns  with  living  light 

Upon  Lord  Vishnu's  breast.' 

Churning  of  the  Ocean. 


And  fondly,  of  the  lotus-sprung, 

To  lotus-bearing  Vishnu  clung. 

Her  Gods  above  and  men  below 

As  Beauty's  Queen  and  Fortune  know.1 

Gods,  Titans,  and  the  minstrel  train 

Still  churned  and  wrought  the  troubled 

main. 

At  length  the  prize  so  madly  sought, 
The  Amrit,  to  their  sight  was  brought. 
For  the  rich  spoil,  'twixt  these  and  those 
A  fratricidal  war  arose, 
And,  host  'gainst  host  in  battle,  set, 
Aditi's  sons  and  Diti's  met. 
United,  with  the  giants'  aid, 
Their  fierce  attack  the  Titans  made, 
And  wildly  raged  for  many  a  day 
That  universe-astounding  fray. 
When  wearied  arms  were  faint  to  strike, 
And  ruin  threatened  all  alike, 
Vishnu,  with  art's  illusive  aid, 
The  Amrit  from  their  sight  conveyed. 
That  Best  of  Beings  smote  bis  foes 
Who  dared  his  deathless  arm  oppose  : 
Yea,  Vishnu,  all-pervading  God, 
Beneath  his  feet  the  Titans  trod 
Aditi's  race,  the  sons  of  light, 
slew  Diti's  brood  in  cruel  fight. 
Then  town-destroying2  Indra  gained 
His  empire,  and  in  glory  reigned 
O'er  the  three  worlds,  with  bard  and  sage 
Rejoicing  in  his  heritage. 

CANTO  XLVL 


DITI'S  HOPE. 

But  Diti,  when  her  sons  were  slain, 
Wild  with  a  childless  mother's  pain, 
To  Kasyap  spake,  Maricha's  son, 
Her  husband  :  '  O  thou  glorious  one  ! 

1  '  That  this  story  of  the  birth  of  Lak- 
shmi  is  of  considerable  antiquity  is  evident 
from  one  of  hQTraax^esJS.shifdbdhi-tanaydt 
daughter  of  the  Milky  Sea,  which  is  found 
in  Amarasinha  the  most  ancient  of  Indian 
lexicographers.  The  similarity  to  the  Greek 
myth  of  Venus  being  born  from  the  foam 
of  the  sea  is  remarkable.' 

'In  this  description  of  Lakshmi  one 
thing  only  offends  me,  that  she  is  said  to 
have  four  arms.  Each  of  Vishnu's  arms, 
single,  as  far  as  the  elbow,  there  branches 
into  two  ;  but  Lakshmi  in  all  the  brass 
seals  that  I  possess  or  remember  to  have 
seen  has  two  arms  only.  Nor  does  this 
deformity  of  redundant  limbs  suit  the  pat- 
tern of  perfect  beauty.'  SCHLEGEL.  I 
have  omitted  the  offensive  epithet. 

z  Puraudhar,  a  common  title  of  ludra, 


Canto  XLVIL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Dead  are  the  children,  mine  no  more, 
The  mighty  sons  to  thee  I  bore. 
Long  fervour's  meed,  I  crave  a  boy 
Whose  arm  may  Indra's  life  destroy. 
The  toil  and  pain  my  care  shall  be  : 
To  bless  my  hope  depends  on  thee. 
Give  me  a  mighty  son  to  slay 
Fierce  Indra,  gracious  lord  1  I  pray.' 

Then  glorious  Kasyap  thus  replied 
To  Diti,  as  she  wept  and  sighed  : 
'  Thy  prayer  is  heard,  dear  saint  !  Remain 
Pure  from  all  spot,  and  thou  shalt  gain 
A  son  whose  arm  shall  take  the  life 
Of  Indra  in  the  battle  strife. 
For  full  a  thousand  years  endure 
Free  from  all  stain,  supremely  pure  ; 
Then  shall  thy  son  and  mine  appear, 
Whom  the  three  worlds  shall  serve  with 

fear.' 

These  words  the  glorious  Kasyap  said, 
Then  gently  stroked  his  consort's  head, 
Blessed  her,  and  bade  a  kind  adieu, 
And  turned  him  to  his  rites  anew. 
Soon  as  her  lord  had  left  her  side, 
Her  bosom  swelled  with  joy  and  pride. 
She  sought  the  shade  of  holy  boughs, 
And  there  began  her  awful  vows. 
While  yet  she  wrought  her  rites  austere, 
Indra,  unbidden,  hastened  near, 
With  sweet  observance  tending  her, 
A  reverential  minister. 
Wood,  water,  fire,  and  grass  he  brought, 
Sweet  roots  and  woodland  fruit  he  sought, 
And  all  her  wants,  the  Thousand-eyed, 
With  never-failing  care,  supplied, 
With  tender  love  and  soft  caress 
Removing  pain  and  weariness. 

When,  of  the  thousand  years  ordained, 
Ten  only  unfulfilled  remained, 
Thus  to  her  son,  the  Thousand-eyed, 
The  Goddess  in  her  triumph  cried  : 
'Best  of  the  mighty  !  there  remain 
But  ten  short  years  of  toil  and  pain; 
These  years  of  penance  soon  will  flee, 
And  a  new  brother  thou  shalt  see. 
Him  for  thy  sake  I  '11  nobly  breed, 
And  lust  of  war  his  soul  shall  feed  ; 
Then  free  from  care  and  sorrow  thou 
Shalt  see  the  worlds  before  him  bow.'1 

CANTO   XLVII. 


SUM  AT  I. 


Thus  to  Lord  Indra,  Thousand-eyed, 
Softly  beseeching  Diti  sighed. 


When  but  a  blighted  bud  was  left, 
Which  Indra's  hand  in  seven  had  cleft :! 
No  fault.  0  Lord  of  Gods,  is  thine  ; 
The  blame  herein  is  only  mine. 
But  for  one  grace  I  fain  Would  pray, 
As  thou  hast  reft  this  hope  away. 
This  bud,  0  Indra,  which  a  blight 
Has  withered  ere  it  saw  the  light—* 
From  this  may  seven  fair  spirits  rise 
To  rule  the  regions  of  the  skies. 
Be  theirs  through  heaven's   unbounded 

space 

On  shoulders  of  the  winds  to  race, 
My  children,  drest  in  heavenly  forms, 
Far-famed  as  Maruts,  Gods  of  storms. 
One  God  to  Brahma's  sphere  assign, 
Let  one.  O  Indra,  watch  o'er  thine ; 
And  ranging  through  the  lower  air, 
The  third  the  name  of  V^yu54  bear. 
Gods  let  the  four  remaining  be, 
And  roam  through  space,  obeying  thee.1 

The  Town-destroyer,  Thousand-eyed, 
Who  smote  fierce  Bali  till  he  died, 
Joined  suppliant  hands,  and  thus  replied : 
'  Thy  children  heavenly  forms  shall  wear ; 
The  names  devised  by  thee  shall  bear, 
And,  Maruts  called  by  my  decree, 
Shall  Amrit  drink  and  wait  on  me. 
From  fear  and  age  and  sickness  freed, 
Through  the  three   worlds    their   wing3 
shall  speed/ 

Thus  in  the  hermits'  holy  shade 
Mother  and  son  their  compact  made, 
And  then,  as  fame  relates,  content, 
Home  to  the  happy  skies  they  went. 
This  is  the  spot — so  men  have  told — 
Where  Lord  Mahendra3  dwelt  of  old, 
This  is  the  blessed  region  where 
His  votaress  mother  claimed  his  care. 
Here  gentle  Alambusha  bare 
To  old  Ikshvaku,  king  and  sage, 
Visala,  glory  of  his  age, 
Bv  whom,  a  monarch  void  of  guilt, 
Was  this  fair  town  Visala  built. 


1  A  few  verses  are  here  left  untranslated 
on  account  of  the  subject  and  language 
"being  offensive  to  modern  taste, 


i  *  In  this  myth  of  Indra  destrying  the 
unborn  fruit  of  Diti  with  his  thunder- 
bolt, from  which  afterwards  came  the 
Maruts  or  Gods  of  Wind  and  Storm,  geolo- 
gical phenomena  are,  it  seems,  represented 
under  mythical  images.  In  the  great 
Mother  of  the  Gods  is,  perhaps,  figured 
the  dry  earth :  Indra  the  God  of  thunder 
rends  it  open,  and  there  issue  from  its 
rent  bosom  the  Maruts  or  exhalations  of 
the  earth.  But  such  ancient  myths  are  diffi- 
cult to  interpret  with  absolute  certainty.1 
GORRESIO. 

»  Wind. 

3  Indra,  with  m-ahd,  great,  prefixed, 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  1. 


His  son  was  Hemachandra,  still 
Renowned  for  might  arid  warlike  skill. 
From  him  the  great  Suchandra  came  ; 
His  son,  Dhumrasva,  dear  to  fame. 
Next  followed  royal  Srinjay  ;  then 
Famed  Sahadeva,  lord  of  men. 
Next  came  Kusasva,  good  and  mild, 
Whose  son  was  Somadatta  styled, 
And  Sumati,  his  heir,  the  peer 
Of  Gods  above,  now  governs  here. 
And  ever  through  Ikshvaku's  grace, 
Visala's  kings,  his  noble  race, 
Are  lofty-souled,  and  blest  with  length 
Of  days,  with  virtue,  and  with  strength. 
This  night,  O  prince,  we  here  will  sleep  ; 
And  when  the  day  begins  to  peep, 
Our  onward  way  will  take  with  thee, 
The  king  of  Mithila  to  see.' 

Then  Sumati,  the  king,  aware 
Of  Visvamitra's  advent  there, 
Came  quickly  forth  with  honour  meet 
The  lofty-minded  sage  to  greet. 
Girt  with  his  priest  and  lords  the  king 
Did  low  obeisance,  worshipping. 
With  suppliant  hands,  with  head  inclined, 
Thus  spoke  he  after  question  kind  : 
'  Since  thou  hast  deigned  to  bless  my  sight, 

And  grace  awhile  thy  servant's  seat, 
High  fate  is  mine,  great  Anchorite, 

And  none  may  with  my  bliss  compete.' 


CANTO  XLVIII. 


INDRA  AND  AHALYA, 

When  mutual  courtesies  had  past, 
Visala's  ruler  spoke  at  last : 
*  These  princely  youths,  O  Sage,  who  vie 
In  might  with  "children  of  the  sky, 
Heroic,  born  for  happy  fate, 
With  elephants'  or  lions'  gait, 
Bold  as  the  tiger  or  the  bull, 
With  lotus  eyes  so  large  and  full, 
Armed  with  the  quiver,  sword,  and  bow, 
Whose  figures  like  the  Asvins1  show, 
Like  children  of  the  deathless  Powers, 
Come  freely  to  these  shades  of  ours,3 — 
How  have  they  reached  on  foot  this  place  ? 
What  do  they  seek,  and  what  their  race  ? 
As  sun  and  moon  adorn  the  sky, 
This  spot  the  heroes  glorify. 
Alike  in  stature,  port,  and  mien, 
The  same  fair  form  in  each  is  seen.' 

He  spoke  ;  and  at  the  monarch's  call 
The  best  of  hermits  told  him  all, 


1  The  Heavenly  Twins. 
a  Not  banished  from  heaven  as  the  in- 
terior Gods  and  demigods  sometimes  wer  e. 


How  in  the  grove  with  him  they  dwelt, 
And  slaughter  to  the  demons  dealt. 
Then  wonder  filled  the  monarch's  breast, 
Who  tended  well  each  royal  guest. 
Thus  entertained,  the  princely  pair 
Remained  that  night  and  rested  there, 
And  with  the  morn's  returning  ray 
To  Mithila  pursued  their  way. 

When  Janak's  lovely  city  first 
Upon  their  sight,  yet  distant,  burst, 
The  hermits  all  with  joyful  cries 
Hailed  the  fair  town  that  met  their  eyes. 
Then  Rama  saw  a  holy  wood, 
Close,  in  the  city's  neighbourhood, 
O'ergrown,  deserted,  marked  by  age, 
And  thus  addressed  the  mighty  sage  : 
'  O  reverend  lord,  I  long  to  know 
What  hermit  dwelt  here  long  ago.' 
Then  to  the  prince  his  holy  guide, 
Most  eloquent  of  men,  replied  : 
*  O  Rama,  listen  while  I  tell 
Whose  was  this  grove,  and  what  befell 
When  in  the  fury  of  his  rage 
The  high  saint  cursed  the  hermitage. 
This  was  the  grove — most  lovely  then — 
Of  Gautam,  O  thou  best  of  men. 
Like  heaven  itself,  most  honoured  by 
The  Gods  who  dwell  above  the  sky. 
Here  with  Ahalya,  at  his  side 
His  fervid  task  the  ascetic  plied. 
Years  fled  in  thousands.    On  a  day 
It  chanced  the  saint  had  gone  away, 
When  Town-destroying  Indra  came, 
And  saw  the  beauty  of  the  dame. 
The  sage's  form  the  God  endued, 
And  thus  the  fair  Analyst  wooed  : 
'  Love,  sweet !  should  brook  no  dull  delay 
But  snatch  the  moments  when  he  may.' 
She  knew  him  in  the  saint's  disguise, 
Lord  Indra  of  the  Thousand  eyes, 
But  touched  by  love's  unholy  fire, 
She  yielded  to  the  God's  desire. 

'Now,  Lord  of  Gods!'  she  whispered, 

'flee, 

From  Gautam  save  thyself  and  me.' 
Trembling  with  doubt  and  wild  with  dread 
Lord  Indra  from  the  cottage  fled  ; 
But  fleeing  in  the  grove  he  met 
The  home-returning  anchoret, 
Whose  wrath  the  Gods  and  fiends  would 

shun, 

Such  power  his  fervent  rites  had  won. 
Fresh  from  the  lustral  flood  he  came, 
In  splendour  like  the  burning  flame, 
With  fuel  for  his  sacred  rites, 
And  grass,  the  best  of  eremites. 
The  Lord  of  Gods  was  sad  of  cheer 
To  see  the  mighty  saint  so  near, 
And  when  the  holy  hermit  spied 
In  hermit's  garb  the  Thousand-eyed, 


Canto  L. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


61 


He  knew  the  whole,  his  fury  broke 
Forth  on  the  sinner  as  he  spoke  : 

Because  my  form  thou  hast  assumed, 
And  wrought  this  folly,  thou  art  doomed. 
-For  this  my  curse  to  thee  shall  cling, 
Henceforth  a  sad  and  sexless  thing.' 

No  empty  threat  that  sentence  came, 
It  chilled  his  soul  and  marred  his  frame, 
His  might  and  godlike  vigour  fled, 
And  every  nerve  was  cold  and  dead. 

Then  on  his  wife  his  fury  burst, 
And  thus  the  guilty  danie  he  curbed  : 
'For  countless  years,  disloyal  spouse, 
Devoted  to  severest  vows, 
Thy  bed  the  ashes,  air  thy  food, 
Here  shalt  thou  live  in  solitude. 
This  lonely  grove  thy  home  shall  be, 
And  not  an  eye  thy  form  shall  see. 
When  Kama,  Dasaratha's  child, 
Shall  seek  these  shades  then  drear  and  wild, 
His  cjming  shall  remove  thy  stain, 
Aad  make  the  sinner  pure  again. 
Due  honour  paid  to  him.  thy  guest, 
Shall  cleanse  thy  fond  and  erring  breast. 
Thee  to  my  side  in  bliss  restore, 
And  give  thy  proper  shape  once  more.'1 

Thus  to  his  guilty  wife  he  said, 
Then  far  the  holy  Gautam  fled. 
And  on  Himalaya's  lovely  heights 
Spent  the  long  years  in  sternest  rites.' 


CANTO  XLIX. 

AHALYA  FREED. 



Then  Kama,  following  still  his  guide, 
Within  the  grove,  with  Lakshman,  hied. 
Her  vows  a  wondrous  light  had  lent 
To  that  illustrious  penitent. 
He  saw  the  glorious  lady,  screened 
From  eye  of  man,  and  Grod.  and  liend, 
Like  some  bright  portent  which  the  care 
Of  Brahma  launches  through  the  air, 
Designed  by  his  illusive  art 
To  flash  a  moment  and  depart  : 
Or  like  the  flame  that  leaps  on  high 
To  sink  involved  in  smoke  and  die  : 

1  '  Rumania  says:  'In  the  same  manner, 
if  it  is  said  that  Indra  was  the  seducer  of 
Ahalya.  this  does  not  imply  that  the  God 
Indra  committed  such  a  crime,  but  Indra 
means  the  sun,  and  Ahalya  (from  ahan 
and  li)  the  night;  and  as  the  night  is 
seduced  and  ruined  by  the  sun  of  the 
morning,  therefore  is  Indra  called  the 
paramour  of  Ahalya.'  MAX  MULLER, 
History  of  Ancient  Sanskrit  Literature, 
p,  $30. 


Or  like  the  full  moon  shining  through 
The  wintry  mist,  then  lost  to  view  : 
Or  like  the  sun's  reflection,  cast 
Upon  the  flood,  too  bright  to  last : 
So  was  the  glorious  dame  till  then 
Removed  from  Gods'  and  mortals'  ken, 
Till — such  was  Gautam's  high  decree — 
Prince  Kama  c.ame  t)  set  her  free. 

Then,  with  great  joy  that  dame  to  meet, 
The  sons  of  Raghu  clasped  her  feet; 
And  she.  remembering  Gautanvs  oath, 
With  gentle  grace  received  them  both  ; 
Then  water  for  their  feet  she  gave, 
Guest-gift,  and  all  that  strangers  crave. 

The  prince,  of  courteous  rule  aware, 
Received,  as  meet,  the  lady's  care. 
Then  flowers  came  down  in  copious  rain, 
And  moving  to  the  heavenly  strain 
Of  music  in  the  skies  that  rang, 
The  nymphs  and  minstrels  danced  and 

sang  : 

And  all  the  Gods  with  one  glad  voice 
Praised  the  great  dame, and  cried,  'Rejoice! 
Through  fervid  rites  no  more  defiled, 
But  with  thy  husband  reconciled.' 
Gautam,  the  holy  hermit  knew — 
For  naught  escaped  his  godlike  view — 
Tiiat  Rama  lodged  beneath  that  shade, 
And  hasting  there  his  homage  paid. 
He  took  Ahalya  to  his  side, 
From  sin  and  folly  purified, 
And  let  his  new-found  consort  bear 
In  his  austerities  a  share. 

Then  Rama,  pride  of  Kaghu's  race, 
Welcomed  by  Gautam,  face  to  face, 
Whj  every  highest  honour  showed, 
To  Mithilti  pursued  his  road. 


CANTO  L. 

JANAK. 

The  sons  of  Raghu  journeyed  forth, 
Bending  their  steps  'twixt  east  and  north. 
Soon,  guided  by  the  sage,  they  found, 
Enclosed,  a  sacrificial  ground. 
Then  to  the  best  of  saints,  his  guide, 
In  admiration  Rama  cried  : 
'  The  high-souled  king  no  toil  has  spared, 
But  nobly  for  his  rite  prepared. 
How  many  thousand  Brahmans  here, 
From  every  region,  far  and  near, 
Well  read  in  holy  lore,  appear  ! 
How  many  tents,  that  sages  screen, 
With  wains  in  hundreds,  here  are  seen  ! 
Great  Brahman,  let  us  find  a  place 
Where  we  may  stay  and  rest  a  space.' 
The  hermit  did  as  Rama  prayed, 
And  iu  a  spot  his  lodging  made, 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


Far  from  the  crowd,  sequestered,  clear, 
With  copious  water  flowing  near. 

Then  Janak,  best  of  kings,  aware 
Of  Visvamitra  lodging  there, 
With  Satananda  for  his  guide — 
The  priest  on  whom  he  most  relied. 
His  chaplain  void  of  guile  and  stain — 
And  others  of  his  priestly  train, 
Bearing  the  gift  that  greets  the  guest, 
To  meet  him  with  all  honour  pressed. 
The  saint  received  with  gladsome  mind 
Each  honour  and  observance  kind  : 
Tli en  of  his  health  he  asked  the  king, 
And  how  his  rites  were  prospering, 
Janak,  with  chaplain  and  with  priest, 
Addressed  the  hermits,  chief  and  least, 
Accosting  all,  in  due  degree, 
With  proper  words  of  courtesy. 
Then,  with  his  palms  together  laid, 
The  king  his  supplication  made : 
'Deign,  reverend  lord,  to  sit  thee  down 
With  these  good  saints  of  high  renown.' 
Then  sate  the  chief  of  hermits  there, 
Obedient  to  the  monarch's  prayer. 
Chaplain  and  priest,  and  king  and  peer, 
Sate  in  their  order,  far  or  near. 
Then  thus  the  king  began  to  say  : 
'  The  Gods  have  blest  my  rite  to-day, 
And  with  the  sight  of  thee  repaid 
The  preparations  I  have  made. 
Grateful  am  I,  so  highly  blest, 
That  thou,  of  saints  the  holiest, 
Hast  come,  O  Brahman,  here  with  all 
These  hermits  to  the  festival. 
Twelve  days,  O  Brahman  Sage,  remain — 
For  so  the  learned  priests  ordain — 
And  then,  O  heir  of  Kusik's  name, 
The  Gods  will  come  their  dues  to  claim.' 

With  looks  that  testified  delight 
Thus  spake  he  to  the  anchorite, 
Then  with  his  suppliant  hands  upraised, 
He  asked,  as  earnestly  he  gazed  : 
*  These  princely  youths,  O  Sage,  who  vie 
In  might  with  children  of  the  sky, 
Heroic,  born  for  happy  fate, 
With  elephants'  or  lions'  gait, 
Bold  as  the  tiger  and  the  bull, 
With  lotus  eyes  so  large  and  full, 
Armed  with  the  quiver,  sword  and  bow, 
Whose  figures  like  the  Asvins  show, 
Like  children  of  the  heavenly  Powers, 
Come  freely  to  these  shades  of  ours,— 
How  have  they  reached  on  foot  this  place  ? 
What  do  they  seek,  and  what  their  race  1 
As  sun  and  moon  adorn  the  sky, 
This  spot  the  heroes  glorify  : 
Alike  in  stature,  port,  and  mien, 
The  same  fair  form  in  each  is  seen.'1 

1  *The  preceding    sixteen    lines  have 
occurred  before  in  Canto  XLVIII.    This 


Thus  spoke  the  monarch,  lofty-souled  : 
The  saint,  of  heart  unfathomed,  told 
How,  sons  of  Dasaratha,  they 
Accompanied  his  homeward  way, 
How  in  the  hermitage  they  dwelt,  ' 
And  slaughter  to  the  demons  dealt : 
Their  journey  till  the  spot  they  neared 
Whence  fair  Visala's  towers  appeared  : 
Ahalya  seen  and  freed  from  taint ; 
Their  meeting  with  her  lord  the  saint ; 
And  how  they  thither  came,  to  know 
The  virtue  of  the  famous  bow. 

Thus  Visvamitra  spoke  the^whole 
To  royal  Janak.  great  of  soul. 
And  when  this  wondrous  tale  was  o'er, 
The  glorious  hermit^said  no  more. 


CANTO  LI. 


VISVAMITRA. 

Wise  Visvamitra's  tale  was  done  : 

Then  sainted  Gautam's  eldest  son, 

Great  Satananda,  far-renowned, 

Whom  long  austerities  had  crowned 

With  glory.— as  the  news  he  heard 

The  down  upon  his  body  stirred, — 

Filled  full  of  wonder  at  the  sight 

Of  Rama,  felt  supreme  delight. 

When  Satananda  saw  the  pair 

Of  youthful  princes  seated  there, 

He  turned  him  to  the  holy  man 

Who  sate  at  ease,  and  thus  began  : 

4  And  didst  thou,  mighty  Sage,  in  truth1 

Show  clearly  to  this  royal  youth 

My  mother,  glorious  far  and  wide, 

Whom  penance-rites  have  sanctified  ? 

And  did  my  glorious  mother — she, 

Heiress  of  noble  destiny — 

Serve  her  great  guest  with  woodland  store, 

Whom  all  should  honour  evermore  1 

Didst  thou  the  tale  to  Rama  tell 

Of  what  in  ancient  days  befell, 

The  sin,  the  misery,  and  the  shame 

Of  guilty  God  and  faithless  dame? 

And,  O  thou  best  of  hermits,  say, 

Did  Rama's  healing  presence  stay 

Her  trial  ?  was  the  wife  restored 

Again  to  him,  my  sire  and  lord? 

Say,  Hermit,  did  that  sire  of  mine 

Receive  her  with  a  soul  benign, 

When  long  austerities  in  time 

Had  cleansed  her  from  the  taint  ofjcrimef 

Homeric  custom  of  repeating  a  passage  of 
several  lines  is  strange  to  our  poet.  This 
is  the  only  instance  1  remember.  The 
repetition  of  single  lines  is  common 
enough.'  SCHLEGEL. 


Canto  LII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


And,  son  of  Kusik,  let  me  know, 
Did  my  great-minded  father  show 
Honour  to  Rama,  and  regard, 
Before  he  journeyed  hitherward  ? J 
The  hermit  with  attentive  ear 
Marked  all  the  questions  of  the  seer  : 
To  him  for  eloquence  far-famed, 
His  eloquent  reply  he  framed  : 
'  Yea,  'twas  my  care  no  task  to  shun, 
And  all  I  had  to  do  was  done  ; 
As  Renuka  and  Bhrigu's  child, 
The  saint  and  dame  were  reconciled.* 

When  the  great  sage  had  thus  replied, 
To  Rama  $atananda  cried  : 
'A  welcome  visit,  Prince,  is  thine, 
Thou  scion  of  King  Raghu's  line, 
With  him  to  guide  thy  way  aright, 
This  sage  invincible  in  might, 
This  Brahman  sage,  most  glorious-bright, 
By  long  austerities  has  wrought 
A  wondrous  deed,  exceeding  thought : 
Thou  knowest  well,  O  strong  of  arm, 
This  sure  defence  from  scathe  and  harm. 
None,  Rama,  none  is  living  now 
In  all  the  earth  more  blest  than  thou, 
That  thou  hast  won  a  saint  so  tried 
In  fervid  rites  thy  life  to  guide. 
Now  listen,  Prince,  while  I  relate 
His  lofty  deeds  and  wondrous  fate. 
He  was  a  monarch  pious-souled, 
His  foemen  in  the  dust  he  rolled  ; 
Most  learned,  prompt  at  duty's  claim, 
His  people's  good  his  joy  and  aim. 

Of  old  the  Lord  of  Life  gave  birth 
To  mighty  Kusa,  king  of  earth. 
His  son  was  Kusanabha,  strong, 
Friend  of  the  right,  the  foe  of  wrong. 
Gadhi,  whose  fame  no  time  shall  dim, 
Heir  of  his  throne  was  born  to  him, 
And  Visvamitra,  Gadhi's  heir, 
Governed  the  land  with  kingly  care. 
While  years  unnumbered  rolled  away 
The  monarch  reigned  with  equal  sway. 
At  length,  assembling  many  a  band, 
He  led  his  warriors  round  the  land- 
Complete  in  tale,  a  mighty  force, 
Oars,  elephants,  and  foot,  and  horse. 
Through  cities,  groves,  and  floods  he  passed, 
O'er  lofty  hills,  through  regions  vast. 
He  reached  Vasishtha's  pure  abode, 
Where  trees,  and  flowers,  and    creepers 

glowed, 

Where  troops  of  sylvan  creatures  fed ; 
Which  saints  and  angels  visited. 
Gods,  fauns,  and  bards  of  heavenly  race, 
And  spirits,  glorified  the  place  ; 
The  deer  their  timid  ways  forgot, 
And  holy  Brahmans  thronged  the  spot. 
Bright  in  their  souls,  like  fire,  were  these, 
Made  pure  by  long  austerities, 
Bound  by  the  rule  of  vows  serere, 


And  each  in  glory  Brahma's  peer. 
Some  fed  on  water,  some  on  air, 
Some  on  the  leaves  that  withered  there. 
Roots  and  wild  fruit  were  others'  food  ; 
All  rage  was  checked,  each  sense  subdued, 
There  Balakhilyas1  went  and  came. 
Now  breathed   the  prayer,  now  fed  the 

flame  : 

These,  and  ascetic  bands  beside, 
The  sweet  retirement  beautified. 
Such  was  Vasishtha's  blest  retreat, 
Like  Brahma's  own  celestial  seat, 
Which  gladdened  Visvamitra's  eye*, 
Peerless  for  warlike  enterprise. 


CANTO  LII. 

VA&ISHTHA'S  FEAST. 

Right  glad  was  Visvamitra  when 
He  saw  the  prince  of  saintly  men. 
Low  at  his  feet  the  hero  bent, 
And  did  obeisance,  reverent. 

The  king  was  welcomed  in,  and  shown 
A  seat  beside  the  hermit's  own, 
Who  offered  him,  when  resting  there, 
Fruit  in  due  course,  and  woodland  fare. 
And  Visvamitra,  noblest  king, 
Received  Vasishtha's  welcoming, 
Turned  to  his  host,  and  prayed  him  tell 
That  he  and  all  with  him  were  well. 
Vasishtha  to  the  king  replied 
That  all  was  well  on  every  side, 
That  fire,  and  vows,  and  pupils  throve, 
And  all  the  trees  within  the  grove. 
A.nd  then  the  son  of  Brahma,  best 
Of  all  who  pray  with  voice  suppressed, 
Questioned  with  pleasant  words  like  these 
The  mighty  king  who  sate  at  ease  : 
*And  is  it  well  with  thee?  1  pray; 
And  dost  thou  win  by  virtuous  sway 
Thy  people's  love,  discharging  all 
The  duties  on  a  king  that  fall  ? 
Are  all  thy  servants  fostered  well  ? 
Do  all  obey,  and  none  rebel  ? 
Hast  thou,  destroyer  of  the  foe, 
No  enemies  to  overthrow  ? 
Does  fortune,  conqueror  !  still  attend 
Thy  treasure,  host,  and  every  friend? 
Is  it  all  well  ?    Does  happy  fate 
On  sons  and  children's  children  wait?7 

He  spoke.    The  modest  king  replied 
That  all  was  prosperous  far  and  wide. 


1  Divine  personages  of  minute  size  pro- 
duced from  the  hair  of  Brahma,  and  pro- 
bably the  origin  of 

*  That  small  infantry 
Warred  on  by  cranes.' 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


Thus  for  awhile  the  two  conversed, 
As  each  to  each  his  tale  rehearsed, 
And  as  the  happy  moments  flew, 
Their  joy  and  friendship  stronger  grew. 
When  such  discourse  had  reached  an  end, 
Thus  spoke  the  saint  most  reverened 
To  royal  Visvjimitra,  while 
His  features  brightened  with  a  smile  : 
'()  mighty  lord  of  men,  I  fain 
Would  banquet  thee  and  all  thy  train 
In  mode  that  suits  thy  station  high  : 
And  do  not  thou  my  prayer  deny. 
Let  my  good  lord  with  favour  take 
The  offering  that  I  fain  would  make, 
And  let  me  honour,  ere  we  part, 
My  royal  guest  with  loving  heart.' 

Him  Visvamitra  thus  addressed  : 
'  Why  make,  O  Saint,  this  new  request? 
Thy  welcome  and  each  gracious  word 
Sufficient  honour  have  conferred. 
Thou  gavest  roots  and  fruit  to  eat, 
The  treasures  of  this  pure  retreat, 
And  water  for  my  mouth  and  feet ; 
And — boon  I  prize  above  the  rest — 
Thy  presence  has  mine  eyesight  blest. 
Honoured  by  thee  in  every  way, 
To  whom  all  honour  all  should  pay, 
I  now  will  go.    My  lord,  Good-bye  1 
Regard  me  with  a  friendly  eye.' 

Him  speaking  thus  Vasishtha  stayed, 
And  still  to  share  his  banquet  prayed. 
The  will  of  Gadhi's  son  he  bent, 
And  won  the  monarch  to  consent, 
Who  spoke  in  answer,  '  Let  it  be, 
Great  Hermit,  as  it  pleases  thee.' 
When,  best  of  those  who  breathe  the  prayer, 
He  heard  the  king  his  will  declare, 
He  called  the  cow  of  spotted  skin, 
All  spot  without,  all  pure  within. 
'  Come,  Dapple-skin,'  he  cried,  «  with  speed ; 
Hear  thou  my  words  and  help  at  need. 
My  heart  is  set  to  entertain 
This  monarch  and  his  mighty  train 
With  sumptuous  meal  and  worthy  fare ; 
JBe  thine  the  banquet  to  prepare. 
Each  dainty  cate,  each  goodly  dish, 
Of  six-fold  taste1  as  each  may  wish — 
All  these,  O  cow  of  heavenly  power, 
Rain  down  for  me  in  copious  shower  : 
Viands  and  drink  for  tooth  and  lip, 
To  eat,  to  suck,  t  >  quaff,  to  sip — 
Of  these  sufficient,  and  to  spare, 
O  plenty-giving  cow,  prepare.' 


1  Sweet,  salt,  pungent,  bitter,  acid,  and 
astringent, 


CANTO  LI1I. 
VlSVA'MITRA'S  REQUEST. 

Thus  charged,  O  slayer  of  thy  foes, 
The  cow  from  whom  all  plenty  flows, 
Obedient  to  her  saintly  lord, 
Viands  to  suit  eacli  taste,  outpoured. 
Honey  she  gave,  and  roasted  grain, 
Mead  sweet  with  flowers,  and  sugar-cane. 
Each  beverage  of  flavour  rare, 
An  food  of  every  sort,  were  there  : 
Hills  of  hot  rice,  and  sweetened  cakes, 
And  curdled  milk  and  soup  in  lakes. 
Vast  beakers  foaming  to  the  brim 
With  sugared  drink  prepared  for  him, 
And  dainty  sweetmeats,  deftly  made, 
Before  the  hermit's  guests  were  laid. 
So  well  regaled,  so  nobly  fed, 
The  mighty  army  banqueted, 
And  all  the  train,  from  chief  to  least, 
Delighted  in  Vasishtha's  feast. 
Then  Visvamitra,  royal  sage, 
Surrounded  by  his  vassalage, 
Prince,  peer,  and  counsellor,  and  all 
From  highest  lord  to  lowest  thrall, 
Thus  feasted,  to  Vasishtha  cried 
With  joy,  supremely  gratified  : 
*  Rich  honour  I,  thus  entertained, 
Most  honourable  lord,  have  gained  : 
Now  hear,  before  I  journey  hence, 
My  words,  0  skilled  in  eloquence. 
Bought  for  a  hundred^thqusand  kme, 
Let  Dapple-skin,  O  Saint,  be  mine. 
A  wondrous  jewel  is  thy  cow, 
And  gems  are  for  the  monarch  s  brow.1 
To  me  her  rightful  lord  resign 
This  Dapple-skin  thou  callest  thine. 

The  great  Vasishtha,  thus  addressed, 
Arch-hermit  of  the  "holy  breast, 
To  Visvamitra  answer  made, 
The  king  whom  all  the  land  obeyed  : 
Not  for  a  hundred  thousand,— nay, 
Not  if  ten  million  thou  wouldst  pay, 
With  silver  heaps  the  price  to  swell,— 
Will  I  my  cow,  O  Monarch,  sell. 
Unmeet  for  her  is  such  a  fate. 
That  I  my  friend  should  alienate. 
As  glory  with  the  virtuous,  she 
For  ever  makes  herjjhome  withfme. 
On  her  mine  offerings  which  ascend 
To  Gods  and  spirits  all  depend  : 
My  very  life  is  due  to  her, 
My  guardian,  friend,  and  minister. 

i  '  Of    old   hoards  and  minerals  in  the 

earth,  the  king  is  entitled  toihalf  by  reason 

of  his  general  protection,  >nd  because  he 

is  the  lord  paramount  of  the  soil.'  j 

MAMJ,  Book  VIII.  39. 


Canto  LIV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


65 


The  feeding  of  the  sacred  flame,1 

The  dole  which  living  creatures  claim.2 

The  mighty  sacrifice  by  fire, 

Each  formula  the  rites  require,3 

And  various  saving  lore  beside, 

Are  by  her  aid,  in  sooth,  supplied. 

The  banquet  which  thy  host  has  shared, 

Believe  it,  was  by  her  prepared. 

In  her  mine  only  treasures  lie, 

She  cheers  mine  heart  and  charms  mine  eye. 

And  reasons  more  could  I  assign 

Why  Dapple-skin  can  ne'er  be  thine.' 

The  royal  sage,  his  suit  denied, 
With  eloquence  more  earnest  cried  : 
'Tusked  elephants,  a  goodly  train, 
Each  with  a  golden  girth  and  chain, 
Whose  goads  with  gold  well  fashioned 

shine — 

Of  these  be  twice  seven  thousand  thine. 
And  four-horse  cars  with  gold  made  bright, 
With  steeds  most  beautifully  white, 
Whose  bells  make  music  as  they  go, 
Eight  hundred,  Saint,  will  I  bestow. 
Eleven  thousand  mettled  steeds 
From  famous  lands,  of  noble  breeds — 
These  will  I  gladly  give,  O  thou 
Devoted  to  each  holy  vow. 
Ten  million  heifers,  fair  to  view, 
Whose  sides  are  marked  with  every  hue— 
These  in  exchange  will  I  assign  ; 
But  let  thy  Dapple-skin  be  mine. 
Ask  what  thouwilt,  and  piles  untold 
Of  priceless  gems  and  gleaming  gold, 
O  best  of  Brahmans,  shall  be  thine ; 
But  let  thy  Dapple-skin  be  mine.' 

The  great  Vasishtha,  thus  addressed, 
Made  answer  to  the  king's  request : 
*  Ne'er  will  I  give  my  cow  away, 
My  gem,  my  wealth,  my  life  and  stay. 
My  worship  at  the  moon's  first  show, 
And  at  the  full,  to  her  I  owe  ; 
And  sacrifices  small  and  great, 
Which  largess  due  and  gifts  await. 
From  her  alone,  their  root,  O  King, 


1  Ghi  or  clarified  butter,  *  holy  oil,'  being 
one  of  the  essentials  of  sacrifice. 

1  'A  Brahman  had  five  principal  duties 
to  discharge  every  day :  study  ana  teaching 
the  Veda,  oblations  to  the  manes  or  spirits 
of  the  departed,  sacrifice  to  the  Gods,  hos- 
pitable offerings  to  men,  and  a  gift  of 
food  to  all  creatures.  The  last  consisted 
of  rice  or  other  grain  which  the  Brahman 
was  to  offer  every  day  outside  his  house 
in  the  open  air.  MANU,  Book  III.  70.' 
GORRESIO. 

3  These  were  certain  sacred  words  of 
invocation  such  a  svdkd  vashat,  etc.,  pro- 
nounced at  the  time  of  sacrifice, 


My  rites  and  holy  service  spring. 
What  boots  it  further  words  to  say  ? 
I  will  not  give  my  cow  away 
Who  yields  me  what  I  ask  each  day.' 


CANTO  LIV. 


THE  BATTLE. 

As  Saint  Vasishtha  answered  so, 

.Nor  let  the  cow  of  plenty  go, 

The  monarch,  as  a  last  resource, 

Began  to  drag  her  off  by  force. 

While  the  king's  servants  tore  away 

Their  moaning,  miserable  prey, 

Sad,  sick  at  heart,  and  sore  distressed, 

She  pondered  thus  within  her  breast : 

4  Why  am  I  thus  forsaken  ?  why 

Betrayed  by  him  of  soul  most  high, 

Vasishtha,  ravished  by  the  hands 

Of  soldiers  of  the  monarch's  bands? 

Ah  me  !  what  evil  have  I  done 

Against  the  lofty -minded  one, 

That  he,  so  pious,  can  expose 

The  innocent  whose  love  he  knows  ? ' 

In  her  sad  breast  as  thus  she  thought, 

And  heaved  deep    sighs    with    anguish 

fraught, 

With  wondrous  speed  away  she  fled, 
And  back  to  Saint  Vasishtha  sped. 
She  hurled  by  hundreds  to  the  ground 
The  menial  crew  that  hemmed  her  round, 
And  flying  swifter  than  the  blast 
Before  the  saint  herself  she  cast. 
There  Dapple-skin  before  the  saint 
Stood  moaning  forth  her  sad  complaint, 
And  wept  and  lowed  :  such  tones  as  couie 
From  wandering  cloud  or  distant  drum, 

*  O  son  of  Brahma,'  thus  cried  she, 

*  Why  hast  thou  thus  forsaken  me, 
That  the  king's  men,  before  thy  face, 
Bear  off  thy  servant  from  her  place  ? ' 

Then  thus  the  Brahman  saint  replied 
To  her  whose  heart  with  woe  was  tried, 
And  grieving  for  his  favourite's  sake. 
As  to  a  suffering  sister  spake  : 
4 1  leave  thee  not :  dismiss  the  thought  j 
Nor,  duteous,  hast  thou  failed  in  aught 
This  king,  o'erweening  in  the  pride 
Of  power,  has  reft  thee  from  rny  side. 
Little,  I  ween,  my  strength  could  do 
'Gainst  him,  a  mighty  warrior  too. 
Strong,  as  a  soldier  born  and  bred. — 
Great,  as  a  king  whom  regions  dread. 
See  1  what  a  host  the  conqueror  leads, 
With  elephants,  and  cars,  and  steeds. 
O'er  countless  bands  his  pennons  fly  ; 
So  is  he  mightier  far  than  I.' 


THE 


Book  I. 


He  spoke.    Then  she,  in  lowly  mood, 
To  that  high  saint  her  speech  renewed: 
'  So  judge  not  they  who  wisest  are  : 
The  Brahman's  might  is  mightier  far. 
For   Brahmans   strength    from    Heaven 

derive, 

And  warriors  bow  when  Brahmans  strive, 
A  boundless  power  tis  thine  to  wield  : 
To  such  a  king  thou  shouldst  not  yield, 
Who,  very  mighty  though  he  be,— 
So  fierce  thy  strength, -must  bow  to  thee. 
Command  me,  Saint.    Thy  power  divine 
Has  brought  me  here  and  made  me  thine; 
And  I,  howe'er  the  tyrant  boast, 
Will  tame  his  pride  and  slay  his  host.1 
Then  cried  the  glorious  sage  :  *  Create 
A  mighty  force  the  foe  to  mate.' 

She  lowed,  and  quickened  into  life, 
Pahlavas,1  burning  for  the  strife, 
King  Visvamitra's  army  slew 
Before  the  very  leader's  view. 
The  monarch  in  excessive  ire, 
His  eyes  with  fury  darting  fire, 
Rained  every  missile  on  the  foe 
Till  all  the  Pahlavas  were  low. 
She,  seeing  all  her  champions  slain, 
Lying  by  thousands  on  the  plain. 
Created,  by  her  mere  desire, 
Yavans  and  $akas,  fierce  and  dire. 
And  all  the  ground  was  overspread 
With  Yavans  and  with  Sakas  dread  : 
A  host  of  warriors  bright  and  strong, 
And  numberless  in  closest  throng : 
The  threads  within  the  lotus  stem, 
So  densely  packed,  might  equal  them, 
In  gold-hued  mail  'against  war's  attacks, 
Each  bore  a  sword  and  battle-axe. 
The  royal  host,  where'er  these  came, 
Pell  as  if  burnt  with  ravening  flame. 

The  monarch,  famous  through  the  world 
Again  his  fearful  weapons  hurled, 

1  '  It  is  well  known  that  the  Persians 
were  called  Pahlavas  by  the  Indians.  The 
Sakas  are  nomad  tribes  inhabiting  Central 
Asia,  the  Scythes  of  the  Greeks,  whom  the 
Persians  also,  as  Herodotus  tells  us,  called 
Sakse  just  as  the  Indians  did.  Lib.  VII  64 
OL  yap  Hepaai  Travraq  rovq  Sicv^ae. 
KaXlovvi  Sa/cac.  The  name  Yavans 
seems  to  be  used  rather  indefinitely  for 
nations  situated  beyond  Persia  to  the  west 

After  the  time  of  Alexander  the 

Great  the  Indians  as  well  as  the  Persians 
called  the  Greeks  also  Yavans.'  SCHLEGEL. 

Lassen  thinks  that  the  Pahlavas  were 
the  same  people  as  the  Ilafcruec  of  Hero- 
dotus, and  that  this  non- Indian  people, 
dwelt  on  the  north-west  confines  of  India, 


That  made  Kambojas,1  Barbars,*  all, 
With  Yavans,  troubled,  flee  and  fall. 


CANTO  LV. 


THE  HERMITAGE  BURNT. 

So  o'er  the  field  that  host  lay  strown, 
By  Visvamitra's  darts  o'erthrown. 
Then  thus  Vasishtha  charged  the  cow: 
*  Create  with  all  thy  vigour  now.' 

Forth  sprang  Kambojas,  as  she  lowed ; 
Bright  as  the  sun  their  faces  glowed. 
Forth  from  her  udder  Barbars  poured,— 
Soldiers  who  brandished  spear  and  sword,— 
And  Yavans  with  their  shafts  and  darts, 
And  i3akas  from  her  hinder  parts. 
And  every  pore  upon  her  fell, 
And  every  hair-producing  cell, 
With  Mlechchhas3  and  Kiratas4  teemed, 
And  forth  with  them  Haritas  streamed. 
And  Visvamitra's  mighty  force, 
Car,  elephant,  and  foot,  and  horse, 
Fell  in  a  moment's  time,  subdued 
By  that  tremendous  multitude. 
The  monarch's  hundred  sons,  whose  eyes 
Beheld  the  rout  in  wild  surprise, 
Armed  with  all  weapons,  mad  with  rage, 
Rushed  fiercely  on  the  holy  sage. 
One  cry  he  raised,  one  glance  he  shot, 
And  all  fell  scorched  upon  the  spot : 
Burnt  by  the  sage  to  ashes,  they 
With  horse,  and  foot,  and  chariot,  lay. 
The  monarch  mourned,  with  shame  and 

pain, 

His  army  lost,  his  children  slain, 
Like  Ocean  when  his  roar  is  hushed, 
Or  some   great   snake  whose  fangs  are 

crushed : 


1  See  page  13,  note  6. 
a  Barbarians,      non-Sanskrit-speaking 
tribes. 

3  A  comprehensive    term    for    foreign 
or  outcast  races  of   different  faith  and 
language  from  the  Hindus. 

4  The  Kiratas  and  Haritas  are  savage 
aborigines  of  India  who  occupy  hills  and 
jungles  and  are  altogether  different  in  race 
and    character    from    the    Hindus.    Dr. 
Muir  remarks  in  his  Sanskrit  Texts,  Vol. 
I.  p.  488  (second  edition)  that  it  does  not 
appear  that  it  is  the  object  of  this  legend 
to  represent  this  miraculous  creation  as 
the  origin  of  these  tribes,  and  that  nothing 
more  may  have  been  intended  than  that 
the  cow  called  into  existence  large  armies, 
of  the  same  stock  with  particular  tribe* 
previously  existing, 


Canto  LVI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


67 


Or  as  in  swift  eclipse  the  Sun 

Dark  witli  the  doom  he  cannot  shun  : 

Or  a  poor  bird  with  mangled  wing — 

So,  reft  of  sons  and  host,  the  king. 

No  longer,  hy  ambition  fired. 

The  pride  of  war  his  breast  inspired. 

He  gave  his  empire  to  his  son— 

Of  all  he  had,  the  only  one  : 

And  bade  him  rule  as  kings  are  taught 

Then  straight  a  hermit-grove  he  sought. 

Far  to  Himalaya's  side  he  fled, 

Which  bards  and  Nagas  visited, 

And,  Mahadeva's1  grace  to  earn, 

He  gave  his  life  to  penance  stern. 

A  lengthened  season  thus  passed  by, 

When  Diva's  self,  the  Lord  most  High, 

Whose  banner  shows  the  pictured  bull,2 

Appeared,  the  God  most  bountiful : 

'Why  fervent  thus  in  toil  and  pain  ? 
What  brings  thee  here/  what  boon  to  gain? 
Thy  heart's  desire,  O  Monarch,  speak  : 
I  grant  the  boons  which  mortals  seek.' 
The  king,  his  adoration  paid, 
To  Mahadeva  answer  made: 
'  If  thou  hast  deemed  me  fit  to  win 
Thy  favour.  O  thou  void  of  sin, 
On  me,  0  mighty  God,  bestow 
The  wondrous  science  of  the  bow, 
All  mine,  complete  in  every  part, 
With  secret  spell  and  mystic  art. 
To  me  be  all  the  arms  revealed 
That  Gods,  and  saints,  and  Titans  wield, 
And  every  dart  that  arms  the  hands 
Of  spirits,  fiends  and  minstrel  bands. 
Be  mine,  O  Lord  supreme  in  place, 
This  token  of  thy  boundless  grace.' 

The  Lord  of  Gods  then  gave  consent, 
And  to  his  heavenly  mansion  went. 
Triumphant  in  the  arms  he  held, 
The  monarch's  breast  with  glory  swelled. 
So  swells  the  ocean,  when  upon 
His  breast  the  full  moon's  beams  have 

shone. 

Already  in  his  niind  he  viewed 
Vasishtha  at  his  feet  subdued. 
He  sought  that  hermit's  grove,*and  there 
Launched  his  dire  weapons  through  the  air, 
Till  scorched  by  might  that  none  could  stay 
The  hermitage  in  ashes  lay. 
Where'er  the  inmates  saw,  aghast, 
The  dart  that  Visvamitra  cast. 
To  every  side  they  turned  and  fled 
In  hundreds  forth  disquieted. 
Vasishtha's  pupils  caught  the  fear, 
And-  every  bird  and  every  deer, 
And  fled  in  wild  confusion  forth 


1  The  Great  God,  $iva. 

2  Nandi,  the  snow-white  bull,  the  atten 
cUnt  and  favourite  vehicle  of  £iva. 


Eastward  and  westward,  south  and  north, 

And  so  Vasishtha's  holy  shade 

A  solitary  wild  was  made. 

Silent  awhile,  for  not  a  sound 
disturbed  the  hush  that  was  around. 
Vasishtha  then,  with  eager  cry, 
tailed,  'Fear  not,  friends,  nor  seek  to  fly. 
This  son  of  Gadhi  dies  to-day, 
like  hoar-frost  in  the  morning's  ray.' 
Thus  having  said,  the  glorious  sage 
Spoke  to  the  king  in  words  of  rage  : 
Because  thou  hast  destroyed  this  grove 
Which  long  in  holy  quiet  throve, 
By  folly  urged  to  senseless  crime, 
tfow  shalt  thou  die  before  thy  time.' 


CANTO  LVL 


VI&VAMITRA'S  VOW. 

But  Visvamitra,  at  the  threat 
Of  that  illustrious  anchoret, 
Cried,  as  he  launched  with  ready  hand 
A  fiery  weapon,  *  Stand,  0  Stand  ! ' 
Vasishtha,  wild  with  rage  and  hate, 
Raising,  as  '  twere  the  Rod  of  Fate, 
His  mighty  Brahman  wand  on  high, 
To  Visvamitra  made  reply  : 
*  Nay,  stand.  0  Warrior  thou,  and  show 
What  soldier  can,  '  gainst  Brahman  foe. 
0  Gadhi's  son,  thy  days  are  told  ; 
Thy  pride  is  tamed,  thy  dart  is  cold. 
How  shall  a  warrior's  puissance  dare 
With  Brahman's  awful  strength  compare? 
To-day,  base  Warrior,  shalt  thou  feel 
That  God-sent  might  is  more  than  steel.' 
He  raised  his  Brahman  staff,  nor  missed 
ri'he  fiery  dart  that  near  him  hissed  : 
And  quenched  the  fearful  weapon  fell, 
As  flame  beneath  the  billow's  swell. 

Then  Gadhi's  son  in  fury  threw 
Lord  Varun's  arm  and  Rudra's  too  : 
Tndra's  tierce  bolt  that  all  destroys  ; 
That  which  the  Lord  of  Herds  employs  : 
The  Human,  that  which  minstrels  keep, 
The  deadly  Lure,  the  endless  Sleep  : 
The  Yawner,  and  the  dart  which  charms  ; 
Lament  and  Torture,  fearful  arms  : 
The  Terrible,  the  dart  which  dries, 
The  Thunderbolt  which  quenchless  flies, 
And  Fate's  dread  net,  and  Brahma's  noose, 
And  that  which  waits  for  Varun's  use : 
The  dart  he  loves  who  wields  the  bow 
Pinaka,  and  twin  bolts  that  glow 
With  fury  as  they  flash  and  fly, 
The  quenchless  Liquid  and  the  Dry  : 
The  dart  of  Vengeance,  swift  to  kill : 
The  Goblins'  durt,  the  Curlew's  Bill : 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boolt  L 


The  discus  both  of  Fate  and  "Right, 
And  Vishnu's,  of  unerring  flight : 
The  Wind-God's  dart,  the  Troubler  dread, 
The  weapon  named  the  Horse's  Head. 
From    his  fierce  hand  two  spears  were 

thrown, 

And  the  great  mace  that  smashes  bone  : 
The  dart  of  spirits  of  the  air, 
And  that  which  Fate  exults  to  bear  : 
The  Trident  dart  which  slaughters  foes, 
And  that  which  hanging  skulls  compose  :! 
These  fearful  darts  in  fiery  rain 
He  hurled  upon  the  sain$  amain, 
An  awful  miracle  to  view. 
But  as  the  ceaseless  tempest  flew, 
The  sage  with  wand  of  God- sent  power 
Still  swallowed  up  that  fiery  shower. 

Then  Gadhi's  son,  when  these  had  failed, 
With  Brahma's  dart  his  foe  assailed. 
The  Gods,  with  Indra  at  their  head, 
And  Nagas,  quailed  disquieted, 
And  saints  and  minstrels,  when  they  saw 
The  king  that  awful  weapon  draw  ; 
Arid  the  three  worlds  were  filled  with  dread, 
And  trembled  as  the  missile  sped. 

The  saint,  with  Brahman  wand,  em- 
powered 

By  lore  divine  that  dart  devoured. 
Nor  could  the  triple  world  withdraw 
Rapt  gazes  from  that  sight  of  awe  : 
For  as  he  swallowed  down  the  dart 
Of  Brahma,  sparks  from  every  part, 
From  finest  pore  and  hair-cell,  broke 
Enveloped  in  a  veil  of  smoke. 
The  staff  he  waved  was  all  aglow 
Like  Yarna's  ceptre,  King  below, 
Or  like  the  lurid  fire  of  Fate 
Whose  rage  the  worlds  will  desolate. 

The  hermits,  whom  that  sight  had  awed, 
Extolled  the  saint  with  hymn  and  laud  : 
'  Thy  power,  O  Sage,  is  ne'er  in  vain  : 
Now  with  thy  might  thy  might  restrain. 
Be  gracious,  Master,  and  allow 

1  'The  names  of  many  of  these  weapons 
which  are  mythical  and  partly  allegorical 
have  occurred  in  Canto  XXIX.  The  gene- 
ral signification  of  the  story  is  clear  enough. 
It  is  a  contest  for  supremacy  between  the 
regal  or  military  order  and  Brabmanical 
or  priestly  authority,  like  one  of  those 
struggles  which  our  own  Europe  saw  in 
the  middle  ages  when  without  employing 
warlike  weapons  the  priesthood  frequently 
gained  the  victory.'  SCHLEGEL. 

For  a  full  account  of  the  early  contests 
between  the  Brahmans  and  the  Kshattri- 
yas,  see  Muir's  Original  Sanskrit  Texts 
(second  edition)  Vol.  I.  Ch,  IV. 


The  worlds  to  rest  from  trouble  now  ; 
For  Visvamitra,  strong  and  dread, 
By  thee  has  been  discomfited.' 
Then,  thus  addressed,  the  saint,   well 

pleased, 

The  fury  of  his  wrath  appeased. 
The  king,  o'erpowered  and  ashamed. 
With  many  a  deep-drawn  sigh  exclaimed  : 
*  Ah  !  Warriors'  strength  is  poor  and  slight : 
A  Brahman's  power  is  truly  might. 
This  Brahman  staff  the  hermit  held 
The  fury  of  my  darts  has  quelled. 
This  truth  within  my  heart  impressed, 
With  senses  ruled  and  tranquil  breast 
My  task  austere  will  I  begin, 
And  Brahmanhood  will  strive  to  win.* 


CANTO  LVII. 


TRlgANKU. 

Then  with  his  heart  consumed  with  woe, 
Still  brooding  on  his  overthrow 
By  the  great  saint  he  had  defied. 
At  every  breath  the  monarch  sighed 
Forth  from  his  home  his  queen  he  led, 
And  to  a  land  far  southward  fled. 
There,  fruit  and  roots  his  only  food, 
He  practised  penance,  sense -subdued, 
And  in  that  solitary  spot 
Four  virtuous  sons  the  king  begot : 
Havishyand.  from  the  offering  named, 
And  Madhushyand,  for  sweetness  famed, 
Maharath,  chariot- borne  in  fight, 
And  Dridhanetra  strong  of  sight. 

A  thousand  years  had  passed  away, 
When  BrahmS,,  Sire  whom  all  obey, 
Addressed  in  pleasant  words  like  these 
Him  rich  in  long  austerities  : 
'Thou  by  the  penance,  Kusik's  son, 
A  place  'mid  royal  saints  hast  won. 
Pleased  with  thy  constant  penance,  we 
This  lofty  rank  assign  to  thee.' 

Thus  spoke  the  glorious  Lord  most  High 
Father  of  earth  and  air  and  sky, 
And  with  the  Gods  around  him  spread 
Home  to  his  changeless  sphere  he  sped. 
But  Visvamitra  scorned  the  grace, 
And  bent  in  shame  his  angry  face. 
Burning  with  rage,  o'erwhelmed  with  grief, 
Thus  in  his  heart  exclaimed  the  chief  : 
'No  fruit,  I  ween,  have  I  secured 
By  strictest  penance  long  endured, 
If  Gods  and  all  the  saints  decree 
To  make  but  royal  saint  of  me.' 
Thus  pondering,  he  with  sense  subdued, 
With  sternest  zeal  his  vows  renewed. 


Ganto  LVIIL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Then  reigned  a"monarch,  true  of  soul, 
Who  kept  each  sense  in  firm  control ; 
Of  old  Ikshvaku's  line  became, 
That  glories  in  Trisanku's1   name. 
Within  his  breast,  O  Kaghu's  child, 
Arose  a  longing,  strong  and  wild, 
Great  offerings  to  the  Gods  to  pay, 
And  win,  alive,  to  heaven  his  way. 
His  priest  Vasishtha's  aid  he  sought, 
And  told  him  of  his  secret  thought. 
But  wise  Vasishtha  showed  the  hope 
Was  far  beyond  the  monarch's  scope. 
Trisanku  then,  his  suit  denied, 
Far  to  the  southern  region  hied, 
To  beg  Vasishtha's  sons  to  aid 
The  mighty  plan  his  soul  had  made. 
There  King  Trisanku,  far  renowned, 
Vasishtha's  hundred  children  found, 
Each  on  his  fervent  vows  intent, 
For  mind  and  fame  preeminent. 
To  these  the  famous  king  applied, 
Wise  children  of  his  holy  guide. 
Saluting  each  in  order  due, 
His  eyes,  for  shame,  he  downward  threw, 
And  reverent  hands  together  pressed, 
The  glorious  company  addressed  : 
1 1  as  a  humble  suppliant  seek 
Succour  of  you  who  aid  the  weak. 
A  mighty  offering  I  would  pay, 
But  sage  Vasishtha  answered,  Nay. 
Be  yours  permission  to  accord, 
And  to  my  rites  your  help  afford. 
Sons  of  my  guide,  to  each  of  you 
With  lowly  reverence  here  I  sue  ; 
To  each,  intent  on  penance-vow, 
O  Brahmans,  low  my  head  I  bow, 
And  pray  you  each  with  ready  heart 
In  my  great  rite  to  bear  a  part, 
That  in  the  body  I  may  rise 
And  dwell  with  Gods  within  the  skies. 
Sons  of  my  guide,  none  else  I  see 
Can  give  what  he  refuses  me. 
Ikflhvaku's  children  still  depend 
Upon  their  guide  most  reverend  ; 
And  you,  as  nearest  in  degree  . 
To  him,  my  deities  shall  be  1' 


1  *  Trisanku,  king  of  Ayodhya,  was 
seventh  in  descent  from  Ikshvaku,  and 
Dasaratha  holds  the  thirty-fourth  place 
in  the  same  genealogy.  See  Canto  LXX. 
We  are  thrown  back,  therefore,  to  very 
ancient  times,  and  it  occasions  some  sur- 
prise to  find  Vasishtha  and  Visvamitra, 
actors  in  these  occurrences,  still  alive  in 
Rama's  time.' 


CANTO  LVIIL 


TKI^ANKU  CURSED. 

Trisanku's  speech  the  hundred  heard, 
And  thus  replied,  to  anger  stirred  : 
1  Why  foolish  King,  by  him  denied, 
Whose  truthful  lips  have  never  lied, 
Dost  thou  transgress  his  prudent  rule, 
And  seek,  for  aid,  another  school? 1 
Ikshvaku's  sons  have  aye  relied 
Most  surely  on  their  holy  guide: 
Then  how  dost  thou,  fond  Monarch,  dare 
Transgress  the  rule  his  lips  declare? 
'  Thy  wish  is  vain,'  the  saint  replied, 
And  bade  thee  cast  the  plan  aside. 
Then  how  can  we,  his  sons,  pretend 
In  such  a  rite  our  aid  to  lend  ? 
O  Monarch,  of  the  childish  heart, 
Home  to  thy  royal  town  depart. 
That  mighty  saint,  thy  priest  and  guide, 
At  noblest  rites  may  well  preside  : 
The  worlds  for  sacrifice  combined 
A  worthier  priest  could  never  find.' 

Such  speech  of  theirs  the  monarch  heard. 
Though  rage  distorted  every  word, 
And  to  the  hermits  made  reply  : 
'  You,  like  your  sire,  my  suit  deny, 
For  other  aid  I  turn  from  you  : 
So,  rich  in  penance,  Saints,  adieu ! ' 

Vasishtha's  children  heard,  and  guessed 
His  evil  purpose  scarce  expressed, 
And  cried,  while  rage  their  bosoms  burned, 
'  Be  to  a  vile  Chandala2  turned ! ' 


1  "  It  does  not  appear  how  Trisanku,  in 
asking  the  aid  of  Vasishtha's  sons  after 
applying  in  vain  to  their  father,  could  be 
charged  with  resorting  to  another  sdkhd 
(School)   in  the  ordinary    sense   of  that 
word  ;    as  it  is  not  conceivable  that  the 
sons  should  have  been  of  another  6akh& 
from  the  father,  whose  cause  they  espouse 
with  so  much  warmth.   The  commentator 
in  the  Bombay  edition  explains  the  word 
Sdlthdntaram  as  Yajanadina  raksbantar- 
am,  'one  who  by  sacrificing  for  thee,  etc., 
will   be    another  protector.'       Gorresio'a 
Gauda  text,  which  may  often  be  used  as  a 
commentary   on  the  older  one,  has  the 
following    paraphrase    of    the    words    in 
question,  ch.  60, 3.  Mulam  utsrijya  kasinat 
tvam  sakhasv  ichhasi  lambitum.    *  Why, 
forsaking  the  root,  dost  thou  desire  to 
hang  upon  the  branches?'"  MuiR,  Sans- 
krit Texts  Vol.  I.,  p.  401. 

2  '  A  Chandala  was  a  man  born   of   the 
illegal  and  impure  union  of  a  Sftdra  with 
a  woman  of  one  of  the  three  higher  castes. 


70 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  I. 


This  said,  with  lofty  thoughts  inspired, 
Each  to  his  own  retreat  retired. 

That  night  Trisanku  underwent 
Sad  change  in  shape  and  lineament. 
Next  morn,  an  outcast  swart  of  hue, 
His  dusky  cloth  he  round  him  drew. 
His  hair  had  fallen  from  his  head, 
And  roughness  o'er  his  skin  was  spread. 
Such  wreaths  adorned  him  as  are  found 
To  flourish  on  the  funeral  ground. 
Each  armlet  was  an  iron  ring  : 
Such  was  the  figure  of  the  king, 
That  every  counsellor  and  peer, 
And  following  townsman,  fled  in  fear. 

Alone,  unyielding  to  dismay, 
Though  burnt  by  anguish  night  and  day, 
Great  Visvamitra's  side  he  sought, 
Whose  treasures  were  by  penance  bought. 

The  hermit  \yith  his  tender  eyes 
Looked  on  Trisanku's  altered  guise, 
And  grieving  at  his  ruined  state 
Addressed  him  thus,  compassionate  : 
*  Great  King,'  the  pious  hermit  said, 
'  What  cause  thy  steps  has  hither  led, 
Ayodhya's  mighty  Sovereign,  whom 
A  curse  has  plagued  with  outcast's  doom?' 
In  vile  Chandala's  shape,  the  king 
Heard  Visvamitra's  questioning, 
And.  suppliant  palm  to  palm  applied, 
With  answering  eloquence  he  cried  : 
'  My  priest  and  all  his  sons  refused 
To  aid  the  plan  on  which  I  mused. 
Failing  to  win  the  boon  I  sought, 
To  this  condition  I  was  brought. 
I,  in  the  body,  Saint,  would  fain 
A  mansion  in  the  skies  obtain. 
I  planned  a  hundred  rites  for  this, 
But  still  was  doomed  the  fruit  to  miss. 
Pure  are  my  lips  from  falsehood's  stain, 
And  pure  they  ever  shall  remain, — 
Yea,  by  a  Warrior's  faith  I  swear, — 
Though  I  be  tried  with  grief  and  care. 
Unnumbered  rites  to  Heaven  I  paid, 
With  righteous  care  the  sceptre  swayed  ; 
And  holy  priest  and  high-souled  guide 
My  modest  conduct  gratified. 
Put,  O  thou  best  of  hermits,  they 
Oppose  my  wish  these  rites  to  pay  ; 
They  one  and  all  refuse  consent, 
Nor  aid  me  in  my  high  intent. 
Fate  is,  I  ween,  the  power  supreme, 
Man's  effort  but  an  idle  dream. 
Fate  whirls  our  plans,  our  all  away  ; 


The  Chandala  was  regarded  as  the  vilest 
and  most  abject  of  the  men  sprung  from 
wedlock  forbidden  by  the  law  (Manava- 
dharmasastra,  Lib.  X.  12.) ;  a  kind  of  so- 
cial malediction  weighed  upon  his  head 
and  rejected  him  from  human  society.' 

GOKRESIO. 


Fate  is  pur  only  hope  and  stay  ; 

Now  deign,  O  blessed  Saint,  to  aid 

Me,  even  me  by  Fate  betrayed, 

Who  come,  a  suppliant,  sore  distressed, 

One  grace,  O  Hermit,  to  request. 

No  other  hope  or  way  I  see  ; 

No  other  refuge   waits  for  me. 

Oh,  aid  me  in  my  fallen  state, 

And  human  will  shall  conquer  Fate.' 

CANTO  LIX. 


THE  SONS  OF  VA^ISHTHA, 

Then  Kusik's  son,  by  pity  warmed, 
Spoke  sweetly  to  the  king  transformed  : 
'  Hail!  glory  of  Ikshvaku's  line  : 
I  know  how  bright  thy  virtues  shine. 
Dismiss  thy  fear,  O  noblest  Chief, 
For  1  myself  will  bring  relief. 
The  holiest  saints  will  I  invite 
To  celebrate  thy  purposed  rite  : 
So  shall  thy  vow,  O  King,  succeed, 
And  from  thy  cares  shalt  thou  be  freed. 
Thou  in  the  form  which  now  thou  bast, 
Transfigured  by  the  curse  they  cast, — 
Yea,  in  the  body,  King,  shalt  flee, 
Transported,  where  thou  fain  wouldst  be. 
O  Lord  of  men.  I  ween  that  thou 
Hast  heaven  within  thy  hand  e'en  now, 
For  very  wisely  hast  thou  done, 
And  refuge  sought  with  Kusik's  son.' 

Thus  having  said,  the  sage  addressed 
His  sons,  of  men  the  holiest, 
And  bade  the  prudent  saints  whate'er 
Was  needed  for  the  rite  prepare. 
The  pupils  he  was  wont  to  teach 
He  summoned  next,  and  spoke  this  speech: 
'Go  bid  Vasishtha's  sons  appear, 
And  all  the  saints  be  gathered  here. 
And  what  they  one  and  all  reply 
When  summoned  by  this  mandate  high, 
To  me  with  faithful  care  report, 
Omit  no  word  and  none  distort.' 

The  pupils  heard,  and  prompt  obeyed, 
To  every  side  their  way  they  made. 
Then  swift  from  every  quarter  sped 
The  sages  in  the  Vedas  read. 
Back  to  that  saint  the  envoys  came, 
Whose  glory  shone  like  burning  flame, 
And  told  him  in  their  faithful  speech 
The  answer  that  they  bore  from  each  : 
'  Submissive  to  thy  word,  O  Seer, 
The  holy  men  are  gathering  here. 
By  all  was  meet  obedience  shown  : 
Mahodaya1  refused  alone. 


1  This  appellation,  occuring  nowhere 
else  in  the  poem  except  as  the  name  of 
a  city,  appears  twice  in  this  Canto  as  a 
name  of  Vasishtha. 


Canto  LX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


71 


And  now,  O  Chief  of  hermits,  hear 
What  answer,  chilling  us  with  fear, 
Vasishtha's  hundred  sons  returned, 
Thick-speaking  as  with  rage  they  burned  : 

*  How  will  the  Gods  and  saints  partake 
The  offerings  that  the  prince  would  make, 
And  he  a  vile  and  outcast  thing, 

His  ministrant  one  born  a  king? 
Can  we,  great  Brahmans,  eat  his  food, 
Arid  think  to  win  beatitude, 
By  Visvamitra  purified  ? ' 
Thus  sire  and  sons  in  scorn  replied, 
And  as  these  bitter  words  they  said, 
Wild  fury  made  their  eyeballs  red.' 
Their  answer  when  the  arch-hermit  heard, 
His  tranquil  eyes  with  rage  were  blurred; 
Great  fury  in  his  bosom  woke, 
And  thus  unto  the  youths  he  spoke  : 

*  Me.  blameless  me  they  dare  to  blame, 
And  disallow  the  righteous  claim 

My  tierce  austerities  have  earned: 
To  ashes  be  the  sinners  turned. 
Caught  in  the  noose  of  Fate  shall  they 
To  Varna's  kingdom  sink  to-day. 
Seven  hundred  times  shall  they  be  born 
To  wear  the  clothes  the  dead  have  worn. 
Dregs  of  the  dregs,  too  vile  to  iiate. 
The  flesh  of  dogs  their  maws  shall  sate. 
In  hideous  form,  in  loathsome  weed, 
A  sad  existence  each  shall  lead, 
Mahodaya  too,  the  fool  who  fain 
My  stainless  life  would  try  to  stain, 
Stained  in  the  world  with  long  disgrace 
Shall  sink  into  a  fowler's  place. 
Itejoicing  guiltless  blood  to  spill, 
No  pity  through  his  breast  shall  thrill. 
Cursed,  by  my  wrath  for  many  a  day, 
His  wretched  life  for  sin  shall  pay. 

Thus,  girt  with  hermit,  saint,  and  priest. 
Great  Visvamitra  spoke — and  ceased. 


CANTO  LX. 


TRI^ANKU'S    ASCENSION. 

So  with  ascetic  might,  in  ire, 

He  smote  the  children  and  the  sire. 

Then  Visvamitra,  far-renowned, 

Addressed  the  saints  who  gathered  round  ; 

*  See  by  my  side  Trisauku  stand, 

Ikshvaku's  son,  of  liberal  hand. 

Most  virtuous  and  gentle,  he 

Seeks  refuge  in  his  woe  with  me. 

Now,  holy  men,  with  me  unite, 

And  order  so  his  purposed  rite 

That  in  the  body  he  may  rise 

And  win  a  mansion  in  the  skies.' 

They  heard  his  specs h  with  ready  ear 
And,  every  bosom  tilled  with  f  car 


Of  Visvamitra,  wise  and  great. 

Spoke  each  to  each  in  brief  debate: 

'  The  breast  of  Kusik's  son,  we  know, 

With  furious  wrath  is  quick  to  glow. 

Whate'er  the  words  he  wills  to  say, 

We  must,  be  very  sure,  obey. 

Fierce  is  our  lord  as  fire,  and  straight 

May  curse  us  all  infuriate. 

So  let  us  in  these  rites  engage, 

As  ordered  by  the  holy  sage, 

And  with  our  best  endeavour  strive 

That  King  Ikshvaku's  son,  alive, 

In  body  to  the  skies  may  go 

By  his  great  might  who  wills  it  so.' 

Then  was  the  rite  begun  with  care  : 
All  requisites  and  means  were  there  : 
And  glorious  Visvamitra  lent 
His  willing  aid  as  president. 
And  all  the  sacred  rit  *s  were  d  /ne 
By  rule  and  use.  omit:ing  none, 
By  chaplain-priest,  the  hymns  who  knew 
In  decent  form  and  order  due. 
Some  time  in  sacrifice  had  past, 
And  Visvamitra  made,  at  last, 
The  solemn  offering  with  the  prayer 
That  all  the  Gods  might  come  and  share. 
But  the  Immortals,  one  and  all, 
Refused  to  hear  the  hermit's  call. 

Then  red  with  rage  his  eyeballs  blazed: 
The  sacred  ladle  high  Vie  raised, 
And  cried  to  King  Ikshvaku's  son  : 
'  Behold  my  power,  by  penance  won : 
Now  by  the  might  my  merits  lend, 
Ikshvaku's  child,  to  heaven  ascend. 
In  living  frame  the  skies  attain, 
Which  mortals  thus  can  scarcely  gain, 
My  vows  austere,  so  long  endured, 
Have,  as  1  ween,  some  fruit  assured. 
Upon  its  virtue,  King,  rely, 
And  in  thy  body  reach  the  sky.' 

His  speech  had  scarcely  reached  its  close, 
When,  as  he  stood,  the  sovereign  rose, 
And  mounted  swiftly  to  the  skies 
Before  the  wondering  hermits'  eyes. 

But  Indra,  when  he  saw  the  king 
His  blissful  regions  entering, 
With  all  the  army  of  the  Blest 
Thus  cried  unto  the  unbidden  guest  : 
'  With  thy  best  speed,  Tris-inku.  flee  : 
Here  is  no  home  prepared  for  thee. 
By  thy  great  master's  curse  brought  low, 
Go,  falling  headlong,  earthward  go.' 

Tims  by  the  Lord  of  Gods  addressed, 
Trisanku  fell  from  fancied  rest, 
And  screaming  in  his  swift  descent, 
•  O,  save  me,  Hermit  ? '  down  he  went. 
And  Visvamitra  heard  his  cry, 
And  marked  him  falling  from  the  sky, 
And  giving  all  his  passion  sway. 
Cried  out  in  fury,  '  Stay,  O  stay  !' 


72 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  I. 


By  penance-power  and  holy  lore, 
Like  Him  who  framed  the  worlds  of  yore, 
SSeven  other  saints  he  fixed  on  high 
To  star  with  light  the  southern  sky. 
Girt  with  his  sage.*  forth  he  went, 
And  southward  in  the  firmament 
New  wreathed  stars  prepared  to  set 
In  many  a  sparkling  coronet. 
He  threatened,  blind  with  rage  and  hate, 
Another  Iridra  to  create, 
Or,  from  his  throne  the  ruler  hurled, 
All  Indraless  to  leave  the  world. 
Yea,  borne  away  by  passion's  storm, 
The  sage  began  new  Gods  to  form. 
But  then  each  Titan,  God,  and  saint. 
Confused  with  terror,  sick  and  faint, 
To  high  souled  Visvamitra  hied, 
And  with  soft  words  to  soothe  him  tried  : 

*  Lord  of  high  destiny,  this  king, 
To  whom  his  master's  curses  cling, 
No  heavenly  home  deserves  to  gain, 
Unpurified  from  curse  and  stain.' 

The  son  of  Kusik,  underterred, 
The  pleading  of  the  Immortals  heard, 
And  thus  in  haughty  words  expressed 
The  changeless  purpose  of  his  breast: 

*  Content  ye,  Gods  :  I  soothly  sware 
Trisanku  to  the  skies  to  bear 
Clothed  in  his  body,  nor  can  I 
My  promise  cancel  or  deny. 
Embodied  let  the  king  ascend 

To  life  in  heaven  that  ne'er  shall  end. 
And  let  these  new-made  stars  of  mine 
Firm  and  secure  for  ever  shine. 
Let  these,  my  work,  remain  secure 
Long  as  the  earth  and  heaven  endure. 
This,  all  ye  Gods,  I  crave  :  do  you 
Allow  the  boon  for  which  I  sue.' 
Then  all  the  Gods  their  answer  made  : 

*  So  be  it,  Saint,  as  thou  hast  prayed. 
Beyond  the  sun's  diurnal  way 

Thy  countless  stars  in  heaven  shall  stay  : 
And  'mid  them  hung,  as  one  divine, 
Head  downward  shall  Trisanku  shine  : 
And  all  thy  stars  shall  ever  fling 
Their  rays  attendant  on  the  king.'1 


1  *  The  seven  ancient  risk-is  or  saints,  as 
has  been  said  before,  were  the  seven  stars 
of  Ursa  Major.  The  seven  other  new  saints 
•which  are  here  said  to  have  been  created 
by  Visvamitra.  should  be  seven  new  south- 
ern stars,  a  sort  of  new  Ursa.  Von  Schlegel 
thinks  that  this  mythical  fiction  of  new 
stars  created  by  Visvamitra  may  signify 
that  these  southern  stars,  unknown  to  the 
Indians  as  long  as  they  remained  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Ganges,  became 
known  to  them  at  a  later  date  when  they 
polonized  the  southern  regions  of  Indra.' 
GORRESIO. 


The  mighty  saint,  with  glory  crowned, 
With  all  the  sages  compassed  round, 
Praised  by  the  Gods,  gave  full  assent, 
And  Gods  and  sages  homeward  went. 

CANTO   LXL 

SUNAHgEPHA. 

Then  Visvamitra,  when  the  Blest 

Had  sought  their  homes  of  heavenly  rest, 

Thus,  mighty  Prince,  his  counsel  laid 

Before  the  dwellers  of  the  shade  : 

*  The  southern  land  where  now  we  are 

Offers  this  check  our  rites  to  bar:1 

To  other  regions  let  us  speed, 

And  ply  our  tasks  from  trouble  freed. 

Now  turn  we  to  the  distant  west. 

To  Pushkar's2  wood  where  hermits  rest, 

And  there  to  rites  austere  apply, 

For  not  a  grove  with  that  can  vie.' 

The  saint,  in  glory's  light  arrayed, 
In  Pushkar's  wood  his  dwelling  made, 
And  living  there  on  roots  and  fruit 
Did  penance  stern  and  resolute. 

The  king  who  filled  Ayodhya's  throne, 
By  Ambarisha  s  name  far  known, 
At  that  same  time,  it  chanced,  began 
A  sacrificial  rite  to  plan. 
But  Indra  took  by  force  away 
The  charger  that  the  king  would  slay. 
The  victim  lost,  the  Brahman  sped 
To  Ambarisha's  side,  and  said  : 
'Gone  is  the  steed,  O  King,  and  this 
Is  due  to  thee,  in  care  remiss. 


1  '  This  cannot  refer  to  the  events  just 
related  :  for  Visvamitra  was  successful  in 
the  sacrifice  performed  for  Trisanku.    And 
yet  no   other  impediment  is  mentioned. 
Still  his  restless  mind  would  not  allow 
him  to  remain  longer^  in  the  same  spot. 
So  the  character  of  Visvamitra  is  ingeni- 
ously and  skilfully  shadowed  forth  ;  as  he 
had  been  formerly  a  most  warlike  king, 
loving    battle    and    glory,    bold,    active, 
sometimes  unjust,  and  more   frequently 
magnanimous,  such  also  he  always  shows 
himself  in  his  character  of  anchorite  and 
ascetic.'    SCHLEGEL. 

2  Near  the  modern  city  of  Ajmere.  The 
place  is  sacred  still,  and  the  name  is  pre- 
served in  the  Hindi.  Lassen,  however,  says 
that  this  Pushkala  or  Pushkara,  called 
by  the  Grecian  writers  HtvKtXaiTic;,  the 
earliest  place  of  pilgrimage  mentioned  by 
name,  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  the 
modern  Pushkara  in  Ajmere, 


Canto  LXII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Such  heedless  faults  will  kings  destroy 
Who  fail  to  guard  what  they  enjoy. 
The  flaw  is  desperate  :  we  need 
The  charger,  or  a  man  to  bleed. 
Quick !  bring  a  man  if  not  the  horse, 
That  so  the  rite  may  have  its  course.' 

The  glory  of  Ikshvaku's  line 
Made  offer  of  a  thousand  kine, 
And  sought  to  buy  at  lordly  price 
A  victim  for  the  sacrifice. 
To  many  a  distant  land  he  drove, 
To  many  a  people,  town,  and  grove, 
And  holy  shades  where  hermits  rest, 
Pursuing  still  his  eager  quest. 
At  length  on  Bhrigu's  sacred  height 
The  saint  Kichika  met  his  sight 
Sitting  beneath  the  holy  boughs. 
His  children  near  him,  and  his  spouse. 

The  mighty  lord  drew  near,  assayed 
To  win  his  grace,  and  reverence  paid  ; 
And  then  the  sainted  king  addressed 
The  Brahman  saint  with  this  request  : 
«  Bought  with  a  hundred  thousand  kine, 
Give  me,  O  6age,  a  son  of  thine 
To  be  a  victim  in  the  rite, 
And  thanks  the  favour  shall  requite. 
For  I  have  roamed  all  countries  round, 
Nor  sacrificial  victim  found. 
Then,  gentle  Hermit,  deign  to  spare 
One  child  amid  the  number  there.' 

Then  to  the  monarch's  speech  replied 
The  hermit,  penance-glorified  : 
*  For  countless  kine,  tor  hills  of  gold, 
Mine  eldest  son  shall  ne'er  be  sold.' 
But,  when  she  heard  the  saint's  reply, 
The  children's  mother,  standing  nigh, 
Words  such  as  these  in  answer  said 
To  Ambarisha,  monarch  dread  : 
'  My  lord,  the  saint,  has  spoken  well : 
His  eldest  child  he  will  not  sell. 
And  know,  great  Monarch,  that  above 
The  rest  my  youngest  born  I  love. 
'Tis  ever  thus  :  the  father's  joy 
Is  centred  in  his  eldest  boy. 
The  mother  loves  her  darling  best 
Whom  last  she  rocked  upon  her  breast : 
My  youngest  I  will  ne'er  forsake.' 

As  thus  the  sire  and  mother  spake, 
Young  &unahsepba,  of  the  three 
The  midmost,  cried  unurged  and  free  : 
'  My  sire  withholds  his  eldest  son, 
My  mother  keeps  her  youngest  one: 
Then  take  me  with  thee,  King:  I  ween 
The  son  is  sold  who  comes  between.' 
The  king  with  joy  his  home  resought, 
And  took  the  prize  his  kine  had  bought. 
He  bade  the  youth  his  car  ascend, 
And  hastened  back  the  rites  to  end.1 

1  *  Ambarisha  is  the  twenty-ninth  in 


CANTO  LXII. 
AMBARrSHA'S  SACRIFICE. 

As  thus  the  king  that  youth  conveyed, 
His  weary  steeds  at  length  he  stayed 
At  height  of  noon  their  rest  to  take 
Upon  the  bank  of  Pushkar's  lake. 
There  while  rhe  king  enjoyed  repose 
The  captive  ^unahsepha  rose, 
And  hasting  to  the  water's  side 
His  uncle  Visvamitra  spied, 
With  many  a  hermit  'neath  the  trees 
Engaged  in  stern  austerities. 

Distracted  with  the  toil  and  thirst, 
With  woeful  mien,  away  he  burst, 
Swift  to  the  hermit's  breast  he  flew, 
And  weeping  thus  began  to  sue : 
*No  sire  have  I.  no  mother  dear, 
No  kith  or  kin  my  heart  to  cheer : 
As  justice  bids,  O  Hermit,  deign 
To  save  me  from  the  threatened  pain. 
O  thou  to  whom  the  wretched  flee, 
And  find  a  saviour,  Saint,  in  thee, 
Now  let  the  king  obtain  his  will, 
And  me  my  length  of  days  fulfil, 
That  rites  austere  I  too  may  share, 
May  rise  to  heaven  and  rest  me  there. 
With  tender  soul  and  gentle  brow 
Be  guardian  of  the  orphan  thou, 
And  as  a  father  pities,  so 
Preserve  me  from  my  fear  and  woe.' 

When  Visvamitra,  glorious  saint, 
Had  heard  the  boy's  heart-rending  plaint, 
He  soothed  his  grief,  his  tears  he  dried, 


descent  from  Ikshvaku,  and  is  therefore 
separated  by  an  immense  space  of  time 
from  Trisanku  in  whose  story  Visvamitra 
bad  played  so  important  a  part.  Yet 
Richika,  who  is  represented  as  having 
young  sons  while  Ambarisha  was  yet  reign- 
ing being  himself  the  son  of  Bhrigu  and 
to  be  numbered  with  the  most  ancient 
sages,  is  said  to  have  married  the  younger 
sister  of  Visvamitra.  But  I  need  not  again 
remark  that  there  is  a  perpetual  anachro- 
nism in  Indian  mythology.'  SCHLEGEL. 

'In  the  mythical  story  related  in  this 
and  the  following  Canto  we  may  discover, 
I  think,  some  indication  of  the  epoch  at 
which  the  immolation  of  lower  animals 

was  substituted  for  human  sacrifice... 

So  when  Iphigenia  was  about  to  be  sacri- 
ficed at  Aulis,  one  legend  tells  us  that  a 
hind  was  substituted  for  the  virgin.' 

GORRESIO, 

So  the  ram  caught  in  the  thicket  took 
the  place  of  Isaac,  or,  as  the  Musalmani 
say,  of  Ishmael. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  7. 


Then  called  his  sons  to  him,  and  cried : 
'The  time  is  come  for  you  to  show 
The  duty  and  the  aid  hestow 
For  which,  regarding  future  life, 
A  man  gives  children  to  his  wife. 
This  hermit's  son,  whom  here  you  see 
A  suppliant,  refuge  seeks  with  me. 
O  sons,  the  friendless  youth  befriend, 
And,  pleasing  me,  his  life  defend. 
For  holy  works  you  all  have  wrought, 
True  to  the  virtuous  life  I  taught. 
Go,  and  as  victims  doomed  to  bleed, 
Die,  and  Lord  Agni's  hunger  feed. 
So  shall  the  rite  cjmplete.d  end, 
This  orphan  gain  a  saving  friend, 
Due  offerings  to  the  Gods  be  paid, 
And  your  own  father's  voice  obeyed.' 

Then  Madhushyand  and  all  the  rest 
Answered  their  sire  with  scorn  and  jest  : 
'  What !  aid  to  others'  sons  afford, 
And  leave  thine  own  to  die.  my  lord ! 
To  us  it  seems  a  horrid  deed, 
As  'twere  on  one's  own  flesh  to  feed.' 

The  herniit  heard  his  sons'  reply, 
And  burning  rage  inflamed  his  eye. 
Then  forth  his  words  of  fury  burst: 
'Audacious  speech,  by  virtue  curbed! 
It  lifts  on  end  each  shuddering  hair— 
My  charge  to  scorn  !  my  wrath  to  dare ! 
You,  like  V&sishtha's  evil  brood, 
Shall  make  the  flesh  of  dogs  your  food 
A  thousand  years  in  many  a  birth, 
And  punished  thus  shall  dwell  on  earth.' 

Thus  on  his  sons  his  curse  he  laid, 
Then  calmed  again  that  youth  dismayed, 
And  blessed  him  with  his  saving  aid ; 
'  When  in  the  sacred  fetters  bound, 
And  with  a  purple  garland  crowned, 
At  Vishnu's  post  thou  standest  tied, 
With  lauds  be  Agni  glorified. 
And  these  two  hymns  of  holy  praise 
Forget  not,  Hermit's  son,  to  raise 
In  the  king's  rite,  and  thou  shalt  be 
Lord  of  thy  wish,  preserved,  and  free.' 

He  learnt  the  hymns  with  mind  intent, 
And  from  the  hermit's  presence  went. 
To  Ambarisha  thus  he  spake  : 
*  Let  us  our  onward  journey  take. 
Haste  to  thy  home,  O  King,  nor  stay 
The  lustral  rites  with  slow  delay.' 

The  boy's  address  the  monarch  cheered, 
And  soon  the  sacred  ground  he  neared. 
The  convocation's  high  decree 
Declared  the  youth  from  blemish  free  ; 
Clothed  in  red  raiment  he  was  tied 
A  victim  at  the  pillar's  side. 
Ti)  ere  bound,the  Fire-God's  hymn  he  raised, 
And  Indra  and  Unendra  praised. 
Thousand-eyed  Vishnu,  pleased  to  hear 
The  mystic  laud,  iueliaed  his  ear, 


And  won  by  worship,  swift  to  save, 

Long  life  to  £unahsepha  gave. 

The  king  in  bounteous  measure  gained 

The  fruit  of  sacrifice  ordained, 

By  grace  of  Him  who  rules  the  skies, 

Lord  Indra  of  the  thousand  eyes. 

And  Visvamitra  evermore. 
Pursued  his  task  on  Pushkar's  shore 
Until  a  thousand  years  had  past 
In  fierce  austerity  "and  fast. 

CANTO  LXIII. 
MENAKA. 

A  thousand  years  had  thus  flown  by 
When  all  the  Gods  within  the  sky, 
Eager  that  he  the  fruit  might  gain 
Of  fervent  rite  and  holy  pain, 
Approached  the  great  ascetic,  now 
Bathed  after  toil  and  ended  vow. 
Then  Brahma,  speaking  for  the  rest 
With  sweetest  words  the  sage  addressed  : 
'  Hail,  Saint!  This  high  and  holy  name 
Thy  rites  have  won,  thy  merits  claim.' 

Thus  spoke  the  Lord  whom  Gods  revere, 
And  sought  again  his  heavenly  sphere. 
But  Visvamitra,  more  intent/ 
His  mind  to  sterner  penance  bent. 

So  many  a  season  rolled  away, 
When  iMeuaka,  fair  nymph,  one  day 
Came  down  from  Paradise  to  lave 
Her  perfect  limbs  in  Pushkar  s  wave, 
The  glorious  son  of  Kusik  saw 
That  peerless  shape  without  a  flaw 
Flash  thro  ugh  the  flood's  translucent  shroud 
Like  lightning  gleaming  through  a  cloud. 
He  saw  her  in  that  lone  retreat, 
Most  beautiful  from  head  to  feet, 
And  by  Kandarpa'a1  might  subdued 
He  thus  addressed  her  as  he  viewed  : 
'  Welcome,  sweet  nymph  !  O  deign,!  pray, 
In  these  calm  shades  awhile  to  stay. 
To  me  some  gracious  favour  show, 
For  love  has  set  my  breast  aglow.' 

He  spoke.  The  fairest  of  the  fair 
Made  for  awhile  her  dwelling  there, 
While  day  by  day  the  wild  delight 
Stayed  vow  austere  and  fervent  rite 
There  as  tlie  winsome  charmer  wove 
Her  spells  around  him  in  the  grove, 
And  bound  him  in  a  golden  chain. 
Five  sweet  years  fled,  and  five  again. 
Then  Visvamitra  woke  to  shame, 
And,  fraught  with  anguish,  memory  came 
For  quick  he  knew,  with  anger  fired, 
That  all  the  Immortals  had  conspired 

1  The  Indian  Cupid, 


Canto  LXIV. 


RAMAYAN. 


75 


To  lap  his  careless  soul  in  ease, 

And  mar  his  long  austerities. 

*  Ten  years  have  past,  each  day  and  night 

Unheeded  in  delusive  flight. 

So  long  my  fervent  rites  were  stayed, 

While  thus  I  lay  by  love  betrayed.' 

As  thus  long  sighs  the  hermit  heaved, 

And,  touched  with  deep  repentance,grieved, 

He  saw  the  fair  one  standing  nigh 

With  suppliant  hands  and  trembling  eye. 

With  gentle  words  he  bade  her  go, 

Then  sought  the  northern  hills  of  snow. 

With  firm  resolve  he  vowed  to  beat 

The  might  of  love  beneath  his  feet. 

Still  northward  to  the  distant  side 

Of  IJausiki,1  the  hermit  hide, 

And  gave  his  life  to  penance  there 

With  rites  austere  most  hard  to  bear. 

A  thousand  years  went  by,  and  still 

He  laboured  on  the  northern  hill 

With  pains  so  terrible  and  drear 

That  all  the  Gods  were  chilled  with  fear, 

And  Gods  and  saints,  for  swift  advice, 

Met  in  the  halls  of  Paradise. 

'  Let  Kusik's  son,'  they  counselled,  *  be 

A  Mighty  saint  by  just  decree.' 

Hi?  ear  to  hear  their  counsel  lent 

The  Sire  of  worlds,  omnipotent. 

To  him  enriched  by  rites  severe 

He  spoke  in  accents  sweet  to  hear  : 

'  Hail,  Mighty  Saint !  dear  son,  all  hail ! 

Thy  fervour  wins,  thy  toils  prevail. 

Won  by  thy  vows  and  zeal  intense 

I  give  this  high  preeminence.' 

He  to  the  General  Sire  replied, 


1  '  The  same  as  she  whose  praises  Visva- 
mitra  has  already  sung  in  Canto  XXXV, 
and  whom  the  poet  brings  yet  alive  upon 
the  scene  in  Canto  LXI.  Her  proper  name 
was  Saty avati  (Truthful) ;  the  patrony- 
mic, Kausiki  was  preserved  by  the  river  into 
which  she  is  said  to  have  been  changed, 
and  is  still  recognized  in  the  corrupted 
forms  Kusa  and  Kusi.  The  river  flows  from 
the  heights  of  the  Himalaya  towards  the 
Ganges,  bounding  on  the  east  the  country 
of  Videha  (Beharj.  The  name  is  no  doubt 
half  hidden  in  the  Cosoagus  of  Pliny  and 
the  Kossoanos  of  Arrian.  But  each  author 
has  fallen  into  the  same  error  in  his  enu- 
meration of  these  rivers  (Condochatem, 
Erannoboam,  Cosoagum,  Sonum).  The 
Erannoboas,  (Hiranyavaha)  and  the  Sone 
are  not  different  streams,  but  well-known 
names  of  the  same  river.  Moreover  the 
order  is  disturbed,  in  which  on  the  right 
and  left  they  fall  into  the  Ganges.  To  be 
consistent  with  geography  it  should  be 
written  :  Erannoboam  sive  Sonum,Condo- 
<shatein  (Gandaki),  Cosoagum.'  SCHLEGEL. 


Not  sad,  nor  wholly  satisfied  : 
*  When  thou,  O  Brahma,  shalt  declare 
The  title,  great  beyond  compare, 
Of  Brahman  saint  my  worthy  meed, 
Hard  earned  by  many  a  holy  deed, 
Then  may  I  deem  in  sooth  1  hold 
Each  sense  of  body  well  controlled.' 
Then  Brahma  cried,  «  Not  yet,  not  yet ; 
Toil  on  awhile  0  Anchoret! ' 

Thus  having  said  to  heaven  he  went, 
The  saint,  upon  his  task  intent, 
Began  his  labours  to  renew, 
Which  sterner  yet  and  fiercer  grew. 
His  arms  upraised,  without  a  rest, 
With  but  one  foot  the  earth  he  pressed ; 
The  air  his  food,  the  hermit  stood 
Still  as  a  pillar  hewn  from  wood. 
Around  him  in  the  summer  days 
Five  mighty  fires  combined  to  blaze. 
In  floods  of  rain  no  veil  was  spread 
Save  clouds,  to  canopy  his  head. 
In  the  dank  dews  both  night  and  day 
Couched  in  the  stream  the  hermit  lay. 
Thus,  till  a  thousand  years  had  fled, 
He  plied  his  task  of  penance  dread. 
Then  Vishnu  and  the  Gods  with  awe 
The  labours  of  the  hermit  saw, 
And  £akra,  in  his  troubled  breast, 
Lord  of  the  skies,  his  fear  confessed, 
And  brooded  on  a  plan  to  spoil 
The  merits  of  the  hermit's  toil. 
Encompassed  by  his  Gods  of  Storm 
He  summoned  Kambha,  fair  of  form, 
And  spoke  a  speech  for  woe  and  weal, 
The  same  to  mar,  the  God  to  heal. 

CANTO  LXIV. 


RAMBHA'. 

'A  great  emprise,  O  lovely  maid, 

To  save  the  Gods,  awaits  thine  aid  : 

To  bind  the  son  of  Kusik  sure, 

And  take  his  soul  with  love's  sweet  lure.1 

Thus  orderd  by  the  Thousand-eyed 

The  suppliant  nymph  in  fear  replied: 

*  O  Lord  of  Gods,  this  mighty  sage 
Is  very  fierce  and  swift  to  rage. 

I  doubt  not,  he  so  dread  and  stern 
On  me  his  scorching  wrath  will  turn. 
Of  this,  my  lord,  am  I  afraid  : 
Have  mercy  on  a  timid  maid.' 
Her  suppliant  hands  began  to  shake, 
When  thus  again  Lord  Indra  spake  ; 

*  0  Rambha,  drive  thy  fears  away, 
And  as  I  bid  do  thou  obey. 

In  Koil's  form,  who  takes  the  heart 
When  trees  in  spring  to  blossom  start, 
I,  with  Kandarpa  for  my  friend, 
Close  to  thy  side  miae  aid  will  lend. 


76 


THE  RAMAYAX. 


Book  I. 


Do  thou  thy  beauteous  splendour  arm 
With  every  grace  and  winsome  charm, 
And  from  his  awful  rites  seduce 
This  Kusik's  son,  the  stern  recluse.' 

Lord  Indra  ceased.  The  nymph  obeyed  : 
In  all  her  loveliest  charms  arrayed, 
"With  winning  ways  and  witching  smile 
She  sought  the  hermit  to  beguile. 
The  sweet  note  of  that  tuneful  bird 
The  saint  with  ravished  bosom  heard, 
And  on  his  heart  a  rapture  passed 
As  on  the  nymph  a  look  he  cast. 
But  when  he  heard  the  bird  prolong 
His  sweet  incomparable  song, 
And  saw  the  nymph  with  winning  smile, 
The  hermit's  heart  perceivd  the  wile. 
And  straight  he  knew  the  Thousand-eyed 
A  plot  against  his  peace  had  tried. 
Then  Kusik's  son  indignant  laid 
His  curse  upon  the  heavenly  maid  : 
'  Because  thou  wouldst  my  soul  engage 
Who  right  to  conquer  love  and  rage, 
Stand,  till  ten  thousand  years  have  flown, 
Ill-fated  maid,  transformed  to  stone. 
A  Brahman  then,  in  glory  strong, 
Mighty  through  penance  stern  arid  long, 
Shall  free  thee  from  thine  altered  shape  : 
Thou  from  my  curse  shalt  then  escape.' 
But  when  the  saint  had  cursed  her  so, 
His  breast  was  burnt  with  fires  of  woe, 
Grieved  that  1  ng  effort  to  restrain. 
His  mighty  wrath  was  all  in  vain. 
Cursed  by  the  angry  sage's  power, 
She  stood  in  stone  that  selfsame  hour. 
Kandarpa  heard  the  words  he  said, 
And  quickly  from  his  presence  fled. 
His  fall  beneath  his  passion's  sway 
Had  reft  the  hermit's  meed  away. 
Unconquered  yet  his  secret  foes, 
The  humbled  saint  refused  repose  : 
'  No  more  shall  rage  my  bosom  till, 
Sealed  be  my  lips,  my  tongue  be  still. 
My  very  breath  henceforth  I  hold 
"Until  a  thousand  years  are  told  : 
Victorious  o'er  each  erring  sense, 
I'll  dry  my  frame  with  abstinence, 
Until  by  penance  duly  done 
A  Brahman's  rank  be  bought  and  won. 
For  countless  years,  as  still  as  death, 
I  taste  no  food,  I  draw  no  breath, 
And  as  I  toil  my  frame  shall  stand 
Unharmed  by  time's  destroying  hand.' 

CANTO  LXV. 

'S  TRIUMPH. 

Then  from  Himalaya's  heights  of  snow, 
The  glorious  saint  prepared  to  go, 
And  dwelling  in  the  distant  east 


His  penance  and  his  toil  increased. 
A  thousand  years  his  lips  he  held 
Closed  by  a  vow  unparalleled, 
And  other  marvels  passing  thought, 
Unrivalled  in  the  world,  he  wrought. 
In  all  the  thousand  years  his  frame 
Dry  as  a  log  of  wood  became. 
By  many  a  cross  and  check  beset, 
Rage  had  not  stormed  his  bosom  yet. 
With  iron  will  that  naught  could  bend 
He  plied  his  labour  till  the  end. 
So  when  the  weary  years  were  o'er, 
Freed  from  his  vow  so  stern  and  sore, 
The  hermit,  all  his  penance  sped, 
Sate  down  to  eat  his  meal  of  bread. 
Then  Indra,  clad  in  Brahman  guise', 
Asked  him  for  food  with  hungry  eyes. 
The  mighty  saint,  with  steadfast  soul, 
To  the  false  Brahman  gave  the  whole, 
And  when  no  scrap  for  him  remained, 
Fa.- ting  and  faint,  from  speech  refrained. 
His  silent  vow  he  would  not  break: 
No  breath  he  heaved,  no  word  he  spake. 
Then  as  he  checked  his  breath,  behold  !* 
Around  his  brow  thick  smoke-clouds  rolled 
And  the  three  worlds,  as  if  o'erspread 
With  ravening  flames,  were  filled  with 

dread. 

Then  God  and  saint  and  bard,  convened. 
And  Naga  lord,  and  snake,  and  fiend, 
Thus  to  the  General  Father  cried, 
Distracted,  sad,  and  terrified  : 
4  Against  the  hermit,  sore  assailed, 
Lure,    scathe,    and    ssorn    have    naught 

availed, 

Proof  against  rage  and  treacherous  art 
He  keeps  his  vow  with  constant  heart. 
Now  if  his  toils  assist  him  naught 
To  gain  the  boon  his  soul  has  sought, 
He  through  the  worlds  will  ruin  send 
That  tixt  and  moving  things  shall  end. 
The  regions  now  are  dark  with  doom, 
No  friendly  ray  relieves  the  gloom. 
Each  ocean  foams  with  maddened  tide, 
The  shrinking  hills  in  fear  subside. 
Trembles  the  earth  with  feverous  throes, 
The  wind  in  fitful  tempest  blows. 
No  cure  we  see  with  troubled  eyes : 
And  atheist  brood  on  earth  may  rise. 
The  triple  world  is  wild  with  care, 
Or  spiritless  in  dull  despair. 
Before  that  saint  the  sun  is  dim, 
His  blessed  light  eclipsed  by  him. 
Now  ere  the  saint  resolve  to  bring 
Destruction  on  each  living  thing, 
Let  us  appease,  while  yet  we  may, 
Him  bright  as  fire,  like  fire  to  slay. 
Yea,  as  the  fiery  flood  of  Fate 
Lays  all  creation  desolate, 
He  o'er  the  conquered  Gods  may  reign  : 
O,  grant  him  what  he  longs  to  gain.' 


Canto  LXVI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


77 


Then  all  the  Blest,  by  Brahma  led, 
Approached  the  saint  and  sweetly  said  : 
'Hail,  Brahman  Saint!  for  such  thy  place  : 
Thy  vows  austere  have  won  our  grace. 
A  Brahman's  rank  thy  penance  stern 
And  ceaseless  labour  richly  earn. 
I  with  the  Gods  of  Storm  decree 
Long  life,  0  Brahman  Saint,  to  thee. 
May  peace  and  joy  thy  soul  possess  : 
Go  where  thou  wilt  in  happiness.' 

Thus  by  the  General  Sire  addressed, 
Joy  and  high  triumph  filled  his  breast. 
His  head  in  adoration  bowed, 
Thus  spoke  he  to  the  Immortal  crowd  : 
'If  I,  ye  Gods,  have  gained  at  last 
Both  length  of  days  and  Brahman  caste, 
Grant  that  the  high  mysterious  name, 
And  holy  Vedas,  own  my  claim, 
And  that  the  formula  to  bless 
The  sacrifice,  its  lord  confess. 
And  let  Vasishtha,  who  excels 
In  Warriors'  art  and  mystic  spells, 
In  love  of  God  without  a  peer. 
Confirm  the  boon  you  promise  hern.' 

With  Brahma's  son  Vasishtha,  best 
Of  those  who  pray  with  voice  repressed, 
The  Gods  by  earnest  prayer  prevailed, 
And  thus  his  new-made  friend  he  hailed  : 
'Thy  title  now  is  sure  and  good 
To  rights  of  saintly  Brahmanhood.' 
Thus  spake  the  sage.    The  Gods,  content, 
Back  to  their  heavenly  mansions  went. 
And  Visvamitra,  pious-souled, 
Among  the  Brahman  saints  enrolled, 
On  reverend  Vasishtha  pressed 
The  honours  due  to  holy  guest. 
Successful  in  his  high  pursuit, 
The  sage,  in  penance  resolute, 
Walked  in  his  pilgrim  wanderings  o'er 
The  whole  broad  land  from  shore  to  shore. 
'Twas  thus  the  saint,  O  Raghu's  son, 
His  rank  among  the  Brahrnans  won. 
Best  of  all  hermits,  Prince,  is  he  ; 
In  him  incarnate  Penance  see. 
Friend  of  the  right,  who  shrinks  from  ill, 
Heroic  powers  attend  him  still.' 

The  Brahman,  versed  in  ancient  lore, 
Thus  closed  his  tale,  and  said  no  more. 
To  ^atananda  Kusik's  son 
Cried  in  delight,  Well  done!  well  done  ! 
Then  Janak,  at  the  tale  amazed, 
Spoke  thus  with  suppliant  hands  upraised: 
'High  fate  is  mine,  O  Sage,  I  deem, 
And  thanks  I  owe  for  bliss  supreme, 
That  thou  and  Raghu's  children  too 
Have  come  my  sacrifice  to  view. 
To  look  on  thee  with  blessed  eyes 
Exalts  my  soul  and  purifies. 
Yea,  thus  to  see  thee  face  to  face 
Enriches  me  with  store  of  grace. 


Thy  holy  labours  wrought  of  old, 
And  mighty  penance,  fully  told, 
Rama  and  I  with  great  delight 
Have  heard,  O  glorious  Anchorite. 
Unrivalled  thine  ascetic  deeds  : 
Thy  might,  O  Saint,  all  might  exceeds. 
No  thought  may  scan,  no  limit  bound 
The  virtues  that  in  thee  are  found. 
The  story  of  thy  wondrous  fate 
My  thirsty  ears  can  never  sate. 
The  hour  of  evening  rites  is  near: 
The  sun  declines  in  swift  career. 
At  early  dawn,  O  Hermit,  deign 
To  let  me  see  thy  face  again. 
Best  of  ascetics,  part  in  bliss  : 
Do  ihou  thy  servant  now  dismiss.' 

The  saint  approved,  and  <rlad  and  kind 
Dismissed  the  king  with  joyful  mind. 
Around  the  sage  King  Janak  went 
With  priests  and  kinsmen  reverent. 
Then  Visvamitra,  honoured  so, 
By  those  high-minded,  rose  to  go, 
And  with  the  princes  took  his  way 
To  seek  the  lodging  where  they  lay, 


CANTO  LXVI. 


JANAK'S  SPEECH. 

With  cloudless  lustre  rose  the  sun  ; 
The  king,  his  morning  worship  done, 
Ordered  his  heralds  to  invite 
The  princes  and  the  anchorite. 
With  honour,  as  the  laws  decree, 
The  monarch  entertained  the  three. 
Then  to  the  youths  and  saintly  man 
Videha's  lord  this  speech  began  : 
'  O  blameless  Saint,  most  welcome  thou ! 
If  I  may  please  thee  tell  me  how. 
Speak,  mighty  lord,  whom  all  revere, 
'Tis  thine  to  order,  mine  to  hear,' 

Thus  he  on  mighty  thoughts  intent ; 
Tnen  thus  the  sage  most  eloquent : 
*  King  Daiaratha  8  sons,  this  pair 
Of  warriors  famous  everywhere, 
Are  come  that  best  of  bows  to  see 
That  lies  a  treasure  stored  by  thee. 
This,  mighty  Janak,  deign  to  show, 
That  they  may  look  upon  the  bow. 
And  then,  contented,  homeward  go,1 
Then  royal  Janak  spoke  in  turn  : 
'  O  best  of  Saints,  the  story  learn 
Why  this  famed  bow,  a  noble  prize, 
A  treasure  in  my  palace  lies. 
A  monarch,  Devarat  by  name, 
Who  sixth  from  ancient  .\  irni  came, 
Held  it  as  ruler  of  the  land, 
A  pledge  in  his  successive  hand. 
This  bow  the  mighty  Kudra  bore 


78 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


Boole  L 


At  Daksha's1  sacrifice  of  yore, 
When  carnage  of  the  Immortals  stained 
The  rite  that  Daksha  had  ordained.; 
Then  as  the  Gods'sore  wounded  fled, 
Victorious  Kudra,  mocking,  said  : 
'Because,  O  God?,  ye  gave  me  naught 
When  I  rny  rightful  portion  sought, 
Your  dearest  parts  I  will  not  spare, 
But  with  my  bow  your  frames  will  tear.' 

The  Sons  of  Heaven,  in  wild  alarm, 
Soft  flatteries  tried  his  rage  to  charm. 
Then  Bhava,  Lord  whom  Gods  adore, 
Grew  kind  and  friendly  as  before, 
And  every  torn  and  mangled  limb 
Was  safe  and  sound  n  stored  by  him. 
Thenceforth  this  bow,  the  gem  of  bows, 
That  freed  the  God  of  Gods  from  foes, 
Stored  by  our  great  forefathers  lay 
A  treasure  and  a  pride  for  aye. 
Once,  as  it  chanced,  I  ploughed  the  ground, 
When  sudden,  'neath  the  share  was  found 
An  infant  springing  from  the  earth, 
Named  Sita  from  her  secret  birth.2 
In  strength  and  grace  the  maiden  grew, 
IVly  cherished  daughter,  fair  to  view. 
I  vowed  her,  of  no  mortal  birth, 
Meet  prize  for  noblest  hero's  worth. 
In  strength  and  grace  the  maiden  grew, 
And  many  a  monarch  came  to  woo. 
To  all  the  princely  suitors  I 
Gave,  mighty  Saint,  the  same  reply  ; 
*  I  give  not  thus  my  daughter,  she 
Prize  of  heroic  worth  shall  be.3 
To  Mithila  the  suitors  pressed 
Their  power  and  might  to  manifest. 
To  all  who  came  with  hearts  aglow 
I  offered  Siva's  wondrous  bow. 


1  *  Daksha  was  one  of  the  ancient  Pro- 
genitors or  Prajapatis  created  by  Brahma. 
The  sacrifice  which  is  here  spoken  of  and 
in  which  $aukar  or  ^iva  (called  also  here 
Kudra  and  Bhava)  smote  the  Gods  because 
he  had  not  been  invited  to  share  the  sacred 
oblations  with  them,  seems  to  refer  to  the 
origin  of  the  worship  of  $iva,  to  its  in- 
crease and  to  the  struggle  it  maintained 
•with  other  older  forms  of __ worship.' 

GORRESIO. 

2  Sita  means  a  furrow, 

'  Great  Erectheus  swayed, 
That  owed   his  nurture  to  the  blue-eyed 

maid, 

But  from  the  teeming  furrow  took  his'birth, 

The  mighty  offspring  of  the  foodf  ul  earth.' 

Iliad,  Book  II. 

3  '  The  whole'story  of  Sita,  as  willjbe  seen 
in   the  course  of   the  poem  has  a  great 
analogy  with  the  ancient  myth  of  Pro- 
serpine,' GOKKESIO. 


Not  one  of  all  the  royal  band 
Cculd  raise  or  take  the  bow  in  hand. 
The  suitors'  puny  might  I  spurned, 
And  back  the  feeble  princes  turned.    . 
Kn raged  thereat,  the  warriors  met, 
With  force  combined  my  town  beset. 
Stung  to  the  heart  with  scorn  and  shame, 
With  war  and  threats  they  madly  came, 
Besieged  my  peaceful  walls,  and'long 
To  Mithila  did  grievous  wrong. 
There,  wasting  all,  a  year  they  lay, 
And  brought  my  treasures  to  decay, 
Filling  my  soul,  O  Hermit  chief, 
With  bitter  woe  and  hopeless  grief. 
At  last  by  long-wrought  penance  I 
Won  favour  with  the  Gods  on  high, 
Who  with  my  labours  well  content 
A  four- fold  host  to  aid  me  sent. 
Then  swift  the  baffled  heroes  fled 
To  all  the  winds  discomfited — 
Wrong-doers,  with  their  lords  and  host, 
And  all  their  valour's  idle  boast. 
This  heavenly  bow,  exceeding  bright, 
These  youths  shall  see,  O  Anchorite. 
Then  if  young  Rama's  hand  can  string 
The  bow  that  baffled  lord  and  king, 
To  him  I  give,  as  I  have  sworn, 
My  Sita,  not  of  woman  born.' 


CANTO  LXVII. 


THE  BREAKING  OF  THE  BOW. 

Then  spoke  again  the  great  recluse  : 

"This  mighty  bow,  O  King,  produce.' 

King  Janak,  at  the  saint's  request, 

This  order  to  his  train  addressed  : 

*  Let  the  great  bow  be  hither  borne, 

Which  flowery  wreaths  and  scents  adorn.' 

Scon  as  the  monarch's  words  were  said, 

His  servants  to  the  city  sped  : 

Five  thousand  youths  in  number,  all 

Of  manly  strength  and  stature  tall, 

The  ponderous  eight- wheeled  chest  that 

held 

The  heavenly  bow,  with  toil  propelled. 
At  length  they  brought  that  iron  chest, 
And  thus  the  godlike  king  addressed  : 
'  This  best  of  bows,  O  lord,  we  bring, 
Respected  by  each  chief  and  king, 
And  place  it  for  these  youths  to  see, 
If,  Sovereign,  such  thy  pleasure  be.' 

With  suppliant  palm  to  palm  applied 
King  Janak  to  the  strangers  cried  : 
'  This  gem  of  bows,  O  Brahman  Sage, 
Our  race  has  prized  from  age  to  age, 
Too  strong  for  those  who  yet  have  reigned, 
Though  great  in  might  each  nerve  they 

strained, 


Canto 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


79 


Titan  and  fiend  its  strength  defies, 
God,  spirit,  minstrel  of  the  skies. 
And  bard  above  and  snake  below 
Are  baffled  by  this  glorious  bo\V. 
Then  how  may  human  prowess  hcpe 
"With  such  a  bow  as  this  to  cope  / 
What  man  with  valour's  choicest  gift 
This  bow  can  draw,  or  string,  or  lift  ? 
Yet  let  the  princes,  holy  Seer, 
Behold  it  :  it  is  present  here.' 

Then  spoke  the  hermit  pious-souled: 
'  Rama,  dear  son,  the  bow  behold.' 
Then  Rama  at  his  word  unclosed 
The  chest  wherein  its  might  reposed, 
Thus  crying,  as  he  viewed  it :  '  Lo  ! 
I  lay  mine  hand  upon  the  bow  : 
May  happy  luck  my  hope'attend 
Its  heavenly  strength  to  lift  or  bend.' 

*  Good  luck  be  thine,'  the  hermit  cried  : 
'  Assay  the  task  ! '  the  king  replied. 
Then  Kaghu's  son,  as  if  in  sport, 
Before  the  thousands  of  the  court, 
The  weapon  by  the  middle'Taised 
That  all  the  crowd  in  wonder  gazed. 
With  steady  arm  the  string  he  drew 
Till  burst  the  mighty  bow  in  two. 

As  snapped  the  bow,  an  awful  clang, 
Loud  as  the  shriek  of  tempests,  rang. 
The  earth,  affrighted,  shook  amain 
As  when  a  hill  is  rent  in  twain. 
Then,  senseless  at  the  fearful  sound, 
The  people  fell  upon  the  ground  : 
None  save  the  king,  the  princely  pair, 
And  the  great  saint,  the  shock  could  bear, 

When  woke  to  sense  the  stricken  train, 
And  Janak's  soul  was  calm  again, 
With  suppliant  hands  and  reverent  head, 
These  words,  most  eloquent,  he  said: 

*  O  Saint,  Prince  Rama  stands  alone  : 
His  peerless  might  he  well  has  shown. 
A  marvel  has  the  hero  wrought 
Beyond  belief,  surpassing  thought. 
My  child,  to  royal  Rama  wed, 

New  glory  on  our  line  will  shed  : 
And  true  my  promise  will  remain 
That  hero's  worth  the  bride  should  gain, 
Dearer  to  me  than  light  and  life, 
My  Sita  shall  be  Rama's  wife. 
If  thou,  O  Brahman,  leave  concede, 
My  counsellors,  with  eager  speed, 
Borne  in  their  flying  cars,  to  fair 
Ayodhya's  town  the  news  shall  bear, 
With  courteous  message  to  entreat 
The  king  to  grace  my  royal  seat. 
This  to  the  monarch  shall  they  tell, 
The  br'de  is  his  who  won  her  well  : 
And  his  two  sons  are  resting  here 
Protected  by  the  holy  seer. 
So,  at  his  pleasure,  let  them  lead 
The  sovereign  to  my  town  with  speed.' 


The  hermit  to  his  prayer  inclined 
And  Janak,  lord  of  virtuous  mind, 
With  charges,  to  Ayodhya  sent 
His  ministers  :  and  forth  they  went. 

CANTO  LXVIII. 


THE  ENVOYS'  SPEECH. 

Three  nights  upon  the  road  they  passed 

To  rest  the  steeds  that  bore  them  fast, 

And  reached  Ayodhya's  town  at  last, 

Then  straight  at  Dasaratha's  call 

They  stood  within  the  royal  hall, 

Where,  like  a  God,  inspiring  awe, 

The  venerable  king  they  saw. 

With  suppliant  palm  to  palm  applied, 

And  all  their  terror  laid  aside,     • 

They  spoke  to  him  upon  the  throne 

With  modest  words,  in  gentle  tone  ; 

*  Janak,  Videha's  king,  O  Sire, 

Has  sent  us  hither  to  inquire 

The  health  of  thee  his  friend  most  dear, 

Of  all  thy  priests  and  every  peer.     • 

Next  Kusik's  son  consenting,  thus 

King  Janak  speaks,  dread  liege,  by  us  : 

'  I  made  a  promise  and  decree 

That  valour's  prize  my  child  should  be. 

Kings,  worthless  found  in  worth's  assay, 

With  mien  dejected  turned  away. 

Thy  sons,  by  Visvamitra  led, 

Unurged,  my  city  visited, 

And  peerless  in  their  might  have  gained 

My  daughter,  as  my  vow  ordained. 

Full  in  a  vast  assembly's  view 

Thy  hero  Rama  broke  in  two 

The  gern  of  bows,  of  monstrous  size, 

That  came  a  treasure  from  the  skies. 

Ordained  the  prize  of  hero's  might, 

Sita  my  child  is  his  by  right. 

Fain  would  I  keep  my  promise  made, 

If  thou,  O  King,  approve  and  aid. 

Come  to  my  town  thy  son  to  see  : 

Bring  holy  guide  and  priest  with  thee. 

O  lord  of  king?,  my  suit  allow, 

And  let  me  keep  my  promised  vow. 

So  joying  for  thy  children's  sake 

Their  triumph  too  shalt  thou  partake, 

With  Visvamitra's  high  consent.' 

*  Such  words  with  friendship  eloquent 

Spoke  Janak,  fair  Videha's  king, 

By  ^atananda's  counselling.' 

The  envoys  thus  the  king  addressed, 
And  mighty  joy  his  heart  possessed. 
To  Vamadeva  quick  he  cried, 
Vasishtha,  and  his  lords  beside  : 
'  Lakshman,  and  he,  my  princely  boy 
Who  fills  Kausalya's  soul  with  joy, 
By  Visvamitra  guarded  well 
Among  the  good  Videhans  dwell, 


so 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


Their  ruler  Janak,  prompt  to  own 

The  peerless  might  my  child  has  shown, 

To  him  would  knit  in  holy  ties 

His  daughter,  valour's  lovely  prize. 

If  Janak's  plan  seem  good  to  you, 

Come,  speed  we  to  his  city  too, 

Kor  let  occasion  idly  by.' 

He  ceased.    There  came  a  glad  reply 
From  priest  and  mighty  saint  and  all 
The  councillors  who  thronged  the  hall. 
Then  cried  the  king  with  joyous  heart : 
*  To-morrow  let  us  all  depart.' 

That  night  the  envoys  entertained 
With  honour  and  all  care  remained. 

CANTO  LXIX. 
DAgARATHA'S  VISIT. 

Soon  as  the  shades  of  night  had  fled, 
Thus  to  the  wise  Sumantra  said 
The  happy  king,  while  priest  and  peer, 
Each  in  his  place,  were  standing  near  : 
'Let  all  my  treasurers  to-day, 
Set  foremost  in  the  long  array, 
With  gold  and  precious  gems  supplied 
In  bounteous  store,  together  ride. 
And  send  you  out  a  mighty  force, 
Foot,  chariot,  elephant,  and  horse. 
Besides,  let  many  a  car  of  state, 
And  noblest  steeds,  my  will  await. 
Vasishtha,  Vamadeva  sage, 
And  Markandeya's  reverend  age, 
Javali,  Kasyap's  godlike  seed, 
And  wise  Katyayana,  shall  lead. 
Thy  care,  Sumantra,  let  it  be 
To  yoke  a  chariot  now  for  me, 
That  so  we  part  without  delay  : 
These  envoys  hasten  me  away.' 

So  fared  he  forth.  That  host,  with  speed, 
Quadruple,  as  the  king  decreed, 
With  priests  to  head  the  bright  array, 
Followed  the  monarch  on  his  way. 
Four  days  they  travelled  on  the  road, 
And  eve  Videha's  kingdom  showed. 
Janak  had  left  his  royal  seat 
The  venerable  king  to  greet, 
And,  nablest,  with  these  words  addressed 
That  noblest  lord,  his  happy  guest : 
'  Hail,  best  of  kings  :  a  blessed  fate 
Has  led  thee,  Monarch,  to  my  state. 
Thy  sons,  supreme  in  high  emprise, 
Will  gladden  now  their  father's  eyes. 
And  high  my  fate,  that  hither  leads 
Vasishtha,  bright  with  holy  deeds, 
Girt  with  these  sages  far-renowned, 
Like  Indra  with  the  Gods  around. 
Joy  1  joy !  for  vanquished  are  my  foes  : 
Joy !  for  my  house  in  glory  grows, 


With  Raghu's  noblest  sons  allied, 
Supreme  in  strength  and  valour's  pride. 
Tomorrow  with  its  early  light 
Will  shine  on  my  completed  rite. 
Then,  sanctioned  by  the  saints  and  thee, 
The  marriage  of  thy  Rama  see.' 

Then  Dasaratha,  best  of  those 
Whose  speech  in  graceful  order  flows, 
With  gathered  saints  on  every  side, 
Thus  to  the  lord  of  earth  replied  : 
*  A  truth  is  this  I  long  have  known, 
A  favour  is  the  giver's  own. 
What  thou  shalt  bid,  O  good  and  true, 
We,  as  our  power  permits,  will  do.' 

That  answer  of  the  truthful  lord, 
With  virtuous  worth  and  honour  stored, 
Janak,  Videha's  noble  king, 
Heard  gladly,  greatly  marvelling. 
With  bosoms  filled  with  pleasure  met 
Long-parted  saint  and  anchoret, 
And  linked,  in  friendship's  tie  they  spent 
The  peaceful  night  in  great  content. 

Rama  and  Lakshman  thither  sped, 
By  sainted  Visvamitra  led, 
And  bent  in  filial  love  to  greet 
Their  father,  and  embraced  his  feet. 
The  aged  king,  rejoiced  to  hear 
And  see  again  his  children  dear, 
Honoured  by  Janak's  thoughtful  care, 
With  great  enjoyment  rested  there. 
King  Janak,  with  attentive  heed, 
Consulted  first  his  daughters'  need, 
Ana  ordered  all  to  speed  the  rite ; 
Then  rested  also  for  the  night. 

CANTO  LXX. 
THE  MAIDENS  SOUGHT. 

Then  with  the  morn's  returning  sun, 
King  Janak,  when  his  rites  were  done, 
Skilled  all  the  charms  of  speech  to  know, 
Spoke  to  wise  Satananda  so  : 
1  My  brother,  lord  of  glorious  fame, 
My  younger,  Kusadhwaj  by  name, 
Whose  virtuous  life  has  won  renown, 
Has  settled  in  a  lovely  town, 
Srinkasya,  decked  with  grace  divine, 
Whose  glories  bright  as  Pushpak's  shine, 
While  Ikshumati  rolls  her  wave 
Her  lofty  rampart's  foot  to  lave. 
Him,  holy  priest,  I  long  to  see  : 
The  guardian  of  my  rite  is  he  : 
That  my  dear  brother  may  not  miss 
A  share  of  mine  expected  bliss.' 

Thus  in  the  presence  of  the  priest 
The  royal  Janak  spoke,  and  ceased. 
Then   came  his  henchmen,  prompt  and 
brave, 


Canto  LXX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


81 


To  whom  his  charge  the  monarch  gave. 

Soon  as  they  heard  his  will,  in  haste 

With  fleetest  steeds  away  they  raced, 

To  lead  with  them  that  lord  of  kings, 

As  Indra's  call  Lord  Vishnu  brings. 

Sankasya's  walls  they  duly  gained, 

And  audience  of  the  king  obtained. 

To  him  they  told  the  news  they  brought 

Of  marvels  past  and  Janak's  thought. 

Soon  as  the  king  the  story  knew 

From  those  good  envoys  swift  and  true, 

To  Janak's  wish  he  gave  assent, 

And  swift  to  Mithila  he  went. 

He  paid  to  Janak  reverence  due, 

And  holy  $atarianda  too, 

Then  sate  him  on  a  glorious  seat 

For  kings  or  Gods  celestial  meet. 

Soon  as  the  brothers,  noble  pair 

Peerless  in  might,  were  seated  there, 

They  gave  the  wise  Sudaman,  best 

Of  councillors,  their  high  behest : 

'Go,  noble  councillor,'  they  cried, 

'  And  hither  to  our  presence  guide 

Ikshvaku's  son,  Ayodhya's  lord, 

Invincible  by  foeman's  sword, 

With  both  his  sons,  each  holy  seer, 

And  every  minister  and  peer.' 

Sudaman  to  the  palace  flew, 

And  saw  the  mighty  king  who  threw 

Splendour  on  Raghu's  splendid  race, 

Then  bowed  his  head  with  seemly  grace  : 

'O  King,  whose  hand  Ayodhya  sways, 

My  lord,  whom  Mithila  obeys, 

Yearns  with  desire,  if  thou  agree, 

Thee  with  thy  guide  and  priest  to  see.' 

Soon  as  the  councillor  had  ceased. 

The  king,  with  saint  and  peer  and  priest, 

Sought,  speeding  through  the  palace  gate, 

The  hall  where  Janak  held  his  state. 

There,  with  his  nobles  round  him  spread, 

Thus  to  Videha's  lord  he  said  : 

'Thou  knowest,  King,  whose  aid  divine 

Protects  Ikshvaku's  myal  line. 

In  every  need,  whate'er  befall, 

The  saint  Vaaishtha  speaks  for  all. 

If  Visvamitra  so  allow, 

And  all  the  saints  around  me  now, 

The  sage  will  speak,  at  my  desire, 

As  order  and  the  truth  require.' 

Soon  as  the  king  his  lips  had  stilled, 
Up  rose  Vasishtha,  speaker  skilled, 
And  to  Videha's  lord  began 
In  flowing  words  that  holy  man  : 
'  From  viewless  Nature  Brahma  rose, 
No  change,  no  end,  no  waste  he  knows. 
A  son  had  he  Marichi  styled, 
And  Kasyap  was  Marichi's  child. 
From  him  Vivasvat  sprang  :  from  him 
Manu  whose  fame  shall  ne'er  be  dim. 
Manu,  who  life  to  mortals  gave, 
Begot  Ikshvaku  good  and  brave. 


First  of  Ayodhya's  kings  was  he, 

Pride  of  her  famous  dynasty. 

From  him  the  glorious  Kukshi  sprang, 

Whose  fame  through  all  the  regions  rang. 

Rival  of  Kukshi's  ancient  fame, 

His  heir,  the  great  Vikukshi,  came, 

His  son  was  Vana,  lord  of  might ; 

His  Anaranya,  s'trong  to  tight. 

His  son  was  Prithu,  glorious  name  ; 

From  him  the  good  Trisanku  came. 

He  left  a  son  renowned  afar, 

Known  by  the  name  of  Dhundhumar. 

His  son,  who  drove  the  mighty  car, 

Was  Yuvanasva,  feared  in  war. 

He  passed  away.     Him  followed  then 

His  son  Mandhata,  king  of  men. 

His  son  was  blest  in  high  emprise, 

Susandhi,  fortunate  and  wise. 

Two  noble  sons  had  he,  to  wit 

Dhruvasandhi  and  Prasenajit. 

Bharat  was  Dhruvasandhi's  son, 

And  giorious  fame  that  monarch  won. 

The  warrior  Asit  he  begot. 

Asit  had  warfare,  fierce  and  hot, 

With  rival  kings  in  many  a  spot, 

Haihayas,  Talajanghas  styled, 

And  £asivindus,  strong  and  wild. 

Long  time  he  strove,  but  forced  to  yield 

Fled  from  his  kingdom  and  the  field. 

With  his  two  wives  away  he  fled 

Where  high  Himalaya  lifts  his  head, 

And,  all  his  wealth  and  glory  past, 

He  paid  the  dues  of  Fate  at  last. 

The  wives  he  left  had  both  conceived — 

So  is  the  ancient  tale  believed — 

One,  of  her  rival's  hopes  afraid 

Fell  poison  in  her  viands  laid. 

It  chanced  that  Chyavan,  Bhrigu's  child, 

Had  wandered  to  that  pathless  wild, 

And  there  Himalaya's  lovely  height 

Detained  him  with  a  strange  delight. 

There  came  the  other  widowed  queen, 

With  lotus  eyes  and  beauteous  mien, 

Longing  a  noble  son  to  bear, 

And  wooed  the  saint  with  earnest  prayer. 

When  thus  Kalindi,1  fairest  dame, 

With  reverent  supplication  came, 

To  her  the  holy  sage  replied  : 

'Born  with  the  poison  from  thy  side, 

O  happy  Queen,  shall  spring  ere  long 

An  infant  fortunate  and  strong. 

Then  weep  no  more,  and  check  thy  sighs, 

Sweet  lady  of  the  lotus  eyes.' 

The  queen,  who  loved  her  perished  lord, 

For  meet  reply,  the  saint  adored, 

And,  of  her  husband  long  bereaved, 

She  bore  a  son  by  him  conceived. 

Because  her  rival  mixed  the  bane 


1  A  different  lady  from  the  Goddess  of 
the  Jumna  who  bears  the  same  name. 


THE  RAMAYAX. 


Zoolc  I. 


To  render  her  conception  vain, 
And  fruit  uriripened  to  destroy, 
Sugar1   she  called  her  darling  boy 
To  Sagar  Asamanj  was  heir  : 
Bright  Ansuman  his  consort  bare. 
An  simian's  son,  Dilipa  famed, 
Begot  a  son  Bhagirath  named. 
From  him  the  great  Kakutstha  rose  : 
From  him  came  Raghu,  feared  by  foea, 
Of  him  sprang  Purushadak  bold, 
Fierce  hero  of  gigantic  mould  : 
Kalmashapada's  name  he  bore, 
Because  his  feet  were  spotted  o'er.2 
From  him  came  Lankan,  and  from  him 
Sudarsan,  fair  in  face  and  limb. 
From  beautiful  Sudarsan  came 
Prince  Agnivarna,  bright  as  flame. 
His  son  was  Sighraga,  for  speed 
Unmatched  ;  and  Maru  was  his  seed, 
Prasusruka  was  Maru's  child  • 
His  son  was  Ambarisha  styled. 
Nahush  was  Ambarisha's  heir, 
The  mighty  lord  of  regions  fair : 
Nahush  begot  Yayati :  he, 
Nabhag  of  happy  destiny. 
Son  of  Nabhag  was  Aja  :  his, 
The  glorious  Dasaratha  is, 
Whose  noble  children  boast  to  be 
K4ma  and  Lakshman,  whom  we  see. 
Thus  dp  those  kings  of  purest  race 
Their  lineage  from  Ikshvaku  trace  : 
Their  hero  lives  the  right  maintained, 
Theirlips  with  falsehood  ne'er  were  stained, 
In  Kama's  and  in  Lakshman's  name 
Thy  daughters  as  their  wives  I  claim, 
So  shall  in  equal  bands  be  tied 
Each  peerless  youth  with  peerless  bride.' 


CANTO  LXXL 


JAKAK'S  PEDIGREE. 

Then  to  the  saint  supremely  wise 
King  Janak  spoke  in  suppliant  guise  : 
*  Deign,  Hermit,  with  attentive  ear, 
My  race's  origin  to  hear. 
When  kings  a  daughter's  hand  bestow, 
'Tis  right  their  line  and  fame  to  show. 
There  was  a  king  whose  deeds  and  worth 
Spread  wide  his  name  through  heaven  and 
earth, 

1  This  is  another  fanciful  derivation, 
Sa — with,  and  gara — poison. 

*  PurnsJiddak  means  a  cannibal.  First 
called  Kalmdshapdda  on  account  of  his 
spotted  feet  he  is  said  to  have  been  turned 
into  a  cannibal  for  killing  the  son  of 
Vaaishtua. 


Nimi,  most  virtuous  e'en  from  youth, 
The  best  of  all  who  love  the  truth. 
His  son  and  heir  was  Mithi,  and 
His  Janak,  first  who  ruled  this  land. 
He  left  a  son  Udavasu, 
Blest  with  all  virtues,  good  and  true. 
His  son  was  Nandivardhan,  dear 
For  pious  heart  and  worth  sincere, 
His  son  Suketu,  hero  brave, 
To  Devarat,  existence  gave. 
King  Devarat,  a  royal  sage, 
For  virtue,  glory  of  the  age, 
Begot  Vrihadratha  ;  and  he 
Begot,  his  worthy  heir  to  be, 
The  splendid  hero  Mahabir 
Who  long  in  glory  governed  here. 
His  son  was  Sudhriti,  a  youth 
Firm  in  his  purpose,  crave  in  sooth. 
His  son  was  Dhristaketu,  blest 
With  pious  will  and  holy  breast. 
The  fame  of  royal  saint  he  won : 
Haryasva  was  his  princely  son. 
Haryasva's  son  was  Maru,  who 
Begot  Pratindhak,  wise  and  true. 
Next  Kirtiratha  held  the  throne, 
His  son,  for  gentle  virtues  known. 
Then  followed  Devamidha,  then 
Vibudh,  Mahandhrak,  kings  of  men. 
Mahandhrak  s  son,  of  boundless  mighty 
Was  Kirtirat,  who  loved  the  right. 
He  passed  away,  a  sainted  king, 
And  Maharoma  following 
To  Swarnaroma  left  the  state. 
Then  Hrasv  aroma,  good  and  great, 
Succeeded,  and  to  him  a  pair 
Of  sons  his  royal  consort  bare, 
Elder  of  these  I  boast  to  be  : 
Brave  Kusadhwaj  is  next  to  me.1 
Me  then,  the  elder  of  the  twain, 
My  sire  anointed  here  to  reign. 
He  bade  me  tend  my  brother  well, 
Then  to  the  forest  went  to  dwell. 
He  sought  the  heavens,  and  I  sustained 
The  burden  as  by  Jaw  ordained, 
And  noble  Kusadhwaj,  the  peer 
Of  Gods,  I  ever  held  most  dear. 
Then  came  Sankasya's  mighty  lord, 
Sudhanva,  threatening  siege  and  sword. 
And  bade  me  swift  on  him  bestow 
Diva's  incomparable  bow, 


1  '  Jn  the  setting  forth  of  these  royal 
genealogies  the  Bengal  recension  varies 
but  slightly  from  the  Northern.  The  first 
six  names  of  the  genealogy  of  the  Kings 
of  Ayodhya  are  partly  theogonical  and 
partly  cosmogonical ;  the  other  names  are 
no  doubt  in  accordance  with  tradition  and 
deserve  the  same  amount  of  credence  aa 
the  ancient  traditional  genealogies  of 
other  nations,'  GOKRESIO. 


Canto  LXXIL 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


And  Sita  of  the  lotus  eyes  : 
But  I  refused  each  peerless  prize. 
Then,  host  to  host,  we  met  the  foes, 
Arid  fierce  the  din  of  battle  rose. 
Budhanva,  foremost  of  his  band, 
Fell  smitten  by  my  single  hand. 
When  thus  Sankasya's  lord  was  slain, 
I  sanctified,  as  laws  ordain, 
My  brother  in  his  stead  to  reign, 
Thus  are  we  brothers,  Saint  most  high 
The  younger  he,  the  elder  I. 
Now,  mighty  Sage,  my  spirit  joys 
To  give  these  maidens  to  the  boys. 
Let  Sita  be  to  Kama  tied, 
And  Urmila  be  Lakshman's  bride. 
First  give,  O  King,  the  gift  of  cows, 
As  dowry  of  each  royal  spouse, 
Due  offerings  to  the  spirits  pay, 
And  solemnize  the  wedding-day. 
The  moon  to-night,  O  royal  Sage, 
In  Magha's1  House  takes  harbourage  ; 
On  the  third  night  his  rays  benign 
In  second  Phalguni34  will  shine  : 
Be  that  the  day,  with  prosperous  fate, 
The  nuptial  rites  to  celebrate.1 


CANTO  LXXII. 


THE  GIFT  OF  KINE. 

When  royal  Janak's  word.^were  done, 
Joined  with  Vasishtha  Kusik's  son, 
The  mighty  sage  began  his  speech  : 
'  No  mind  may  scan,  no  thought  can  reach 
The  glories  of  Ikshvtiku's  line, 
Or,  great  Videha's  King,  of  thine: 
None  in  the  whole  wide  world  may  vie 
With  them  in  fame  and  honours  high. 
Well  matched,  I  ween,  in  holy  bands, 
These  peerless  pairs  will  join  their  hands. 
But  hear  me  as  I  speak  once  more  : 
Thy  brother,  skilled  in  duty's  lore, 
Has  at  his  home  a  royal  pair 
Of  daughters  most  divinely  fair, 
I  for  the  hands  of  these  sweet  two 
For  Bharat  and  &atrughua  sue, 
Both  princes  of  heroic  mould, 
Wise,  fair  of  form,  and  lofty-souled. 
All  Dasarabha's  sons,  I  ween, 
Own  each  young  grace  of  form  and  mien: 
Brave  as  the  Gods  are  they,  nor  yield 
To  the  great  Lords  the  worlds  who  shield. 

1  The  tenth  of  the  lunar  asterisms,  com- 
posed of  live  stars, 

2  There  are  two  lunar  asterisms  of  this 
name,  one  following  the  other  immediately, 
forming  the  eleventh   and  twelf  in  of  the 
lunar  mansions. 


By  these,  good  Prince  of  merits  high, 
Ikshvaku's  house  with  thine  ally.' 
The  suit  the  holy  sage  preferred, 
With  willing  ear  the  monarch  heard  : 
Vasishtha's  lips  the  counsel  praised  : 
Then  spake  the  king  with  hands  upraised: 
'  Now  blest  indeed  my  race  I  deem, 
Which  your  high  will,  O  Saints  supreme, 
With  Dasaratha's  house  unites 
In  bonds  of  love  and  marriage  rites. 
So  be  it  done.     My  nieces  twain 
Let  Bharat  and  Satrughna  gain, 
And  the  four  youths  the  selfsame  day 
Four  maiden  hands  in  theirs  shall  lay. 
No  day  so  lucky  may  compare, 
For  marriage — so  the  wise  declare — 
With  the  last  day  of  Phalguni 
Ruled  by  the  genial  deity.' 
Then  with  raised  hands  in  reverence  due 
To  those  arch -saints  he  spoke  anew  : 
'  I  am  your  pupil,  ever  true  : 
To  me  high  favour  have  ye  shown  ; 
Come,  sit  ye  on  my  royal  throne, 
For  Dasaratha  rules  these  towers 
E'en  as  Ayodhya  now  is  ours. 
Do  with  your  own  whatever  ye  choose  : 
Your  lordship  here  will  none  refuse.' 

He  spoke,  and  to  Videha's  king 
Thus  Dasaratha,  answering : 
'Boundless   your    virtues,    lords,    whose 

sway 

The  realms  of  Mithila  obey. 
With  honouring  care  you  entertain 
Both  holy  sage  and  royal  train. 
Now  to  my  house  my  steps  I  bend — 
May  blessings  still  on  you  at  end — 
Due  offerings  to  the  shades  to  pay.' 
Thus  spoke  the  king,  and  turned  away  : 
To  Janak  first  he  bade  adieu, 
Then  followed  fast  those  holy  two. 
The  monarch  reached  his  palace  where 
The  rites  were  paid  with  solemn  care. 
When  the  next  sun  began  to  shine 
He  rose  arid  made  his  gift  of  kine. 
A  hundred  thousand  cows  prepared 
For  each   young  prince    the    Drahmans 

shared. 

Each  had  her  horns  adorned  with  gold  ; 
And  duly  was  the  number  told, 
Four  hundred  thousand  perfect  tale: 
Each  brought  a  calf,  eacn  filled  a  pail, 
And  when  that  glorious  task  was  o'er, 
The  monarch  with  his  children  four, 
Showed  like  the  Lord  of  Life  divine 
When  the  worlds'  guardians  round  him 

shine, 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  /. 


CANTO  LXXIII. 


THE  NUPTIALS. 

On  that  same  day  that  saw  the  king 
His  gift  of  kine  distributing, 
The  lord  of  Kekaya'a  son,  by  name 
Yudhajit,  Hharat's  uncle,  came, 
Asked  of  the  monarch's  health,  and  then 
Addressed  the  reverend  king  of  men  : 
'  The  lord  of  Kekaya's  realm  by  me 
Sends  greeting,  noble  King,  to'thee  : 
Asks  if  the  friends  thy  prayers  would  bless 
Uninterrupted  health  possess. 
Right  anxious,  mighty  King,  is  he 
My  sister's  princely  boy  to  see. 
For  this  I  sought  Ayodhya  fair 
The  message  of  my  sire  to  bear. 
There  learning,  O  my  liege,  that  thou 
With  sons  and  noble  kinsmen  now 
Wast  resting  here,  I  sought  the  place 
Longing  to  see  my  nephew's  face.' 
The  king  with  kind  observance  cheered 
His  friend  by  tender  ties  endeared, 
And  every  choicest  honour  pressed 
Upon  his  honourable  guest. 

That  night  with  all  his  children  spent, 
At  morn  King  Dasaratha  went, 
Behind  Vasishtha  and  the  rest, 
To  the  fair  ground  for  rites  addressed. 
Then  when  the  lucky  hour  was  nigh 
Called  Victory,  of  omen  high, 
Came  Rama,  after  vow  and  prayer 
For  nuptial  bliss  and  fortune  fair, 
With  the  three  youths  in  bright  attire, 
And  stood  beside  his  royal  sire. 
To  Janak  then  Vasishtha  sped, 
And  to  Videha's  monarch  said  : 
'  O  King,  Ayodhya's  ruler  now 
Has  breathed  the  prayer  and  vowed  the 

vow. 

And  with  his  sons  expecting  stands 
The  giver  of  the  maidens'  hands. 
The  giver  and  the  taker  both 
Must  ratify  a  mutual  oath. 
Perform  the  part  for  which  we  wait, 
And  rites  of  marriage  celebrate.' 

Skilled  in  thelaws  which  Scriptures  teach, 
He  answered  thus  Vasishtha's  speech  : 
« O  Saint,  what  warder  bars  the  gate  ? 
Whose  bidding  can  the  king  await  ? 
In  one's  own  house  what  doubt  is  shown  ? 
This  kingdom,  Sage,  is  all  thine  own. 
E'en  now  the  maidens  may  be  found 
Within  the  sacrificial  ground  : 
Each  vow  is  vowed  and  prayed  each  prayer, 
And  they,  like  fire,  are  shining  there. 
Here  by  the  shrine  my  place  I  took 
Expecting  thee  with  eager  look. 


No  bar  the  nuptial  rites  should  stay: 
What  cause  have  we  for  more  delay  ? ' 
When  Janak's  speech  the  monarch  heard, 
To  sons  and  saints  he  gave  the  word, 
And  set  them  in  the  holy  ring, 
Then  to  Vasishtha  spoke  the  king 
Of  Mithila  :  'O  mighty  Sage, 
Mow  let  this  task  thy  care  engage, 
And  lend  thine  aid  and  counsel  wise 
The  nuptial  rites  to  solemnize.' 

The  saint  Vasishtha  gave  assent, 
And  quickly  to  the  task  he  went, 
With  Visvainitra,  nothing  loth, 
And  Satananda  aiding  both. 
Then,  as  the  rules  prescribe,  they  made 
An  altar  in  the  midst,  and  laid 
Fresh  wreaths  of  fragrant  flowers  thereon. 
The  golden  ladles  round  it  shone  ; 
And  many  a  vase,  which  branches  hid 
Fixed  in  the  perforated  lid, 
And  sprays,  and  cups,  and  censers  there 
Stood  filled  with  incense  rich  and  rare  ; 
Shell-bowls,  and  spoons,  and  salvers  dressed 
With  gifts  tbat  greet  the  honoured  guest; 
Piles  of  parched  rice  some  dishes  bore, 
Others  with  coin  prepared  ran  o'er  ; 
And  holy  grass  was  duly  spread 
In  equal  length?,  while  prayers  were  said. 
Next  chief  of  saints,  Vasishtha  came 
And  laid  the  offering  in  the  flame. 
Then  by  the  hand  King  Janak  drew 
His  Sita,  beautiful  to  view, 
And  placed  her,  bright  in  rich  attire, 
Rama  to  face,  before  the  fire, 
Thus  speaking  to  the  royal  boy 
Who  filled  Kausalya's  heart  with  joy: 
*  Here  Sita  stands,  my  daughter  fair, 
The  duties  of  thy  life  to  share. 
Take  from  her  father,  take  thy  bride  ; 
Join  hand  to  hand,  and  bliss  betide  ! 
A  fathf ul  wife,  most  blest  is  she, 
And  as  thy  shade  will  follow  thee.' 

Tims  as  he  spoke  the  monarch  threw 
O'er  her  young  limbs  the  holy  dew, 
While  Gods  and  saints  were    heard  to 

swell 

The  joyous  cry,  'Tis  well !  'Tis  well ! 
His  daughter  Sita  thus  bestowed, 
O'er  whom  the  sacred  drops  had  flowed. 
King  Janak's  heart  with  rapture  glowed. 
Then  to  Prince  Lakshman  thus  he  cried  : 
1  Take  Urmila  thine  offered  bride, 
And  clasp  her  hand  within  thine  own 
Ere  yet  the  lucky  hour  be  flown.' 
Then  to  Prince  Bharat  thus  cried  he  : 
'Come,  take  the  hand  of  Mandavi.' 
Then  to  gatrughna  :  *  In  thy  grasp 
The  hand  of  Srutakirti  clasp. 
Now,  Raghu's  sons,  may  all  of  you 
Be  gentle  to  your  wives  and  true  ; 


Canto  LXXIV. 


THE  RAM  A  TAN-. 


85 


Keep  well  the  vows  you  make  to-day, 
Nor  let  occasion  slip  away.' 
-    King  Janak's  word  the  youths  obeyed  ; 
The  maidens'  hands  in  theirs  they  laid. 
Then  with  their  brides  the  princes  went 
With  ordered  steps  and  reverent 
Bound  both  the  tire  and  Janak,  round 
The  sages  and  the  sacred  ground. 

A  flowery  flood  of  lucid  dyes 
In  rain  descended  from  the  skies, 
While  with  celestial  voices  blent 
Sweet  strains  from  many  an  instrument, 
And  the  nymphs  danced  in  joyous  throng 
Responsive  to  the  minstrel's;  song. 
Such  signs  of  exultation  they 
Saw  on  the  princes'  wedding  day. 
Still  rang  the  heavenly  music's  sound 
When  Kaghu's  sons  thrice  circled  round 
The  fire,  each  one  with  reverent  head, 
And  homeward  then  their  brides  they  led. 
They  to  the  sumptuous  palace  hied 
That  Janak's  care  had  seen  supplied. 
The  monarch  girt  witli  saint  and  peer 
Still  fondly  gazing  followed  near. 


CANTO  LXXIV. 


RA:MA  WITH  THE  AXE.  > 

Soon  as  the  night  had  reached  its  close 
The  hermit  Visvamitra  rose  ; 
To  both  the  kings  he  bade  adieu 
And  to  the  northern  hill  withdrew. 
Ayodhya's  lord  of  high  renown 
Received  farewell,  and  sought  his  town. 
Then  as  each  daughter  left  her  bower 
King  Janak  gave  a  splendid  dower, 
Rugs,  precious  silks,  a  warrior  force, 
Cars,  elephants,  and  foot,  and  horse, 
Divine  to  see  and  well  arrayed  ; 
And  many  a  skilful  tiring-maid, 
And  many  a  young  and  trusty  slave 
The  father  of  the  ladies  gave. 
Silver  and  coral,  gold  and  pearls 
He  gave  to  his  beloved  girls. 
These  precious  gifts  the  king  bestowed 
And  sped  his  guest  upon  his  road. 
The  lord  of  Mithila's  sweet  town 
Rode  to  his  court  and  lighted  down. 

1  This  is  another  Rama,  son  of  Jamad- 
agni,  called  Parasurama,  or  Rama  with 
the  axe,  from  the  weapon  which  he 
carried.  He  was  while  he  lived  the  terror 
of  the  Warrior  caste,  and  his  name  recalls 
long  and  fierce  struggles  between  the 
sacerdotal  and  military  order  in  which 
the  latter  suffered  severely  at  the  hands 
of  their  implacable  enemy. 


Ayodhya's  monarch,  glad  and  gay, 
Led  by  the  seers  pursued  his  way 
With  his  dear  sons  of  lofty  mind  : 
The  royal  army  marched  behind. 
As  on  he  fared  the  voice  he  heard 
Around  of  many  a  dismal  bird, 
And  every  beast  in  wild  affright 
Began  to  hurry  to  the  right. 
The  monarch  to  Vasishtha  cried  : 
'  What  strange  misfortune  will  betide  ? 
Why  do  the  beasts  in  terror  fly, 

,  And  birds  of  evil  omen  cry  ? 

!  What  is  it  shakes  my  heart  with  dread  ? 
Why  is  my  soul  disquieted?' 

Soon  as  he  heard,  the  mighty  saint 
Thus  answered  Dasaratha's  plaint 
In  sweetest  tone  :  '  Now,  Monarch,  mark, 
And  learn  from  me  the  meaning  dark. 
The  voices  of  the  birds  of  air 
Great  peril  to  the  host  declare  : 
The  moving  beasts  the  dread  allay, 
So  drive  thy  whelming  fear  away.' 

As  he  and  Da^aratha  spoke 
A  tempest  from  the  welkin  broke, 
That  shook  the  spacious  earth  arnain 
And  hurled  high  trees  upon  the  plain. 
The  sun  grew  dark  with  murky  cloud, 
And  o'er  the  fckies  was  cast  a  shroud, 
While  o'er  the  army,  faint  with  dread, 
A  veil  of  dust  and  ashes  spread. 
King,  princes,  saints  their  sense  retained, 
Fear-stupefied  the  rest  remained. 
At  length,  their  wits  returning,  all 
Beneath  the  gloom  and  ashy  pall 
Saw  Jamadagrii's  son  with  dread, 
His  long  hair  twisted  round  his  head, 
Who,  sprung  from  Bhrigu,  loved  to  beat 
The  proudest  kings  beneath  his  feet. 
Firm  as  Kailasa's  hill  he  showed, 
Fierce  as  the  fire  of  doom  he  glowed. 
His  axe  upon  his  shoulder  lay, 
His  bow  was  ready  for  the  fray, 
With  thirsty  arrows  wont  to  fly 
Like  Lightnings  from  the  angry  sky. 
A  long  keen  arrow  forth  he  drew, 
Invincible  like  those  which  flew 
From  Diva's  ever-conquering  bow 
And  Tripura  in  death  laid  low. 

When  his  wild  form,  that  struck  with  awe, 
Fearful  as  ravening  flame,  they  saw, 
Vasishtha  and  the  saints  whose  care 
Was  sacrifice  and  muttered  prayer, 
Drew  close  together,  each  to  each, 
And  questioned  thus  with  bated  speech : 
*  Indignant  at  his  father's  fate 
Will  he  on  warriors  vent  his  hate, 
The  slayers  of  his  father  slay, 
And  sweep  the  loathed  race  away  ? 
But  when  of  old  his  fury  raged 
Seas  of  their  blood  his  wrath  assuaged i 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  I. 


So  doubtless  now  he  lias  not  planned 
To  slay  all  warriors  in  the  land.' 

Then  with  a  gift  the  saints  drew  near 
To  Bhrigu's  son  whose  look  was  fear, 
And  Rama  !  llama  !  soft  they  cried. 
The  gift  he  took,  no  word  replied. 
Then  Brigu's  son  his  silence  broke 
And  thus  to  Rama  Rama  spoke: 

CANTO  LXXV. 


THE  PARLB. 

'  Heroic  Rama,  men  proclaim 
The  marvels  of  thy  matchless  fame, 
And  I  from  loud-voiced  rumour  know 
The  exploit  of  the  broken  bow, 
Yea,  bent  and  broken,  mighty  Chief, 
A  feat  most  wondrous,  past  belief. 
Stirred  by  thy  fame  thy  face  1  sought: 
A  peerless  bow  1  too  have  brought. 
This  mighty  weapon,  strong  and  dire, 
Great  Jamadagni  owned,  my  sire. 
iJraw  with  its  shaft  my  father's  bow, 
And  thus  thy  might,  O  Kama,  show. 
This  proof  of  prowess  let  me  see — 
The  weapon  bent  and  drawn  by  thee  ; 
Then  single  fight  our  strength  shall  tiy, 
And  this  shall  raise  thy  glory  high.' 
King  Dasaratha  heard  with  dread 
The  boastful  speech,  and  thus  he  said  ; 
Raising  his  hands  hi  suppliant  guise, 
With  pallid  cheek  and  timid  eyes: 
'Forgetful  of  the  bloody  feud 
Ascetic  toils  hast  thou  pursued  ; 
Then,  Brahman,  let  my  children  be 
Untroubled  and  from  danger  free, 
Sprung  of  the  race  of  Bhrigu,  who 
Head  holy  lore,  to  vows  most  true, 
Thou  swarest  to  the  Thousand-eyed 
And  thy  tierce  axe  was  cast  aside. 
Thou  turnedst  to  thy  rites  away 
Leaving  the  earth  to  Kagyap's  sway, 
And  we u test  far  a  grove  to  seek 
Beneath  Mahendra's1  mountain  peak. 


1  '  The  author  of  the  Ragliuvansa  places 
the  mountain  Mahendra  in  the  territory 
of  the  king  of  the  Kaliiigans,  whose  palace 
commanded  a  view  of  the  ocean.  It  is 
well  known  that  the  country  along  the 
coast  to  the  south  of  the  mouths  of  the 
Gauges  was  the  seat  of  this  people.  Hence 
jt  may  be  suspected  that  this  Mahendra 
is  what  Pliny  calls  "  promontorium  Cal- 
ingoii."  The  modern  name  Cape  Pal- 
wyras,  from  the  palmyras  (Borassus  hV 
beilitorniis)  whica  abound  there  agrees 


ttow,  mighty  Hermit,  art  thou  here 
To  slay  us  all  with  doom  severe? 
For  if  alone  my  Rama  fall, 
We  share  his  fate  and  perish  all.' 

As  thus  the  aged  sire  complained 
The  mighty  chief  no  answer  deigned. 
To  Rama  only  thus  he  cried  : 
'  Two  bows,  the  Heavenly  Artist's  pride, 
Celestial,  peerless,  vast,  and  strong, 
By  all  the  worlds  were  honoured  long. 
One  to  the  Three -eyed  God1  was  given, 
Bv  glory  to  the  conflict  driven, 
Thus  armed  fierce  Tripura  he  slew  : 
And  then  by  thee  'twas  burst  in  two. 
The  second  bow,  which  few  may  brave, 
The  highest  Gods  to  Vishnu  gave. 
This  bow  I  hold  :  before  it  fall 
The  foeman's  fenced  tower  and  wall. 
Then  prayed  the  Gods  the  Sire  Most  High 
Bv  some  unerring  proof  to  try 
Were  praise  for  might  Lord  Vishnu's  due, 
Or  his  whose  Neck  is|stained  with  Blue.5' 
The  mighty  Sire  their  wishes  knew, 
And  he  whose  lips  are  ever  true 
Caused  the  two  Gods  to  meet  as  foes. 
Then  fierce   the  rage  of 'battle  rose: 
Bristled  in  dread  each  starting  hair 
As  $iva  strove  with  Vishnu  there. 
But  Vishnu  raised  his  voice  amain, 
And  £iva''s  bowstring  twanged  in  vain  ; 
Its  master  of  the  Three  bright  Eyes 
Stood  tixt  in  fury  and  surprise. 
Then  all  the  dwellers  in  the  sky, 
•Minstrel,  and  saint,  and  God  drew  nigh, 
And  prayed  them  that  the  strife  might  cease, 
And  the  great  rivals  met  in  peace. 
'Twas  seen  how  Diva's  bow  has  failed 
Unnerved,  when  Vishnu's  might  assailed, 
And  Gods  and  heavenly  sages  thence 
To  Vishnu  gave  preeminence. 
Then  glorious  $iva  in  his  rage 
Gave  it  to  Devarat  the  sage 
Who  ruled  Videha's  fertile  land, 
To  pass  it  down  from  hand  to  hand. 
But  this  my  bow,  whose  shafts  smite  down 
The  foeman's  fenced  tower  and  town. 
To  great  Richika  Vishnu  lent 
To  be  a  pledge  and  ornament. 
Then  Jamadagni,  Brahman  dread, 
My  sire,  the  bow  inherited. 
But  Arjun  stooped  to  treachery  vile 
And  slew  my  noble  sire  by  guile, 
Whose  penance  awful  strength  had  gained, 
Whose  hand  the  God  -given  bow  retained. 


remarkably  with  the  description  of  the 
poet  who  speaks  of  the  groves  of  these 
trees.  Ragkuvahta,  VI.  51.'  SCHLEGEL. 

1  £iva 

z  Siva,  God  of  the  Azure  Neck.  • 


Canto  LXXVI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


87 


I  heard  indignant  how  he  fell 

By  mournful  fate,  too  sad  to  tell. 

My  vengeful  fury  since  that  time 

Scourges  all  Warriors  for  the  crime. 

As  generations  spring  to  life 

I  war  tliem  down  in  endless  strife. 

All  earth  I  brought  beneath  my  sway, 

And  gave  it  for  his  meed  and  pay 

To  holy  Kasyap,  when  of  yore 

The  rites  performed  by  him  were  o'er. 

Then  to  Mahendra's  hill  I  turned 

Strong  in  the  strength  that  penance  earned, 

And  toiled  upon  his  lofty  head 

By  Gods  immortal  visited. 

The  breaking  of  the  bow  I  knew 

From  startled  Gods  conversing,  through 

The  airy  regions,  of  thy  deed, 

And  hither  came  with  swiftest  speed. 

Now,  for  thy  Warrior's  honour  sake, 

This  best  of  bows,  O  Rama,  take  : 

This,  owned  by  Vishnu's  self  of  old, 

My  sire  and  grandsire  loved  to  hold. 

Drawn  to  its  head  upon  the  string 

One  town-destroying  arrow  bring  ; 

If  this  thou  can,  O  hero,  1 

In  single  tight  thy  strength  will  try.' 


CANTO  LXXVI. 


DEBARRED  FROM  HEAVEN. 

The  haughty  challenge,  undeterred 
The  son  of  Dasaratha  heard, 
And  cried,  while  reverence  for  his  sire 
Checked  the  full  torrent  of  his  ire: 
'  Before  this  day  have  I  been  told 
The  deed  that  stained  thy  hands  of  old. 
But  pity  bids  my  soul  forget  : 
Thy  father,  murdered,  claimed  the  debt. 
My  strength,  O  Chief,  thou  deemest  slight, 
Too  feeble  for  a  Warrior's  might. 
Now  will  I  show  thy  wondering  eyes 
The  prowess  which  they  dare  despise,' 
He  hastened  then  with  graceful  ease 
That  mighty  bow  and  shaft  to  seize. 
His  hand  the  weapon  strung  and  swayed  : 
The  arrow  on  the  string  was  laid. 
Then  Jamadagni's  son  he  eyed, 
And  thus  in  words  of  fury  cried : 
'  Thou  art  a  Brahman,  still  to  be 
Most  highly  honoured,  Chief,  by  me. 
For  Visvtunitra's  sake  beside 
Shall  reverence  due  be  ne'er  denied. 
Though  mine  the  power,  I  would  not  send 
A  dart  at  thee  thy  life  to  end. 
But  thy  great  power  to  wander  free, 
Which  penance-rites  have  won  for  thee, 
Or  glorious  worlds  from  thee  to  wrest, 
Is  the  iirin  purpose  of  my  breast. 


And  Vishnu's  dart  which  now  I  strain 
Can  ne'er  be  shot  to  fall  in  vain  : 
It  strikes  the  mighty,  and  it  stuns 
The  madness  of  the  haughty  ones.' 

Then  Gods,  and  saints  and  heavenly  choir 
Preceded  by  the  General  Sire, 
Met  in  the  air  and  gazed  below 
On  Rama  with  that  wondrous  bow. 
Nymph,  minstrel,  angel,  all  were  there, 
Snake-God,  and  spirit  of  the  air, 
Giant,  and  bard,  and  gryphon,  met, 
Their  eyes  upon  the  marvel  set. 
In  senseless  hush  the  world  was  chained 
While  Rama's  hand  the  bow  retained. 
And  Jamadagni's  son  amazed 
And  powerless  on  the  hero  gazed. 
Then  when  his  swelling  heart  had  shrunk, 
And  his  proud  strength  in  torpor  sunk, 
Scarce  his  voice  ventured,  low  and  weak, 
To  Rama  lotus-eyed,  to  speak: 
'  When  long  ago  I  gave  away 
The  whole  broad  land  to  Kasyap's  sway, 
He  charged  me  never  to  remain 
Within  the  limits  of  his  reign. 
Obedient  to  my  guide's  behest 
On  earth  by  night  I  never  rest. 
My  choice  is  made.    I  will  not  dim 
Mine  honour  and  be  false  to  him. 
So,  son  of  Raghu,  leave  me  still 
The  power  to  wander  where  I  will, 
And  swifter  than  the  thought  rny  flight 
Shall  place  me  on  Mahendra's  height. 
My  mansions  of  eternal  joy, 
By  penance  won,  thou  mayst  destroy. 
My  path  to  these  thy  shaft  may  stay. 
Now  to  the  work  !  No  more  delay  1 
I  know  thee  Lord  of  Gods  ;  J  know 
Thy  changeless  might  laid  Madhu  low. 
All  other  hands  would  surely  fail 
To  bend  this  bow.    All  hail !  all  hail ! 
See  !  all  the  Gods  have  left  the  skies 
To  bend  on  thee  their  eager  eyes, 
With  whose  achievements  none  compete, 
Whose  arm  in  war  no  God  can  meet. 
No  shame  is  mine.  I  ween,  for  thou, 
Lord  of  the  Worlds,  hast  dimmed  my  brow. 
Now,  pious  Rama,  'tis  thy  part 
To  shoot  afar  that  glorious  dart : 
I,  when  the  fatal  shaft  is  shot, 
Will  seek  that  hill  and  tarry  not.* 

He  ceased.    The  wondrous  arrow  flew, 
And  Jamadagni's  offspring  knew 
Those  glorious  worlds  to  him  were  barred, 
Once  gained  by  penance  long  and  hard, 
Then  straight  the  airy  quarters  cleared, 
And  the  mid  regions  bright  appeared, 
While  Gods  and  saints  unnumbered  praised 
Rama,  the  mighty  bow  who  raised. 
And  Jamadagni's  son,  o 'era wed, 
Extolled  his  name  with  highest  laud, 


88 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  I. 


With  reverent  steps  around  him  strode, 
Then  hastened  on  his  airyfroad. 
Far  from  the  sight  of  all  he  fled, 
And  rested  on  Mahendra's  head, 


CANTO  LXXVIL 


BHABAT'S  DEPARTURE. 

Then  Rama  with  a  cheerful  mind 
The  bow  to  Varun's  hand  resigned. 
Due  reverence  to  the  saints  he  paid, 
And  thus  addressed  his  sire  dismayed  : 
*  As  Bhrigu's  son  is  far  from  view, 
Now  let  the  host  its  march  pursue, 
And  to  Ayodhya's  town  proceed 
In  four-fold  bands,  with  thee  to  lead,' 

King  Dasnratha  thus  addressed 
His  lips  to  Rama's  forehead  pressed, 
And  held  him  to  his  aged  breast. 
Rejoiced  in  sooth  was  he  to  know 
That  Bhrigu's  son  had  parted  so, 
And  hailed  a  second  life  begun 
For  him  and  his  victorious  son. 
He  urged  the  host  to  speed  renewed, 
And  soon  Ayodhya's  gates  he  viewed. 
High  o'er  the  roofs  gay  pennons  played; 
Tabour  and  drum  loud  music  made  ; 
Fresh  water  cooled  the  royal  road, 
And  flowers  in  bright  profusion  glowed. 
Glad  crowds  with  garlands  thronged  the 

ways 

Rejoicing  on  their  king  to  gaze 
And  all  the  town  was  bright  and  gay 
Exulting  in  the  festive  day. 
People  and  Brahmans  flocked  to  meet 
Their  monarch  ere  he  gained  the  street, 
The  glorious  king  amid  the  throng 
Rode  with  his  glorious  sons  along, 
And  passed  within  his  dear  abode 
That  like  Himalaya's  mountain  showed. 
And  there  Kausalya,  noble  queen, 
Sumitra  with  her  lovely  mien, 
Kaikeyi  of  the  dainty  waist, 
And  other  dames  his  bowers  who  graced, 
Stood  in  the  palace  side  by  side 
And  welcomed  home  each  youthful  bride: 
Fair  Sita,  lofty-fated  dame, 
Urmil£  of  the  glorious  fame, 
And  Kusadhwaja's  children  fair, 
With  joyous  greeting  and  with  prayer, 
As  all' in  linen  robes  arrayed 
With  offerings  at  the  altars  prayed. 
Due  reverence  paid  to  Gods  above, 
Each  princess  gave  her  soul  to  love, 
And  hidden  in  her  inmost  bower 
Passed  with  her  lord  each  blissful  hour. 
The  royal  youths,  of  spirit  high, 
With  whom  in  valour  none  could  vie, 


Lived  each  within  his  palace  bounds 
Bright  as  Kuvera's  pleasure-grounds, 
With  riches,  troops  of  faithful  friends, 
And  bliss  that  wedded  life  attend*  : 
Brave  princes,  trained  in  warlike  skill, 
A  nd  duteous  to  their  father's  will. 
At  length  the  monarch  called  one  morn 
Prince  Bharat,  of  Kaikeyi  born, 
And  cried  :  '  My  son,  within  our  gates 
Lord  Yudhajit  thine  uncle  waits. 
The  son  of  Kekaya's  king  is  he, 
And  came,  my  child,  to  summon  thee.1 
Then  Bharat  for  the  road  prepared, 
And  with  £atrughna  forth  he  fared. 
First  to  his  sire  he  bade  adieu, 
Brave  Rama,  and  his  mothers  too. 
Lord  Yudhajit  with  joyful  pride 
Went  forth,  the  brothers  by  his  side, 
And  reached  the  city  where  he  dwelt; 
And  mighty  joy  his  father  felt. 

R&ma  and  Lakshman  honoured  still 
Their  godlike  sire  with'duteous  will. 
Two  constant  guides  for  Rama  stood, 
His  father's  wish,  the  people's  good. 
Attentive  to  the  general  weal 
He  thought  and  wrought  to  please  and  heal. 
His  mothers  too  he  strove  to  please 
With  love  and  sonly  courtesies. 
At  every  time,  in  every  spot, 
His  holy  guides  he  ne'er  forgot. 
So  for  his  virtues  kind  and  true 
Dearer  and  dearer  Rama  grew  . 
To  Dasaratha,  Brahmans,  all 
In  town  and  country,  great  and  small. 
And  Rama  by  his  darling's  side 
Saw  many  a  blissful  season  glide, 
Lodged  in  her  soul,  each  thought  on  her, 
Lover,  and  friend,  and  worshipper. 
He  loved  her  for  his  father's  voice 
Had  given  her  and  approved  the  choice  : 
He  loved  her  for  each  charm  she  wore 
And  her  sweet  virtues  more  and  more, 
So  he  her  lord  and  second  life 
Dwelt  in  the  bosom  of  his  wife, 
In  double  form,  that,  e'en  apart, 
Each  heart  could  commune  free  with  heart. 

Still  grew  that  child  of  Janak's  race, 
More  goddess- fair  in  form  and  face, 
The  loveliest  wife  that  e'er  was  seen, 
In  mortal  mould  sweet  Beauty's  Queen. 
Then  shone  the  son  Kausalya  bore, 

With  this  bright  dame  allied, 
Like  Vishnu  whom  the  Gods  adore, 

With  La'kshmi  by  his  side. 


Canto  I. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


8t 


BOOK  II. 


CANTO  I. 


THE  HEIR  APPARENT. 

So  Bharat  to  his  grandsire  went 
Obedient  to  the  message  sent, 
And  for  his  fond  companion  chose 
Batrughna  slayer  of  his  foes.1 
There  Bharat  for  a  time  remained 
With  love  and  honour  entertained, 
King  Asvapati'i  constant  care, 
Beloved  as  a  son  and  heir. 
Yet  ever,  as  they  lived  at  ease, 
While  all  around  combined  to  please, 
The  aged  sire  they  left  behind 
Was  present  to  each  hero's  mind. 
Nor  could  the  king's  fond  memory  stray 
From  his  brave  children  far  away, 
Dear  Bharat  and  Batrughna  dear, 
Each  Varun's  match  or  Indra's  peer. 

To  all  the  princes,  young  and  brave, 
His  soul  with  fond  affection  clave  ; 
Around  his  loving  heart  they  clung 
Like  arms  from  his  own  body  sprung.2 
But  best  and  noblest  of  the  four, 
Good  as  the  God  whom  all  adore, 
Lord  of  all  virtues,  undefiled, 
His  darling  was  his  eldest  child. 
For  he  was  beautiful  and  strong, 
From  envy  free,  the  foe  of  wrong, 
With  all  his  father's  virtues  blest, 
And  peerless  in  the  world  confessed. 
With  placid  soul  he  softly  spoke  : 
No  harsh  reply  cauld  taunts  provoke. 
He  ever  loved  the  good  and  sage 
Revered  for  virtue  and  for  age, 
And  when  his  martial  tasks  were  o'er 
Sate  listening  to  their  peaceful  lore. 
Wise,  modest,  pure,  he  honoured  eld, 
His  lips  from  lying  tales  withheld  ; 
Due  reverence  to  the  Brahmans  gave, 
And  ruled  each  passion  like  a  slave. 
Most  tender,  prompt  at  duty's  call, 
Loved  by  all  men  he  loved  them  all. 
Proud  of  the  duties  of  his  race, 
With  spirit  meet  for  Warrior's  place, 
He  strove  to  win  by  glorious  deed, 
Throned  with  the  6ods,  a  priceless  meed. 


1  £atraghna  means  slayer  of  foes,  and  the 
word  is  repeated  as  an  intensive  epithet. 

*  Alluding  to  the  images  of  Vishnu, 
which  have  four  arms,  the  four  princes 
being  portions  of  the  substance  of  that  God, 


With  him  in  speech  and  quick  reply 

Vrihaspati  might  hardly  Tie, 

But  never  would  his  accents  flow 

For  evil  or  for  empty  show, 

In  art  and  science  duly  trained, 

His  student  vow  he  well  maintained ; 

He  learnt  the  lore  for  princes  fit, 

The  Vedas  and  their  Holy  Writ, 

And  with  his  well-drawn  bow  at  last 

His  mighty  father's  fame  surpassed. 

Of  birth  exalted,  truthful,  just, 

With  vigorous  hand,  with  noble  trust, 

Well  taught  by  aged  twice-born  men 

Who  gain  and  right  could  clearly  ken, 

Full  well  the  claims  and  bounds  he  knew 

Of  duty,  gain,  and  pleasure  too  : 

Of  memory  keen,  of  ready  tact, 

In  civil  business  prompt  to  act. 

Reserved,  his  features  ne'er  disclosed 

What  counsel  in  his  heart  reposed. 

All  idle  rage  and  mirth  controlled, 

He  knew  the  times  to  give  and  hold, 

Firm  in  his  faith,  of  steadfast  will, 

He  sought  no  wrong,  he  spoke  no  ill  : 

Not  rashly  swift,  not  idly  slow, 

His  faults  and  others'  keen  to  know. 

Each  merit,  by  his  subtle  sense  ; 

He  matched  with  proper  recompense. 

He  knew  the  means  that  wealth  provide. 

And  with  keen  eye  expense  could  guide. 

Wild  elephants  could  he  reclaim, 

And  mettled  steeds  could  mount  and  tame, 

No  arm  like  his  the  bow  could  wield, 

Or  drive  the  chariot  to  the  field. 

Skilled  to  attack,  to  deal  the  blow, 

Or  lead  a  host  against  the  foe  : 

Yea,  e'en  infuriate  Gods  would  fear 

To  meet  his  arm  in  full  career. 

As  the  great  sun  in  noontide  blaze 

Is  glorious  with  his  world  of  rays, 

So  Rama  with  these  virtues  shone 

Which  all  men  loved  to  gaze  upon. 

The  aged  monarch  fain  would  rest, 
And  said  within  his  weary  breast, 
'  Oh  that  I  might,  while  living  yet, 
My  Rama  o'er  the  kingdom  set. 
And  see,  before  my  course  be  run, 
The  hallowed  drops  anoint  my  son  ; 
See  all  this  spacious  land  obey, 
From  side  to  side,  my  first-born's  sway, 
And  then,  my  life  and  joy  complete, 
Obtain  in  heaven  a  blissful  seat ! ' 
In  him  the  monarch  saw  combined 
The  fairest  form,  the  noblest  mind, 
And  counselled  how  his  son  might  share. 
The  throne  with  him  as  Regent'  Heir. 
For  fearful  signs  in  earth  and  sky, 
And  weakness  warned  him  death  was  night 
But  Rama  to  the  world  endeared 
By  every  grace  his  bosain  cheered, 


90 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  IT. 


The  moon  of  every  eye,  whose  ray 
Drove  all  his  grief  and  fear  away. 
So  duty  urged  that  hour  to  seize, 
Himself,  his  realm,  to  bless  and  please. 
From  town  and  country,  far  and  near, 
He  summoned  people,  prince,  and  peer. 
To  each  he  gave  a  meet  abode, 
And  honoured  all  and  gifts  bestowed. 
Then,  splendid  in  his  king's  attire, 
}Ie  viewed  them,  as  the  general  Sire, 
In  glory  of  a  God  arrayed, 
Looks  on  the  creatures  he  has  made. 
But  Kekaya's  king  he  called  not  then 
For  haste,  nor  Janak,  lord  of  men  ; 
For  after  to  each  royal  friend 
The  joyful  tidings  he  would  send. 
Mid  crowds  from  distant  countries  met 
The  .king  upon  his  throne  was  set  ; 
Then  honoured  by  the  people,  all 
The  rulers  thronged  into  the  hall. 
On  thrones  assigned,  each  king  in  place 
Looked  silent  on  the  monarch's  face. 
Then  girt  by  lords  of  high  renown 
And  throngs  from  hamlet  and  from  town 

He  showed  in  regal  pride, 
As,  honoured  by  the  rediant  band 
Of  blessed  Gods  that  round  him  stand, 
Lord  Indra,  Thousand-eyed. 


CANTO  II. 


THE  PEOPLE'S  SPEECH. 

Then  to  the  full  assembly  bowed 
The  monarch,  and  addressed  the  crowd 
"With  gracious  speech,  in  accents  loud 
As  heavenly  drum  or  thunder- cloud : 

'  Needs  not  to  you  who  know  declare 
How  ever  with  paternal  care 
My  fathers  of  Ikshviiku's  line 
Have  ruled  the  realm  Avliich  now  is  mine. 
j  too  have  taught  my  feet  to  tread 
The  pathway  of  the  mighty  dead, 
And  with  fond  care  that  never  slept 
Have,  as  I  could,  my  people  kept. 
So  toiling  still,  and  ne'er  remiss 
For  all  my  people's  wenl  and  bliss, 
Heneath  the  white  umbrella's1  shade, 
Old  age  is  come  and  strength  decayed. 
Thousands  of  yoars  have  o'er  me  rlown, 
And  generations  round  me  grown 
And  passed  away.    1  crave  at  length 
Repose  and  ease  for  broken  strength, 
Feeble  and  worn  I  scarce  can  bear 
The  ruler's  toil,  the  judge's  care, 
With  royal  dignity,  a  weight 
That  tries  the  young  and  temperate. 


»  Chief  of  tho  insignia  of  imperial  dignity 


I  long  to  re-t,  my  labour  done, 
And  in  my  place  to  set  my  son, 
If  to  the  twice- born  gathered  here 
My  counsel  wise  and  good  appear. 
For  greater  gifts  than  mine  adorn 
Kama  my  son,  my  eldest-born. 
Like  Indra  brave,  before  him  fall 
The  foeman's  cities,  tower  and  wall. 
Him  prince  of  men  for  power  and  might, 
The  best  maintainer  of  the  right, 
Fair  as  the  moon  when  nothing  bars 
His  glory  close  to  Pushya's  stnrs, 
Him  with  to-morrow's  light  I  fain 
Would  throne  the  consort  of  my  reign. 
A  worthy  lord  for  you,  I  ween, 
Marked  as  her  own  by  Fortune's  Queen. 
The  triple  world  itself  would  be 
Well  ruled  by  such  a  king  as  he. 
To  such  high  bliss  and  happy  fate 
Will  I  the  country  dedicate, 
And  my  sad  heart  will  cease  to  grieve 
If  he  the  precious  charge  receive. 
Thus  is  my  careful  plan  matured, 
Thus  for  myself  is  rest  secured  ; 
Lieges,  approve  the  words  1  say, 
Or  point  ye  out  some  wiser  way. 
Devise  your  prudent  plan.    My  mind 
Is  fondly  to  this  thought  inclined, 
But  men  by  keen  debating  move 
Some  middle  course  which  all  approve.' 

The  monarch  ceased.     In  answer  came 
The  joyous  princes'  glad  acclaim. 
So  peacocks  in  the  rain  rejoice 
And  hail  the  cloud  with  lifted  voice. 
Murmurs  of  joy  from  thousands  round 
Shook  the  high  palace  with  the  sound. 
Then  when  the  gathered  throng  had  lea rn^q 
His  will  who  right  and  gain  discerned, 
Peasant  and  townsman,  priest  and  chief, 
All  met  in  consultation  brief, 
And  soon  agreed  with  one  accord 
Gave  answer  to  their  sovereign  lord  : 
'  King  of  the  land,  we  know  thee  old  : 
Thousands  of  years  have  o'er  thee  rolled, 
llama  thy  son,  we  pray,  anoint, 
And  at  thy  side  his  place  appoint. 
Our  gallant  prince,  so  brave  and  strong, 
Riding  in  royal  state  along, 
Our  eyes  with  joyful  pride  will  see 
Screened  by  the  shade  that  shelters  thee.' 
Then  spoke  the  king  a^ain,  as  though 
Their  hearts'  true  wish  he  sought  to  know : 
'These  prayers  for  llama's  rule  suggest 
One  question  to  my  doubting  breast. 
This  tiling,  I  pray,  with  truth  explain: 
Why  would  ye,  while  I  justly  reign, 
That  he,  mine  eldest  son,  should  bear 
His  part  with  me  as  ruling  heir?' 
Then  all  the  people  made  reply, 
Peasant  and  townsman,  low  and  high  : 
4  Each  noblest  gift  of  form  and  niind, 


Canto  fit 


TUB  RAMAYAN. 


O  Monarch,  in  thy  son  we  find. 
Do  thou  the  godlike  virtues  hear 
Which  Rama  to  our  hearts  endear. 
So  richly  blest  with  graces,  none 
In  all  the  earth  excels  thy  son  : 
Nay,  who  to  match  with  him  may  claim 
In  truth,  in  justice,  and  in  fame? 
True  to  his  promise,  gentle,  kind, 
Unenvious,  of  grateful  mind, 
Versed  in  the  law  and  firm  of  soul, 
He  keeps  each  sense  with  strict  control, 
With  duteous  care  he  loves  to  sit 
By  Hrrihmaiis  skilled  in  Holy  Writ. 
Hence  brightest  glory,  ne'er  to  end, 
And  matchless  fame  his  youtli  attend. 
Skilled  in  the  use  of  spear  and  shield. 
And  arms  which  heavenly  warriors  wield, 
Supreme  in  war,  unconqiiered  yet 
By  man,  fiend,  God  in  battle  met, 
Whene'er  in  pomp  of  war  he  goes 
'Gainst  town  or  city  of  the  foes, 
He  ever  comes  with  Lakshman  back 
Victorious  from  the  fierce  attack, 
Returning  homeward  from  afar 
Borne  on  his  elephant  or  car, 
He  ever  to  the  townsmen  bends 
And  greets  them  as  beloved  friends, 
Asks  how  each  son,  each  servant  thrives, 
How  fare  our  pupils,  offerings,  wives  ; 
And  like  a  father  bids  us  tell, 
Each  for  himself,  that  all  is  well. 
If  pain  or  grief  the  city  tries 
His  heart  is  swift  to  sympathize. 
When  festive  scenes  our  thoughts  employ 
He  like  a  father  shares  the  jov. 
High  is  the  fate,  O  King,  that  gave 
Thy  Kama  born  to  bless  and  save, 
With  filial  virtues  fair  and  mild 
Like  Kasyap  old  Marichi's  child. 
Hence  to  the  kingdom's  distant  ends 
One  general  prayer  for  him  ascends. 
Each  man  in  town  and  country  prays 
For  Kama's  strength, health.length  of  days. 
With  hearts  sincere,  their  wish  the  same, 
The  tender  girl,  the  aged  dame, 
Subject  and  stranger,  peasant,  hind, 
One  thought  impressed  on  every  miiid, 
At  evening  and  at  dawning  day 
To  all  the  Gods  for  Kama  pray. 
Do  thou,  O  King,  of  grace  comply, 
And  hear  the  people's  longing  cry. 
And  let  us  on  the  throne  by  thee 
The  lotus-tinted  Rama  see. 

O  thou  who  givest  boons,  attend  ; 
A  gracious  ear,  O  Monarch,  lend 

And  for  our  weal  install, 
Consenting  to  our  earnest  prayer, 
Thy  godlike  Rama  Regent  Heir, 
Who  seeks  the  good  of  all.' 


CANTO  III. 

DA&ARATHA'S  PRECEPTS. 

The  monarch  with  the  prayer  complied 
Of  suppliant  hands,  on  every  side 
Uplifted  like  a  lotus -bed  : 
And  then  these  gracious  words  he  said  : 
*  Great  joy  and  mighty  fame  are  mine 
Because  your  loving  hearts  incline, 
In  full  assembly  clearly  shown 
To  place  my^  Rama  on  the  throne.' 
Then  to  Vaaishtha,  standing  near, 
And  Vamadeva  loud  and  clear 
The  monarch  spoke  that  all  might  hear  • 
'  "Tis  pure  and  lovely  Chaitra  now 
When  flowers  are  sweet  on  every  bough, 
All  needful  things  with  haste  prepare 
That  Rama  be  appointed  heir.' 

Then  burst  the  people's  rapture  out 
In  loud  acclaim  and  joyful  shout- 
And  when  the  tumult  slowly  ceased 
The  king  addressed  the  holy  priest  : 
'Give  order,  Saint,  with  watchful  heed 
lor  what  the  coming  rite  will  need. 
This  day  let  all  things  ready  wait 
Mine  eldest  son  to  consecrate.' 
Best  of  all  men  of  second  birth 
VasjfihtJha  heard  the  lord  of  earth, 
And  gave  commandment  to  the  bands 
Of  servitors  with  lifted  hands 
Who  waited  on  their  master's  eye : 
'Now  by  to-morrow's  dawn  supply 
Rich  gold  and  herbs  and  gems  of  price 
And  offerings  for  the  sacrifice, 
Wreaths  of  white  flowers  and  roasted  rice, 
Ana  oil  and  honey,  separate ; 
New  garments  and  a  car  of  state, 
An  elephant  with  lucky  signs 
A  fourfold  host  in  ordered  lines, 
The  white  umbrella,  and  a  pair 
Of  chowries,1  and  a  banner  fair  • 
A  hundred  vases,  row  on  row, 
To  shine  like  fire  in  splendid  glow, 
A  tiger  3  mighty  skin,  a  bull 
With  gilded  hol-ns  most  beautiful. 
All  these,  at  dawn  of  coming  day, 
Around  the  royal  shrine  array, 
Where  burns  the  fire's  undying  ray. 
liach  palace  door,  each  city  gate 
With  wreaths  of  sandal  decorate, 
And  \fith  the  garlands'  fragrant  soenf) 
bet  clouds  of  incense-smoke  be  blent. 
;.et  food  of  noble  kind  and  taste 
.te  for  a  hundred  thousand  placed; 
fresh  curds  with  streams  of  milk  bedewed 
lo  feed  the  Brahman  multitude. 


1  Whisks,  usually  made  of  the  loug  tails 
>f  the  Yak, 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  //. 


With  care  be  all  their  wants  supplied, 
And  mid  the  twice-born  chiefs  divide 
Rich  largess,  with  the  early  morn, 
And  oil  and  curds  and  roasted  corn. 
Soon  as  the  sun  has  shown  his  light 
Pronounce  the  prayer  to  bless  the  rite, 
And  then  be  all  the  Brahmans  called 
And  in  their  ordered  seats  installed. 
Let  all  musicians  skilled  to  play, 
And  dancing-girls  in  bright  array 
Stand  ready  in  the  second  ring 
Within  the  palace  of  the  king. 
Each  honoured  tree,  each  holy  shrine 
With  leaves  and  flowery  wreaths  entwine, 
And  here  and  there  beneath  the  shade 
Be  food  prepared  and  presents  laid. 
Then  brightly  clad,  in  warlike  guise, 
With  long  swords  girt  upon  their  thighs, 
Let  soldiers  of  the  nobler  sort 
March  to  the  monarch's  splendid  court.' 

Thus  gave  command  the  twice-born  pair 
To  active  servants  stationed  there. 
Then  hastened  to  the  king  and  said 
That  all  their  task  was  duly  sped. 
The  king  to  wise  Sumantra  spake : 
*  Now  quick,  my  lord,  thy  chariot  take, 
And  hither  with  thy  swiftest  speed 
My  son,  my  noble  Rama  lead.' 

Sumantra.  ere  the  word  was  given, 
His  chariot  from  the  court  had  driven, 
And  Rama,  best  of  all  who  ride 
In  cars,  came  sitting  by  his  side. 
The  lords  of  men  had  hastened  forth 
From  east  and  west  and  south  and  north, 
Aryan  and  stranger,  those  who  dwell 
In  the  wild  wood  and  on  the  fell, 
And  as  the  Gods  to  Indra,  they 
Showed  honour  to  the  king  that  day. 
Like  V6sav,  when  his  glorious  form 
Is  circled  by  the  Gods  of  storm, 
Girt  in  his  hall  by  kings  he  saw 
His  car-borne  Rama  near  him  draw, 
Like  him  who  rules  the  minstrel  band 
Of  heaven  j1  whose  valour  filled  the  land, 
Of  mighty  arm  and  stately  pride 
Like  a  wild  elephant  in  stride, 
As  fair  in  face  as  that  fair  stone 
Dear  to  the  moon,  of  moonbeams  grown,1 
With  noble  gifts  and  grace  that  took 
The  hearts  of  all,  and  chained  each  look, 
World-cheering  as  the  Lord  of  Rain 
When  floods  relieve  the  parching  plain. 
The  father,  as  the  son  came  nigh, 
Gazed  with  an  ever-thirstier  eye. 
Sumantra  helped  the  prince  alight 


1  Chitraratha,  King  of  the  Gandharvas. 

*  The  Chandrakanta  or  Moonstone,  a 
gort  of  crystal  supposed  to  be  composed 
of  congealed  moonbeams, 


From  the  good  chariot  passing  bright, 
And  as  to  meet  his  sire  he  went 
Followed  behind  him  reverent. 
Then  R&ma  clomb,  the  king  to  seek, 
That  terrace  like  Kailasa's  peak, 
And  reached  the  presence  of  the  king, 
Sumantra  closely  following. 
Before  his  father's  face  he  came, 
Raised  suppliant  hands  and  named  his 

name,1 

And  bowing  lowly  as  is  meet 
Paid  reverence  to  the  monarch's  feet. 
But  soon  as  Dasaratha  viewed 
The  prince  in  humble  attitude, 
He  raised  him  by  the  hand  in  haste 
And  his  beloved  son  embraced, 
Then  signed  him  to  a  glorious  throne, 
Gem-decked  and  golden,  near  his  own. 
Then  Rama,  best  of  Raghu's  line, 
Made  the  fair  seat  with  lustre  shine, 
As  when  the  orient  sun  upsprings 
And  his  pure  beam  on  Meru  flings. 
The  glory  flashed  on  roof  and  wall, 
And  with  strange  sheen  suffused  the  hall, 
As  when  the  moon's  pure  rays  are  sent 
Through  autumn's  star-lit  firmament. 
Then  swelled  his  breast  with  joy  and  pride 
As  his  dear  son  the  father  eyed, 
E'en  as  himeself  more  fair  arrayed 
In  some  clear  mirror's  face  displayed. 
The  aged  monarch  gazed  awhile, 
Then  thus  addressed  him  with  a  smile, 
As  Kasyap,  whom  the  worlds  revere, 
Speaks  for  the  Lord  of  Gods  to  hear  : 
'  O  thou  of  all  my  sons  most  dear, 
In  virtue  best,  thy  father's  peer, 
Child  of  my  consort  first  in  place, 
Mine  equal  in  her  pride  of  race, 
Because  the  people's  hearts  are  bound 
To  thee  by  graces  in  thee  found, 
Be  thou  in  Pushya's  favouring  hour 
Made  partner  of  my  royal  power. 
I  know  that  thou  by  nature's  bent 
Both  modest  art  and  excellent, 
But  though  thy  gifts  no  counsel  need 
My  love  suggests  the  friendly  rede. 
Mine  own  dear  son,  be  modest  still, 
And  rule  each  sense  with  earnest  will. 
Keep  thou  the  evils  far  away 
That  spring  from  love  and  anger's  sway. 
Thy  noble  course  alike  pursue 
In  secret  as  in  open  view, 
And  every  nerve,  the  love  to  gain 
Of  ministers  and  subjects,  strain. 
The  happy  prince  who  sees  with  pride 
TTis  thriving  people  satisfied  ; 
Whose  arsenals  with  arms  are  stored, 
And  treasury  with  golden  hoard, — 

1  A  customary  mark  of   respect  to  a 
superior. 


Canto  IV. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


His  friends  rejoice  as  joyed  the  Blest 
When  Amrit  crowned  their  eager  quest. 
So  well,  my  child,  thy  course  maintain, 
And  from  all  ill  thy  soul  refrain.' 

The  friends  of  Rama,  gathered  nigh, 
Longing  their  lord  to  gratify, 
Ran  to  Kausalya's  bower  to  tell 
The  tidings  that  would  please  her  well. 
She,  best  of  dames,  with  many  a  gem, 
And  gold,  and  kine  rewarded  them. 

Then  Rama  paid  the  reverence  due, 
Mounted  the  cnariot,  and  withdrew, 
And  to  his  splendid  dwelling  drove 
While  crowds  to  show  him  honour  strove. 

The  people,  when  the  monarch's  speed; 
Their  willing  ears  had  heard, 

Were  wild  with  joy  as  though  on  each 
Great  gifts  had  been  conferred. 

With  meek  and  low  salute  each  man 
Turned  to  his  home  away, 

And  there  with  happy  heart  began 
To  all  the  Gods  to  pray. 

CANTO  IV. 
R£MA  SUMMONED. 

The  crowd  dismissed,  to  high  debate 
The  monarch  called  his  peers  of  state, 
And,  counsel  from  their  lips  obtained, 
Firm  in  his  will  his  will  explained: 
'  1'o-m  »rrow  with  auspicious  ray 
The  moon  in  Pushya's  sign  will  stay  ; 
Be  that  the  time  with  happy  fate 
Mine  eldest  son  to  consecrate, 
And  let  my  Rama,  lotus-eyed, 
As  Regent  o'er  the  state  preside.' 

He  sought,  within,  his  charioteer, 
And  cried  *  Again  bring  Rama  here,1 
To  Rama's  home  Sumantra  hied 
Again  to  be  the  prince's  guide. 
His  coming,  told  to  Rama's  ear, 
Suggested  anxious  doubt  and  fear. 
He  bade  the  messenger  be  led 
That  instant  in,  arid  thus  he  said  : 
1  Tell  me  the  cause,  omitting  naught, 
Why  thou  again  my  house  hast  sought.' 

The  envoy  answered  :  *  Prince,  thy  sire 
Has  sent  thy  presence  to  require. 
My  sender  known,  'tis  thine  to  say 
If  thou  wilt  go  or  answer  nay.' 
Then  Rama,  when  he  heard  his  speech, 
Made  haste  the  royal  court  to  reach. 
Soon  as  the  monarch  was  aware 
His  dearest  son  was  waiting  there, 
Eager  the  parley  to  begin 
He  bade  them  lead  the  prince  within. 
Soon  as  he  passed  the  chamber  door 
The  hero  bent  him  to  the  floor, 


And  at  a  distance  from  his  seat 
Raised  his  joined  hands  his  sire  to  greet. 
The  monarch  raised  him  from  the  ground, 
And  loving  arms  about  him  wound, 
Then  pointed  to  a  seal:  that  shone 
With  gold  for  him  to  rest  upon. 
'Aged  am  I,'  he  said,  *  and  worn ; 
In  life's  best  joys  my  share  have  borne  ; 
Rites  to  the  Gods,  in  hundreds,  paid, 
With  gifts  of  corn  and  largess  made. 
I  yearned  for  sons  :  my  life  is  blest 
With  them  and  thee  of  sons  the  best. 
No  debt  to  saints  or  Brahamans,  no, 
Nor  spirits,  Gods,  or  self  I  owe. 
One  duty  now  remains  alone, 
To  set  thee  on  thy  father's  throne. 
Now  therefore,  Rama,  hear  my  rede, 
And  mark  my  words  with  duteous  heed  : 
This  day  the  peoples'  general  voice. 
Elects  thee  king  of  love  and  choice, 
And  1,  consenting  to  the  prayer, 
Will  make  thee,  darling,  Regent  Heir. 
Dread  visions,  each  returning  night, 
With  evil  omens  scare  my  sight. 
Red  meteors  with  a  fearful  sound 
tshoot  wildly  downward  to  the  ground, 
While  tempests  lash  the  troubled  air  ; 
And  they  who  read  the  stars  declare 
That,  leagued  against  my  natal  sign, 
Rahu,1  the  Sun,1  and  Mars  combine. 
When  portents  dire  as  these  appear, 
A  monarch's  death  or  woe  is  near. 
Then  while  my  senses  yet  are  spared, 
And  thought  and  will  are  unimpaired, 
Be  thou,  my  son,  anointed  king  : 
Men's  fancy  is  a  fickle  thing. 
To-day  the  moon,  in  order  due, 
Entered  the  sign  Punarvasu,3 
To-morrow,  as  the  wise  foretell, 
In  Pushya's  favouring  stars  will  dwell  : 
Then  on  the  throne  shalt  thou  be  placed  : 
My  soul,  prophetic,  counsels  haste  : 
Thee,  O  my  son,  to-morrow  I 
As  Regent  Heir  will  sanctify. 
So  till  the  coming  night  be  passed 
Do  thou  and  Sita  strictly  fast  : 
From  worldly  thoughts  thy  soul  refrain, 
And  couched  on  holy  grass  remain. 


1  Rahu,  the  ascending  node,  is  in  my- 
thology a  demon  with  the  tail  of  a  dragon 
whose  head  was  severed  from  his  body 
by  Vishnu,  but  being  immortal,   the  head 
and  tail  retained  their  separate  existence 
and  being  transferred  to  the  stellar  sphere 
became  the  authors  of  eclipses  ;  the  first 
especially  by  endeavouring  to  swallow  the 
gun  and  moon. 

2  In  eclipse. 

3  The  seventh  of  the  lunar  asterisms.    . 


THE 


Zook  11. 


And  let  thy  trusted  lords  attend 
In  careful  watch  upon  their  friend. 
For,  unexpected,  check  and  bar 
Our  weightiest  counsels  often  mar. 
While  Bharat  too  is  far  away 
Making  with  royal  kin  his  stay, 
]  deem  the  fittest  time  of  all 
Thee,  chosen  Regent,  to  install. 
Jt  may  be  Bharat  still  has  t-tood 
True  to  the  counsels  of  the  good, 
Faithful  to  thee  with  tender  trust, 
With  governed  senses,  pure  and  just. 
But  human  minds,  too  well  I  know, 
Will  sudden  changes  undergo, 
And  by  their  constant  deeds  alone 
The  virtue  of  the  good  is  shown. 
!Now,  Rama,  go.    My  son,  good  night! 
Fixt  is  to-morrow  for  the  rite.' 

Then  Rama  paid  the  reverence  due, 
And  quickly  to  his  home  withdrew. 
He  passed  within,  nor  lingered  there, 
But  sought  his  mother's  mansion,  where 
The  dame  in  linen  robes  arrayed 
Devoutly  in  the  chapel  prayed 
To  Fortune'sQueen,with  utterance  checked, 
That  she  her  Rama  would  protect. 
There  was  Sumitra  too,  and  there 
Was  Lakshman  led  by  loving  care  : 
And  when  the  royal  choice  they  knew 
Sita  in  haste  was  summoned  too. 
Absorbed,  with  half-shut  eyes,  the  queen 
Attended  by  the  three  was  seen. 
She  knew  that  Pushy a's  lucky  hour 
Would  raise  her  son  to  royal  power, 
So  fixed  with  bated  breath  each  thought 
On  God  supreme,  by  all  men  sought. 
To  her,  as  thus  she  knelt  and  prayed, 
Rama  drew  near,  due  reverence  paid, 
And  then  to  swell  his  mother's  joy, 
Thus  spoke  her  own  beloved  boy  : 
'  O  mother  dear,  my  sire's  decree 
Entrusts  the  people's  weal  to  me. 
To-morrow  I,  for  so  his  will, 
Anointed  king,  the  throne  shall  fill. 
The  few  last  hours  till  night  shall  end 
Sita  with  me  must  fasting  spend, 
For  so  my  father  has  decreed, 
And  holy  priests  with  him  agreed. 
What  vows  soever  thou  mayst  deem 
My  consecration's  eve  beseem, 
Do  thou,  sweet  mother,  for  my  sake 
And  for  beloved  Sita's  make.' 

When  the  glad  news  Kausalya  heard, 
So  long  desired,  so  long  deferred, 
While  tears  of  joy  her  utterance  broke, 
In  answer  to  her  son  she  spoke : 
•  Long  be  thy  life,  my  darling:  now 
Thy  prostrate  foes  before  thee  bow. 
Live  long  arid  with  thy  bright  success 
My  friends  and  dear  Sumitra/s  bless. 


Surely  the  stars  were  wondrous  fair 
When  thee,  sweet  son,  thy  mother  bare, 
That  thy  good  gifts  such  love  inspire 
And  win  the  favour  of  thy  sire. 
With  thee  I  travailed  riot  in  vain  ; 
Those  lotus  eyes  reward  my  pain, 
And  all  the  glory  of  the  line 
Of  old  Ikshvaku  will  be  thine.' 

He  smiled,  and  on  his  brother  gazed 
Who  sate  with  reverent  hands  upraised, 
And  said :  '  My  brother,  thou  must  be 
Joint-ruler  of  this  land  with  me. 
My  second  self  thou,  Lakshman,  art, 
And  in  ray  fortune  bearest  part. 
Be  thine,  Sumitra's  son,  to  know 
The  joys  from  regal  power  that  flow. 
My  life  itself  the  monarch's  seat, 
For  thy  dear  sake  to  me  are  sweet.' 

Thus  Rama  to  his  brother  said, 
To  both  his  mothers1  bowed  his  head, 
And  then  with  Sita  by  his  side 
To  his  own  house  the  hero  hied. 


CANTO  V. 


KAMA'S  FAST. 

Then  Saint  Vasishtha  to  the  king 

Came  ready  at  his  summoning. 

'  Now  go,'  exclaimed  the  monarch,  thou 

Enriched  by  fervent  rite  and  vow, 

For  Rama  and  his  wife  ordain 

The  fast,  that  joy  may  bless  his  reign.' 

The  best  of  those  who  Scripture  know 
Said  to  the  king,  '  My  lord,  I  go.' 
To  Rama's  house  Vasishtha  hied, 
The  hero's  fast  by  rule  to  guide, 
And  skilled  in  sacred  texts  to  tell 
Each  step  to  him  instructed  well. 
Straight  to  Prince  Rama's  high  abode, 
That  like  a  cloud  pale-tinted  showed, 
Borne  in  his  priestly  car  he  rode. 
Two  courts  he  passed,  and  in  the  third 
He  stayed  his  car.    Then  Rama  heard 
The  holy  sage  was  come,  and  flew 
To  honour  him  with  honour  due. 
He  hastened  to  the  car  and  lent 
His  hand  to  aid  the  priest's  descent. 
Then  spoke  Vasishtha  words  like  these, 
Pleased  with  his  reverent  courtesies, 
With  pleasant  things  his  heart  to  cheer 
Who  best  deserved  glad  news  to  hear : 
'  Prince,  thou  hast  won  thy  fathers  grace, 
And  thine  will  be  the  Regent's  place: 
Now  with  thy  Sita,  as  is  right, 
In  strictest  fasting  spend  the  night, 

-     l  Kausalya.  and  Sumitra. 


Canto  VI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


95 


For  when  the  morrow's  dawn  is  fair 
The  king  will  consecrate  his  heir: 
So  Nahush,1  as  the  wise  relate, 
Yayati  j<  yed  to  consecrate.' 

Thus  having  said,  Vasishtha  next 
Ordained  the  fast  by  rule  and  text, 
For  Kama  faithful  to  his  vows 
And  the  Videhan  dame  his  spouse. 
Then  from  the  prince's  house  he  hied 
With  courteous  honours  gratified. 
Bound  Rama  gathered  every  friend 
In  pleasant  talk  a  while  to  spend. 
He  bade  good  night  to  all  at  last, 
And  to  his  inner  chamber  passed. 
Then  Rama's  house  shone  bright  and  gay 
With  men  and  maids  in  glad  array, 
As  in  the  morning  some  fair  lake 
When  all  her  lotuses  awake, 
And  every  bird  that  loves  the  flood 
Flits  joyous  round  each  opening  bud. 

Forth  from  the  house  Vasishtha  drove, 
That  with  the  king's  in  splendour  strove, 
And  all  the  royal  street  he  viewed 
Filled  with  a  mighty  multitude 
Tiie  eager  concourse  blocked  each  square, 
Each  road  and  lane  and  thoroughfare, 
And  joyous  shouts  on  every  side 
Rose  like  the  roar  of  Ocean's  tide, 
As  streams  of  men  together  came 
With  loud  huzza  and  glad  acclaim. 
The  ways  were  watered,  swept  and  clean, 
And  decked  with  flowers  and  garlands  green 
And  all  Ayodhya  shone  arrayed 
With  banners  on  the  roofs  that  played. 
Men,  women,  boys  with  eager  eyes, 
Expecting  when  the  sun  should  rise, 
Stood  longing  for  the  herald  ray 
Of  Rama's  consecration-day, 
To  see,  a  source  of  joy  to  all, 
The  people-honoured  festival. 

The  priest  advancing  slowly  through 
The  mighty  crowd  he  cleft  in  two, 
Near  to  the  monarch's  palace  drew. 
He  sought  the  terrace,  by  the  stair, 
Like  a  white  cloud -peak  high  in  air, 
The  reverend  king  of  men  to  meet 
Who  sate  upon  his  splendid  seat: 
Thus  will  Vrihaspati  arise 
To  meet  the  monarch  of  the  skies. 
But  when  the  king  his  coming  knew, 
He  left  his  throne  and  near  him  drew. 
Questioned  by  him  Vasishtha  said 
That  all  his  task  was  duly  sped. 
Then  all  who  sate  there,  honouring 
Vasishtha,  rose  as  rose  the  king. 
Vasishtha  bade  his  lord  adieu, 
And  all  the  peers,  dismissed,  withdrew. 


1  A  king  of  the  Lunar  race,  and  father 
of  Yayati. 


Then  as  a  royal  lion  geeks 
His  cave  beneath  the  rocky  peaks, 
So  to  the  chambers  where  abode 
blis  consorts  Dasaratha  strode. 
Full-thronged    were    those    delightful 

bowers 

With  women  richly  dressed, 
And  splendid  as  the  radiant  towers 

Where  Indra  loves  to  rest. 
Then  brighter  flashed  a  thousand  eyes 

With  the  light  his  presence  lent, 
As,  when  the  moon  begins  to  rise, 
The  star  thronged  firmament, 

CANTO  VI. 


THE  CITY  PECORATED. 

Then  Rama  bathed  in  order  due, 
His  mind  from  worldly  thoughts  withdrew, 
And  with  his  large-eyed  wife  besought 
Narayan,  as  a  votary  ought. 
Upon  his  head  the  brimming  cup 
Of  holy  oil  he  lifted  up, 
Then  placed  within  the  kindled  fire 
The  offering  to  that  heavenly  Sire, 
And  as  he  sipped  the  remnant  prayed 
To  Him  for  blessing  and  for  aid. 
Then  with  still  lips  and  tranquil  mind 
With  his  Videhan  he  reclined, 
In  Vishnu's  chapel,  on  a  bed 
Where  holy  grass  was  duly  spread, 
While  still  the  prince's  every  thought 
The  God  supreme,  Narayan,  sought. 
One  watch  remained  the  night  to  close 
When  Rama  from  his  couch  arose, 
And  bade  the  men  and  maids  adorn 
His  palace  for  the  solemn  morn. 
He  heard  the  bards  and  heralds  raise 
Auspicious  strains  of  joy  and  praise  ; 
And  breathed  devout,  w  ith  voice  restrained, 
The  hymn  for  morning  rites  ordained  ; 
Then,  with  his  head  in  reverence  bowed, 
Praised  Madhu's  conquering  foe  aloud. 
And,  in  pure  linen  robes  arrayed, 
The  priests  to  raise  their  voices  prayed. 
Obedient  to  the  summons  they 
Proclaimed  to  all  the  festal  day. 
The  Brahmans'  voices,  deep  and  sweet, 
Resounded  through  the  crowded  street, 
And  echoed  through  Ayodhya  went 
By  many  a  loud-toned  instrument. 
Then  all  the  people  joyed  to  hear 
That  Kama  with  his  consort  dear 
Had  fasted  till  the  morning  light 
In  preparation  for  the  rite. 
Swiftly  the  joyful  tidings  through 
Ayodhya's  crowded  city  flew, 
And  soon  as  dawn  appeared,  each  man 
To  decorate  the  town  began, 


TUE  RAMAYAN. 


n. 


In  all  the  temples  bright  and  fair 
As  white  clouds  towering  in  the  air, 
In  streets,  and  where  the  cross- ways  met, 
Where  holy  fig-trees  had  been  set, 
In  open  square,  in  sacred  shade, 
Where  merchants'  shops  their  wealth  dis- 
played, 

On  all  the  mansions  of  the  great, 
And  householders  of  wealth  and  state, 
Where'er  the  people  loved  to  meet, 
Where'er  a  tree  adorned  the  street, 
Gay  banners  floated  to  the  wind, 
And  ribands  round  the  staves  were  twined. 
Then  clear  the  singers'  voices  rang, 
As,  charming  mind  and  ear,  they  sang. 
Here  players  shone  in  bright  attire, 
There  dancing  women  swelled  the  quire. 
Each  with  his  friend  had  much  to  say 
Of  Rama's  consecration-day ; 
Yea,  even  children,  as  they  played 
At  cottage  doors  beneath  the  shade. 
The  royal  street  with  flowers  was  strown 
Which  loving  hands  in  heaps  had  thrown, 
And  here  and  there  rich  incense  lent 
Its  f  ragrancejto  the  garland's  scent ; 
And  all  was  fresh  and  fair  and  bright 
In  honour  of  the  coming  rite. 
With  careful  foresight  to  illume 
With  borrowed  blaze  the  midnight  gloom, 
The  crowds  erected  here  and  there 
Trees  in  each  street  gay  lamps  to  bear. 
The  city  thus  from  side  to  side 
In  festal  guise  was  beautified. 
The  people  of  the  town  who  longed 
To  view  the  rite  together  thronged, 
And  filling  every  court  and  square 
Praised  the  good  king  in  converse  there : 
*  Our  high-souled  king  !  He  throws  a  grace 
On  old  Ikshvaku's  royal  race. 
He  feels  his  years'  increasing  weight, 
And  makes  his  son  associate. 
Great  joy  to  us  the  choice  will  bring 
Of  Rama  for  our  lord  and  king. 
The  good  and  bad  to  him  are  known, 
And  long  will  he  protect  his  own. 
No  pride  his  prudent  breast  may  swell, 
Most  just,  he  loves  his  brothers  well, 
And  to  us  all  that  love  extends, 
Cherished  as  brothers  and  as  friends. 
Long  may  our  lord  in  life  remain, 
Good  Dasaratha,  free  from  stain, 
By  whose  most  gracious  favour  we 
Kama  anointed  king  shall  see.' 

Such  were  the  words  the  townsmen  spoke 
Heard  by  the  gathering  countryfolk, 
Who  from  the  south,  north,  east,  and  west, 
Stirred  bv  the  joyful  tidings,  pressed. 
For  by  their  eager  longing  led 
To  Rama's  consecration  sped 
The  villagers  from  every  side, 
And  filled  Ayodhya;s  city  wide. 


This  way  and  that  way  strayed  the  crowd, 
While  rose  a  murmur  long  and  loud, 
As  when  the  full  moon  floods  the  skies 
And  Ocean's  waves  with  thunder  rise. 
That  town,  like  Indra's  city  fair, 

While  peasants  thronged  her  ways, 
Tumultuous  roared  like  Ocean,  where 
Each  flood-born  monster  plays, 

CANTO  VII. 
MANTHARAS    LAMENT. 

It  chanced  a  slave-born  handmaid,  bred 
With  Queen  Kaikey!,  fancy-led, 
Mounted  the  stair  and  stood  upon 
The  terrace  like  the  moon  that  shone. 
Thence  Manthara  at  ease  surveyed 
Ayodhya  to  her  eyes  displayed, 
Where  water  cooled  the  royal  street, 
Where  heaps  of  flowers  were  fresh  and 

sweet, 

And  costly  flags  and  pennons  hung 
On  roof  and  tower  their  shadow  flung  ; 
With  covered  ways  prepared  in  haste, 
And  many  an  awning  newly  placed  ; 
With  sandal-scented  streams  bedewed, 
Thronged  by  a  new  bathed  multitude  : 
Whose  streets  were  full  of  Brahman  bands 
With   wreaths   and  sweetmeats   in   their 

hands. 

Loud  instruments  their  music  raised, 
And  through  the  town,  where'er  she  gazed, 
The  doors  of  temples  glittered  white, 
And  the  maid  marvelled  at  the  sight. 

Of  Rama's  nurse  who,  standing  by, 
Gazed  with  a  joy-expanded  eye, 
In  robes  of  purest  white  attired, 
The  wondering  damsel  thus  inquired  : 

*  Does  Rama's  mother  give  away 
Rich  largess  to  the  crowds  to-day, 
On  some  dear  object  fondly  bent, 
Or  blest  with  measureless  content  ? 
What  mean  these  signs  of  rare  delight 
On  every  side  that  meet  my  sight  ? 
Say,  will  the  king  with  joy  elate 
Some  happy  triumph  celebrate  ?' 

The  nurse,  with  transport  uncontrolled, 
Her  glad  tale  to  the  hump-back  told  : 
*  Our  lord  the  king  to-morrow  morn 
Will  consecrate  his  eldest-born, 
And  raise,  in  Pushya's  favouring  hour, 
Prince  Rama  to  the  royal  power.' 
As  thus  the  nurse  her  tidings  spoke, 
Rage  in  the  hump-back's  breast  awoke. 
Down  from  the  terrace,  like  the  head 
Of  high  Kailasa's  hill,  she  sped. 
Sin  in  her  thoughts,  her  soul  aflame, 
Where  Queen  Kaikeyi  slept,  she  came  : 


Canto  VIII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


97 


'  Why  sleepest  thou  ?  *  she  cried,  *  arise, 
Peril  is  near,  unclose  thine  eyes. 
Ah,  heedless  Queen,  too  blind  to  know 
What  floods  of  sin  above  thee  flow  ! 
Thy  boasts  of  love  and  grace  are  o'er  : 
Thine  is  the  show  and  nothing  more. 
His  favour  is  an  empty  cheat, 
A  torrent  dried  by  summer's  heat.' 

Thus  by  the  artful  maid  addressed 
In  cruel  words  from  raging  breast, 
The  queen,  sore  troubled,  spoke  in  turn ; 
'  What  evil  news  have  I  to  learn  ? 
That  mournful  eye,  that  altered  cheek 
Of  sudden  woe  or  danger  speak.' 

Such  were  the  words  Kaikeyi  said  : 
Then  Manthara,  her  eyeballs  red 
With  fury,  skilled  with  treacherous  art 
To  grieve  yet  more  her  lady's  heart, 
From  Rama,  in  her  wicked  hate, 
Kaikeyi's  love  to  alienate, 
Upon  her  evil  purpose  bent 
Began  again  most  eloquent : 
'Peril  awaits  thee  swift  and  sure, 
And  utter  woe  defying  cure  ; 
KingDasaratha  will  create 
Prince  Rama  Heir  Associate. 
Plunged  in  the  depths  of  wild  despair, 
My  soul  a  prey  to  pain  and  care, 
As  though  the  flames  consumed  me,  zeal 
Has  brought  me  for  my  lady's  weal, 
Thy  grief,  my  Queen,  is  grief  to  me: 
Thy  gain  my  greatest  gain  would  be. 
Proud  daughter  of  a  princely  line, 
The  rights  of  consort  queen  are  thine. 
How  art  thou,  born  of  royal  race, 
Blind  to  the  crimes  that  'kings  debase  ? 
Thy  lord  is  gracious,  to  deceive, 
And  flatters,  but  thy  soul  to  grieve, 
While  thy  pure  heart  that  thinks  no  sin 
Knows  not  the  snares  that  hem  thee  in. 
Thy  husband's  lips  on  thee  bestow 
Soft  soothing  word,  an  empty  show  : 
The  wealth,  the  substance,  and  the  power 
This  day  will  be  Kausalya's  dower. 
With  crafty  soul  thy  child  he  sends 
To  dwell  among  thy  distant  friends, 
And,  every  rival  far  from  sight, 
To  Rama  gives  the  power  and  might. 
Ah  me  !  for  thou,  unhappy  dame, 
Deluded  by  a  husband's  name, 
With  more  than  mother's  love  hast  pressed 
A  serpent  to  thy  heedless  breast, 
And  cherished  him  who  works  thee  woe, 
No  husband  but  a  deadly  foe. 
For  like  a  snake,  unconscious  Queen, 
Or  enemy  who  stabs  unseen, 
King  Dasaratha  all  untrue 
Has  dealt  with  thee  and  Bharat  too. 
Ah,  simple  lady,  long  beguiled 
By  hia  soft  words  who  falsely  smiled ! 


Poor  victim  of  the  guileless  breast, 
A  happier  fate  thou  meritest. 
For  thee  and  thine  destruction  waits 
When  he  Prince  Rama  consecrates. 
Up.  lady,  while  there  yet  is  time  ; 
Preserve  thyself,  prevent  the  crime. 
Up,  from  thy  careless  ease,  and  free 
Thyself,  0  Queen,  thy  son,  and  me  !' 

Delighted  at  the  words  she  said, 
Kaikeyi  lifted  from  the  bed, 
Like  autumn's  moon,  her  radiant  head, 
And  joyous  at  the  tidings  gave 
A  jewel  to  the  hump -back  slave  ; 
And  as  she  gave  the  precious  toy 
Sue  cried  in  her  exceeding  joy  : 
'  Take  this,  dear  maiden,  for  thy  news 
Most  grateful  to  mine  ear,  and  choose 
What  grace  beside  most  fitly  may 
The  welcome  messenger  repay. 
I  joy  that  Rama  gains  the  throne  : 
Kausalya's  son  is  as  mine  own.' 


CANTO  VIII. 


MANTHARA'S  SPEECH. 

The  damsel's  breast  with  fury  burned  : 
She  answered,  as  the  gift  she  spurned  : 
'  What  time,  O  simple  Queen,  is  this 
For  idle  dreams  of  fancied  bliss? 
Hast  thou  not  sense  thy  state  to  know, 
Engulfed  in  seas  of  whelming  woe  ; 
Sick  as  I  am  with  grief  and  pain 
My  lips  can  scarce  a  laugh  restrain 
To  see  thee  hail  with  ill-timed  joy 
A  peril  mighty  to  destroy. 
I  mourn  for  one  so  fondly  blind  : 
What  woman  of  a  prudent  mind 
Would  welcome,  e'en  as  thou  hast  done, 
The  lordship  of  a  rival's  son, 
Rejoiced  to  find  her  secret  foe 
Empowered,  like    death,   to  launch  the 

blow  ; 

I  see  that  Rama  still  must  fear 
Thy  Bharat,  to  his  throne  too  near. 
Hence  is  my  heart  disquieted, 
For  those  who  fear  are  those  we  dread. 
Lakshman,  the  mighty  bow  who  draws. 
With  all  his  soul  serves  Rama's  cause  ; 
And  chains  as  strong  to  Bharat  bind 
£atrughna,  with  his  heart  and  mind, 
Now  next  to  Rama,  lady  fair, 
Thy  Bharat  is  the  lawful  heir  : 
And  far  remote,  I  ween,  the  chance 
That  might  the  younger  two  advance. 
Yes,  Queen,  'tis  Rama  that  I  dread, 
Wise,  prompt,  in  warlike  science  bredj 
And  oh,  I  tremble  when  I  think 
Of  thy  dear  child  on  rum's  brink. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  It. 


Blest  with  a  lofty  fate  is  she, 
Kausalya  ;  for  her  son  will  be 
Placed,  when  the  moon  and  Pushy  a  meet, 
By  Brahmans  on  the  royal  seat, 
Thou  as  a  slave  in  suppliant  guise 
Must  wait  upon  Kausalya's  eyes, 
With  all  her  wealth  and  bliss  secured 
And  glorious  from  her  foes  assured. 
Her  slave  with  us  who  serve  thee,  thoU 
Wilt  see  thy  son  to  Rama  bow, 
And  Sita's  friends  exult  o'er  all, 
While  Bharat's  wife  shares  Bharat's  fall.1 

As  thus  the  maid  in  wrath  complained, 
Kaikeyi  saw  her  heart  was  pained, 
And  answered  eager  in  defence 
Of  Kama's  worth  and  excellence  : 
*  Nay,  Rama,  born  the  monarch's  heir, 
By  holy  fathers  trained  with  care, 
Virtuous,  grateful,  pure,  and  true, 
Claims  royal  sway  as  rightly  due. 
He,  like  a  sire,  will  long  defend 
Each  brother,  minister,  and  friend. 
Then  why,  O  hump-back,  art  thou  pained 
To  hear  that  he  the  throne  has  gained  ? 
Be  sure  when  Rama's  empire  ends, 
The  kingdom  to  my  son  descends, 
Who,  when  a  hundred  years  are  flown, 
Shall  sit  upon  his  fathers'  throne. 
Why  is  thine  heart  thus  sad  to  see 
The  joy  that  is  and  long  shall  be, 
This  fortune  by  possession  sure 
And  hopes  which  we  may  count  secure? 
Dear  as  the  darling  son  I  bore 
Is  Rama,  yea,  or  even  more. 
Most  duteous  to  Kausalya,  he 
Is  yet  more  dutiful  to  me. 
What  though  he  rule,  we  need  not  fear  : 
His  brethren  to  his  soul  are  dear. 
And  if  the  throne  Prince  Rama  fill 
Bharat  will  share  the  empire  still.' 

She  ceased.  The  troubled  damsel  sighed 
Sighs  long  and  hot,  and  thus  replied  : 
'  What  madness  has  possessed  thy  mind,* 
To  warnings  deaf,  to  dangers  blind  ? 
Canst  thou  not  see  the  floods  of  woe 
That  threaten  o'er  thine  head  to  flow: 
First  Rama  will  the  throne  acquire, 
Then  Rama's  son  succeed  his  sire, 
While  Bharat  will  neglected  pine 
Excluded  from  the  royal  line. 
Not  all  his  sons,  O  lady  fair, 
The  kingdom  of  a  monarch  share: 
All  ruling  when  a  sovereign  dies 
Wild  tumult  in  the  state  would  rise. 
The  eldest,  be  he  good  or  ill, 
Is  ruler  by  the  father's  will. 
Know,  tender  mother,  that  thy  son 
Without  a  friend  and  all  undone, 
Far  from  the  joyous  ease  of  home 
An  alien  from  his  race  will  roam. 
I  aped  to  thee  for  whom  I  feel, 


But  thy  fond  heart  mistakes  my  zeal, 
Thy  hand  a  present  would  bestow 
Because  thy  rival  triumphs  so. 
When  Rama  once  begins  his  sway 
Without  a  foe  his  will  to  stay, 
Thy  darling  Bharat  he  will  drive 
To  distant  lands  if  left  alive. 
By  thee  the  child  was  sent  away 
Beneath  his  grandsire's  roof  to  stay, 
Even  in  stocks  and  stones  perforce 
Will  friendship  spring  from  intercourse. 
The  young  &atrughna  too  would  go 
With  Bharat,  for  he  loved  him  so. 
As  Lakshman  still  to  Rama  cleaves, 
He  his  dear  Bharat  never  leaves. 
There  is  an  ancient  tale  they  tell : 
A  tree  the  foresters  would  fell 
Was  saved  by  reeds  that  round  it  stood, 
For  love  that  sprang  of  neighbourhood. 
So  Lakshman  Rama  will  defend, 
And  each  on'each  for  aid  depend. 
Such  fame  on  earth  their  friendship  wins 
As  that  which  binds  the  Heavenly  Twins, 
And  Rama  ne'er  will  purpose  wrong 
To  Lakshman,  for  their  love  is  strong. 
But  Bharat,  Oh,  of  this  be  sure, 
Must  evil  at  his  hands  endure. 
Come,  Rama  from  his  home  expel 
An  exile  in  the  woods  to  dwell. 
The  plan,  O  Queen,  which  I  advise 
Secures  thy  weal  if  thou  be  wise. 
So  we  and  all  thy  kith  and  kin 
Advantage  from  thy  gain  shall  win. 
Shall  Bharat,  meet 'for  happier  fate, 
Born  to  endure  his  rival's  hate, 
With  all  his  fortune  ruined  cower 
And  dread  his  brother's  mightier  power  ? 
Up,  Queen,  to  save  thy  son,  arise  ; 
Prostrate  at  Rama's  feet  he  lies. 
So  the  proud  elephant  who  leads 
His  trooping  consorts  through  the  reeds 
Falls  in  the  forest  shade  beneath 
The  lion's  spring  and  murderous  teeth. 
Scorned  by  thee  in  thy  bliss  and  pride 
Kausalya  was  of  old  defied, 
And  will  she  now  forbear  to  show 
The  vengeful  rancour  of  a  foe  ? 
O  Queen,  thy  darling  is  undone 
When  Rama's  hand  has  once  begun 

Ayodhya's  realm  to  sway, 
Come,  win  the  kingdom  for  thy  child 
And  drive  the  alien  to  the  wild 
In  banishment  to-day.' 

CANTO  IX. 
THE  PLOT. 

As  fury  lit  Kaikeyi's  eyes 

She  spoke  with  long  and  burning  sighs  : 


to  IX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


99 


« This  day  my  son  enthroned  shall  see, 
And  Kama  to  the  woods  shall  tlee. 
But  tell  me,  damsel,  if  thou  can, 
A  certain  way,  a  skilful  plan 
That  Bharat  may  the  empire  gain, 
And  Rama's  hopes  be  nursed  in  vain.' 

The  lady  ceased.    The  wicked  maid 
The  mandate  of  her  queen  obeyed, 
And  darkly  plotting  Kama's  fall 
Responded  to  Kaikeyi's  call, 

'I  will  declare,  do  thou  attend, 
How  Bharat  may  his  throne  ascend. 
Dost  thou  forget  what  things  befell? 
Or  dost  thou  feign,  remembering  well  ? 
Or  wouldst  thou  hear  my  tongue  repeat 
A  story  for  thy  need  so  meet  ? 
Gay  lady,  it'  thy  will  be  so, 
JSIow  hear  the  tale  of  long  ago, 
And  when  my  tongue  has  done  its  part 
Ponder  the  story  in  thine  heart. 
When  Gods  and  demons  fought  of  old, 
Thy  lord,  with  royal  saints  enrolled, 
Sped  to  the  war  with  thee  to  bring 
Bis  might  to  aid  the  Immortals'  King. 
Far  to  the  southern  land  he  sped 
Where  Dandaks  mighty  wilds  are  spread, 
To  Vaijayanta's  city  swayed 
By  $ambara,  whose  flag  displayd 
The  hugest  monster  of  the  sea. 
Lord  of  a  hundred  wiles  was  he  ; 
With  might  which  Gods  could  never  blame 
Against  the  King  of  Heaven  he  came. 
Then  raged  the  battle  wild  and  dread, 
And  mortal  warriors  fought  and  bled  ; 
The  fiends  by  night  with  strength  renewed 
Charged,  slew  the  sleeping  multitude. 
Thy  lord,  King  Dasaratha,  long 
Stood  fighting  with  the  demon  throng, 
But  long  of  arm,  unmatched  in  strength, 
Fell  wounded  by  their  darts  at  length. 
Thy  husband,  senseless,  by  thine  aid 
Was  from  the  battle  field  conveyed, 
And  wounded  nigh  to  death  thy  lord 
Was  by  thy  care  to  health  restored. 
Well  pleased  the,  grateful  monarch  sware 
To  grant  thy  first  and  second  prayer. 
Thou  for  no  favour  then  wouldst  sue, 
The  gifts  reserved  for  season  due ; 
And  he,  thy  high-souled  lord,  agreed 
To  give  the  boons  when  thou  shouldst  need. 
Myself  1  knew  not  what  befell, 
But  oft  the  tale  have  heard  thee  tell, 
And  close  to  thee  in  friendship  knit 
Deep  in  my  heart  have  treasured  it. 
Remind  thy  husband  of  his  oath, 
Recall  the  boons  and  claim  them  both, 
That  Bharat  on  the  throne  be  placed 
With  rites  of  consecration  graced, 
And  Rama  to  the  woods  be  sent 
For  twice  seven  years  of  banishment. 


Go,  Queen,  the  mourner's  chamber1  seek, 
With  angry  eye  and  burning  cheek  ; 
And  with  disordered  robes  and  hair 
On  the  cold  earth  lie  prostrate  there. 
When  the  king  comes  still  mournful  lie, 
Speak  not  a  word  nor  meet  his  eye, 
But  let  thy  tears  in  torrent  flow, 
And  lie  enamoured  of  thy  woe. 
Well  do  I  know  thou  IODT  hast  been, 
And  ever  art,  his  darling  queen. 
For  thy  dear  sake,  O  well-loved  dame, 
The  mighty  king  would  brave  the  flame, 
But  ne'er  would  anger  thee,  or  brook 
To  meet  his  favourite's  wrathful  look. 
Thy  loving  lord  would  even  die 
Thy  fancy,  Queen,  to  gratify, 
And  never  could  he  arm  his  breast 
To  answer  nay  to  thy  request. 
Listen  and  learn,  O  dull  of  sense, 
Thine  all -resistless,  influence. 
Gems  he  will  offer,  pearls  and  gold  : 
Refuse  his  gifts,  be  stern  and  cold. 
Those  proffered  boons  at  length  recall, 
And  claim  them  till  he  grants  thee  all. 
And  O  my  lady,  high  in  bliss, 
With  heedful  thought  forget  not  this. 
When  from  the  ground  his  queen  he  lifts 
And  grants  again  the  promised  gifts, 
Bind  him  with  oaths  he  cannot  break 
And  thy  demands  unflnching,  make, 
That  Rama  travel  to  the  wild 
Five  years  and  nine  from  home  exiled, 
And  Bharat,  best  of  all  who  reign, 
The  empire  of  the  land  obtain. 
For  when  this  term  of  years  has  fled 
Over  the  banished  Rama's  head, 
Thy  royal  son  to  vigour  grown 
And  rooted  firm  will  stand  alone. 
The  king,  I  know,  is  well  inclined, 
And  this  the  hour  to  move  his  mind. 
Be  bold  :  the  threatened  rite  prevent, 
And  force  the  king  from  his  intent.' 

She  ceased.    So  counselled  to  her  bane 
Disguised  beneath  a  show  of  gain, 
Kaikeyi  in  her  joy  and  pride 
To  Manthara  again  replied  : 
*  Thy  sense  I  envy,  prudent  maid  ; 
With  sagest  lore  thy  lids  persuade. 
No  hump-back  maid  in  all  the  earth, 
For  wise  resolve,  can  match  thy  worth. 
Thou  art  alone  with  constant  zeal 
Devoted  to  thy  lady's  weal. 
Dear  girl,  without  thy  faithful  aid 
I  had  not  marked  the  plot  he  laid. 


1  Literally  the  chamber  of  wrath,  a 
' growler •?/,'  a  small,  dark,  unfurnished 
room  to  which  it  seems,  the  wives  and 
ladies  of  the  king  betook  themselves  when 
offended  and  sulky, 


100 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


Full  of  all  guile  and  sin  and  spite 
Misshapen  hump-backs  shock  the  sight  : 
But  thou  art  fair  and  formed  to  please, 
Bent  like  a  lily  by  the  breeze. 
I  look  thee  o'er  with  watchful  eye, 
And  in  thy  frame  no  fault  can  spy  ; 
The  chest  so  deep,  the  waist  so  trim, 
So  round  the  lines  of  breast  and  limb.1 
Thy  cheeks  with  moonlike  beauty  shine, 
And  the  warm  wealth  of  youth  is  thine. 
Thy  legs,  my  girl,  are  long  and  neat, 
And  somewhat  long  thy  dainty  feet, 
While  stepping  out  before  my  face 
Thou  seemest  like  a  crane  to  pace. 
The  thousand  wiles  are  in  thy  breast 
Which  £ambara  the  fiend  possessed, 
And  countless  others  all  thine  own, 
O  damsel  sage,  to  thee  are  known. 
Thy  very  hump  becomes  thee  too, 
O  thou  whose  face  is  fair  to  view, 
For  there  reside  in  endless  store 
Plots,  wizard  wiles,  and  warrior  lore. 
A  golden  chain  I'll  round  it  fling 
When  Rama's  flight  makes  Bharat  king  : 
Yea,  polished  links  of  finest  gold, 
When  once  the  wished  for  prize  I  hold 
With  naught  to  fear  and  none  to  hate, 
Thy  hump,  dear  maid,  shall  decorate. 
A  golden  frontlet  wrought  with  care, 
And  precious  jewels  shalt  thou  wear  : 
Two  lovely  robes  around  thee  fold, 
And  walk'a  Goddess  to  behold, 
Bidding  the  moon  himself  compare 
His  beauty  with  a  face  so  fair. 
With  scent  of  precious  sandal  sweet 
Down  to  the  nails  upon  thy  feet, 
First  of  the  household  thou  shalt  go 
And  pay  with  scorn  each  baffled  foe.' 

Kaikeyi's  praise  the  damsel  heard, 
And  thus  again  her  lady  stirred, 
Who  lay  upon  her  beauteous  bed 
Like  fire  upon  the  altar  fed  : 
'  Dear  Queen,  they  build  the  bridge  in  vain 
When  swollen  streams  are  dry  again. 
Arise,  thy  glorious  task  complete, 
And  draw  the  king  to  thy  retreat.' 

The  large-eyed  lady  left  her  bower 
Exulting  in  her  pride  of  power, 
And  with  the  hump- back  sought  the  gloom 
And  silence  of  the  mourner's  room. 
The  string  of  priceless  pearls  that  hung 
Around  her  neck  to  earth  she  flung, 
With  all  the  wealth  and  lustre  lent 
By  precious  gem  and  ornament, 
Then,  listening  to  her  slave's  advice, 
Lay,  like  a  nymph  from  Paradise. 


1  In  these  four  lines  I  do  not  translate 
faithfully,  and  I  do  not  venture  to  follow 
Kaikeyi  farther  in  her  eulogy  of  the  hump- 
back's charms, 


As  on  the  ground  her  limbs  she  laid 

Once  more  she  cried  unto  the  maid  : 

'  Soon  must  thou  to  the  monarch  say 

Kaikeyi's  soul  has  past  away, 

Or,  Rama  banished  as  we  planned, 

My  son  made  king  shall  rule  the  land, 

No  more  for  gold  and  gems  I  care, 

For  brave  attire  or  dainty  fare. 

If  Rama  should  the  throne  ascend, 

That  very  hour  my  life  will  end.' 

The  royal  lady  wounded  through 
The  bosom  with  the  darts  that  flew 

Launched  from  the  hump-back's  tongue 
Pressed  both  her  hands  upon  her  side, 
And  o'er  and  o'er  again  she  cried 

With  wildering  fury  stung  : 
'  Yes,  it  shall  be  thy  task  to  tell 
That  I  have  hurried  hence  to  dwell 

In  Yama's  realms  of  woe, 
Or  happy  Bharat  shall  be  king, 
And  doomed  to  years  of  wandering 

Kausalya's  son  shall  go. 
I  heed  not  dainty  viands  now 
Fair  wreaths  of  flowers  to  twine  my  brow, 

!Soft  balm  or  precious  scent : 
My  very  life  1  count  as  naught, 
Nothing  on  earth  can  claim  my  thought 

But  Rama's  banishment.' 

She  spoke  these  words  of  cruel  ire  ; 
Then  stripping  off  her  gay  attire, 

The  cold  bare  floor  she  pressed. 
So,  falling  from  her  home  on  high, 
Some  lovely  daughter  of  the  sky 

Upon  the  ground  might  rest. 
With  darkened  brow  and  furious  mien, 
Stripped  of  her  gems  and  wreath,  the  queen 

In  spotless  beauty  lay, 
Like  heaven  obscured  with  gatheringcloud, 
When  shades  of  midnight  darkness  shroud 

Each  star's  expiring  ray. 

CANTO  X. 


DAgARATHA'S   SPEECH. 

As  Queen  Kaikeyi  thus  obeyed 
The  sinful  counsel  of  her  maid 
She  sank  upon  the  chamber  floor, 
As  sinks  in  anguish,  wounded  sore, 
An  elephant  beneath  the  smart 
Of  the  wild  hunter's  venomed  dart. 
The  lovely  lady  in  her  mind 
Revolved  the  plot  her  maid  designed, 
And  prompt  the  gain  and  risk  to  scan 
She  step  by  step  approved  the  plan. 
Misguided  by  the  hump -back's  guile 
She  pondered  her  resolve  awhile, 
As  the  fair  path  that  bliss  secured 
The  miserable  lady  lured, 


Canto  X. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


101 


Devoted  to  her  queen,  and  swayed 

By  hopes  of  gain  and  bliss,  the  maid 

Rejoiced  her  lady's  purpose  known, 

And  deemed  the  prize  she  sought  her  own. 

Then  bent  upon  her  purpose  dire, 

Kaikeyi  with  her  soul  on  fire, 

Upon  the  floor  lay,  languid,  down, 

Her  brows  contracted  in  a  frown. 

The  bright-hued  wreath  that  bound  her 

hair, 

Chains,  necklets,  jewels  rich  and  rare, 
Stripped  oif  by  her  own  ringers  lay 
Spread  on  the  ground  in  disarray, 
And  to  the  floor  a  lustre  lent 
As  stars  light  up  the  firmament. 
Thus  prostrate  in  the  mourner's  cell, 
In  gerb  of  woe  the  lady  fell, 
Her  long  hair  in  a  single  braid, 
Like  some  fair  nymph  of  heaven  dismayed.1 

The  monarch,  Rama  to  install, 
With  thoughtful  care  had  ordered  all, 
And  now  within  his  home  withdrew, 
Dismissing  first  his  retinue. 
Now  all  the  town  has  heard,  thought  he, 
What  joyful  rite  the  morn  will  see, 
80  turned  he  to  her  bower  to  cheer 
With  the  glad  news  his  darling's  ear. 
Majestic,  as  the  Lord  of  Night, 
When  threatened  by  the  Dragon's  might, 
Bursts  radiant  on  the  evening  sky 
Pale  with  the  clouds  that  wander  by, 
So  Dasaratha,  great  in  fame, 
To  Queen  Kaikeyi's  palace  came. 
There  parrots  flew  from  tree  to  tree, 
And  gorgeous  peacocks  wandered  free, 
While  ever  and  anon  was  heard 
The  note  of  some  glad  water-bird. 
Here  loitered  dwarf  and  hump-backed  maid, 
There  lute  and  lyre  sweet  music  played. 
Here,  rich  in  blossom,  creepers  twined 
O'er  grots  with  wondrous  art  designed, 
There  Champac  and  Asoka  flowers 
Hung  glorious  o'er  the  summer  bowers, 
And  mid  the  waving  verdure  rose 
Gold,  silver,  ivory  porticoes, 
Through  all  the  months  in  ceaseless  store 
The  trees  both  fruit  and  blossom  bore. 
With  many  a  lake  the  grounds  were  graced; 
Seats  gold  and  silver,  here  were  placed  ; 
Here  every  viand  wooed  the  taste. 
It  was  a  garden  meet  to  vie 
E'en  with  the  home  of  Gods  on  high. 


1  These  verses  are  evidently  an  inter- 
polation. They  contain  nothing  that  has 
not  been  already  related :  the  words  only 
are  altered.  As  the  whole  poem  could  not 
be  recited  at  once,  the  rhapsodists  at  the 
beginning  of  a  fresh  recitation  would  na- 
turally remind  their  hearers  of  the  events 
immediately  preceding. 


Within  the  mansion  rick  qcd  J0st 
The  mighty  D,a$avathft  paLseii : 
Not  there  wa.s  His  beloved  queen' 
On  her  fair  couch  reclining  seen. 
With  love  his  eager  pulses  beat 
For  the  dear  wife  he  came  to  meet, 
And  in  his  blissful  hopes  deceived, 
He  sought  his  absent  love  and  grieved. 
For  never  had  she  missed  the  hour 
Of  meeting  in  her  sumptuous  bower, 
And  never  had  the  king  of  men 
Entered  the  empty  room  till  then. 
Still  urged  by  love  and  anxious  thought 
News  of  his  favourite  queen  he  sought, 
For  never  had  his  loving  eyes 
Found  her  or  selfish  or  unwise. 
Then  spoke  at  length  the  warder  maid, 
With  hands  upraised  and  sore  afraid  : 
'  My  Lord  and  King,  the  queen  has  sought 
The  mourner's  cell  with  rage  distraught.' 

The  words  the  warder  maiden  said 
He  heard  with  soul  disquieted, 
And  thus  as  fiercer-grief  assailed, 
His  troubled  senses  wellnigh  failed. 
Consumed  by  torturing  fires  of  grief 
The  king,  the  world's  imperial  chief, 
His  lady  lying  on  the  ground 
In  most  un queenly  posture,  found. 
The  aged  king,  all  pure  within, 
Saw  the  young  queen  resolved  on  sin, 
Low  on  the  ground,  his  own  sweet  wife, 
To  him  far  dearer  than  his  life, 
Like  some  fair  creeping  plant  uptorn 
Or  like  a  maid  of  heaven  forlorn, 
A  nymph  of  air  or  Goddess  sent 
From  Swarga  down  in  banishment. 

As  some  wild  elephant  who  tries 
To  soothe  his  consort  as  she  lies 
Struck  by  the  hunters  venomed  dart 
fco  the  great  king,  disturbed  in  heart 
Strove  with  soft  hand  and  fond  caress 
To  soothe  his  darling  queen's  distress 
And  in  his  love  addressed  with  sighs  ' 
The  lady  of  the  lotus  eyes: 
'  I  know  not,  Queen,  why  thou  shouldst  be 
Thus  angered  to  the  heart  with  me. 
Say,  who  has  slighted  thee,  or  whence 
Has  come  the  cause  of  such  offence 
That  in  the  dust  thou  liest  low, 
And  rendest  my  fond  heart  with  woe, 
As  if  some  goblin  of  the  night 
Had  struck  thee  with  a  deadly  blight, 
And  cast  f  >ul  influence  on  her 
Whose  spells  my  loving  bosom  stir? 
I  have  Physicians  famed  for  skill, 
Each  trained  to  cure  some  special  ill  : 
My  sweetest  lady,  tell  thy  pain, 
And  they  shall  make  thee  well  again. 
Whom,  darling,  wouldstthou  punfshed  see? 
Or  whom  enriched  with  lordly  fee  ? 


102 


THE  RAMA  TAN. 


Boole  II. 


WaepzcdJ,  my  Jevsl?  Queen,  and  stay 

Thisjgyief?  that»*ea'rs  thyJrame  away. 

Speak, 'and  the  guihy  Shall  ?3e^freed. 

The  guiltless  be  condemned  to  bleed, 

The  poor  enriched,  the  rich  abased. 

The  low  set  high,  the  proud  disgraced. 

My  lords  and  I  thy  will  obey, 

All  slaves  who  own  thy  sovereign  sway  ; 

And  I  can  ne'er  my  heart  incline 

To  check  in  aught  one  wish  of  thine. 

Now  by  rny  life  I  pray  thee  tell 

Q.  he  thoughts  that  in  thy  bosom  dwell. 

The  power  and  might  thou  knowest  well 

Should  from  thy  breast  all  doubt  expel. 

I  swear  by  all  my  merit  won, 

Speak,  arid  thy  pleasure  shall  be  done. 

Far  as  the  world's  wide  bounds  extend 

My  glorious  empire  knows  no  end. 

Mine  are  the  tribes  in  eastern  lands, 

And  those  who  dwell  on  Sindhu's  sands  : 

Mine  is  Surashtra,  far  away, 

Suvira's  realm  admits  rny  sway. 

My  best  the  southern  nations  fear, 

The  Angas  and  the  Vangas  hear. 

And  as  lord  paramount  I  reign 

O'er  Magadh  and  the  Matsyas'  plain, 

Kosal,  and  Kasi's  wide  domain  :] 

All  rich  in  treasures  of  the  mine, 

In  golden  corn,  sheep,  goats,  and  kine. 

Choose  what  thou  wilt,  Kaikeyi,  thence  : 

But  tell  me,  O  my  darling,  whence 

Arose  thy  grief,  and  it  shall  fly 

Like  hoar-frost  when  the  sun  is  high.' 

She,  by  his  loving  words  consoled, 
Longed  her  dire  purpose  to  unfold, 
And  sought  with  sharper  pangs  to  wring 
The  bosom  of  her  lord  the  king. 

CANTO  XL 
THE  QUEEN'S  DEMAND. 

To  him  enthralled  by  love,  and  blind, 

Pierced  by  his  darts  who  shakes  the  mind,2 

'Kaikeyi  with  remorseless  breast 

Her  cruel  purpose  thus  expressed : 

'  O  King,  no  insult  or  neglect 

Have  I  endured,  or  disrespect. 

One  wish  I  have,  and  fain  would  see 

That  long-ing  granted,  lord,  by  thee. 

Now  pledge  thy  word  if  thou  incline 


1  The  Slnka  or  distich    which  I   have 
been   forced   to  expand  into   these   nine 
lines  is  evidently  spurious,  but  is  found  in 
all  the  commented  MSS.  which  Schlegel 
consulted. 

2  Manmatha,  Mind-disturber,  a  name  of 
Kama  or  Love. 


To  listen  to  this  prayer  of  mine, 
Then  I  with  confidence  will  speak, 
And  thou  shalt  hear  the  boon  I  seek.' 

Ere  she  had  ceased,  the  monarch  fell 
A  victim  to  the  lady's  spell, 
And  to  the  deadly  snare  she  set 
Sprang,  like  a  roebuck  to  the  net. 
Her  lover  raised  her  drooping  head, 
Smiled,  playing  with  her  hair,  and  said  : 
Hast  thou  not  learnt,  wild  dame,  till  now 
That  there  is  none  so  dear  as  thou 
To  me  thy  loving  husband,  save 
My  Rama  bravest  of  the  brave  t 
By  him  my  race's  high-souled  heir, 
By  him  whom  none  can  mateh,  I  swear, 
Now  speak  the  wish  that  on  thee  weighs  : 
By  him  whose  right  is  length  of  days, 
Whom  if  my  fond  paternal  eye    • 
Saw  not  one  hour  I  needs  must  die,— 
I  swear  by  Raina!my*dear  son, 
Speak,  and  thy  bidding  shall  be  done. 
Speak,  darling  ;  if  thou  choose,  request 
To  have  the  heart  from  out  my  breast  ; 
Regard  my  words,  sweet  love,  and  name 
The  wish  thy  mind  thinks  fit  to  frame. 
Nor  let  thy  soul  give  way  to  doubt : 
My  power  should  drive  suspicion  out. 
Yea,  by  my  merits  won  I  swear, 
Speak,  darling,  I  will  grant  thy  prayer.' 

The  queen,  ambitious,  overjoyed 
To  see  him  by  her  plot  decoyed, 
More  eager  still  her  aims  to  reach, 
Spoke  her  abominable  speech  : 
'  A  boon  thou  grantest,  nothing  loth, 
And  swearest  with  repeated  oath. 
Now  let  the  thirty  Gods  and  three 
My  witnesses,  with  Indra,  be. 
Let  sun  arid  moon  and  planets  hear, 
Heaven,  quarters,  day  and  night,  give  ear. 
The  mighty  world,  the  earth  outspread, 
With  bards  of  heaven  and  demons  dread; 
The  ghosts  that  walk  in  midnight  shade, 
And  household  Gods,  our  present  aid, 
And  every  being  great  and  small 
To  hear  and  mark  the  oath  I  call.' 

When  thus  the  archer  king  was  bound 
With  treacherous  arts  and  oaths  enwound, 
She  to  her  bounteous  lord  subdued 
By  blinding  love,  her  speech  renewed  : 
'  Remember,  King,  that  long-past  day 
Of  Gods'  and  demons'  battle  fray, 
And  how  thy  foe  in  doubtful  strife 
Had  nigh  bereft  thee  of  thy  life. 
Remember,  it  was  only  I 
Preserved  thee  when  about  to  die, 
And  thou  for  watchful  love  and  care 
Wouldst  grant  my  first  and  second  prayer. 
Those  offered  boons,pl  edged  with  thee  then, 
I  now  demand,  O  King  of  men, 


Canto 


THE  RAMA7AN. 


103 


Of  thee,  O  Monarch,  good  and  just, 
Whose  righteous  soul  observes  each  trust. 
If  thou  refuse  thy  promise  sworn, 
I  die,  despised,  before  the  m  >rn. 
Tnese  rites  in  R4rna's  name  begun — 
Transfer  them,  and  enthrone  my  son. 
Tue  time  is  come  to  claim  at  last 
That  double  boon  of  days  long-past, 
When  Gods  and  dem  >ns  mst  in  tight, 
And  thou  wouldst  fain  my  care  requite. 
Now  forth  to  Dandak's  forest  drive 
Thy  Rama  for  niiie  years  and  five, 
And  let  him  dwell  a  hermit  there 
With  deerskin  coat  and  matted  hair. 
Without  a  rival  let  mv  boy 
The  empire  of  the  land  enjoy, 
And  let  mine  eyes  ere  morning  see 
Thy  Rum  a  to  the  forest  flee.' 


CANTO  XII. 


DAgARATHA'S  LAMENT. 

The  monarch,  as  Kaikeyi  pressed 
With  cruel  words  her  dire  request, 
Stood  for  a  time  absorbed  in  thought 
While  anguish  in  his  bosom  wrought. 
'  Does  some  wild  dream  mv  heart  assail  ? 
Or  do  my  troubled  senses  fail  ? 
Does  some  dire  portent  scare  rnv  view? 
Or  frenzy's  stroke  my  soul  subdue  ? ' 
Thus  as  he  thought,  his  troubled  mind 
In  doubt  and  dread  no  rest  could  find, 
Distressed  and  trembling  like  a  deer 
Who  sees  the  dreaded  tigress  near. 
On  the  bare  ground  his  limbs  he  threw, 
And  many  a  long  deep  sigh  he  drew, 
Like  a  wild  snake,  with  fury  blind, 
By  charms  within  a  ring  confined. 
Once  as  the  monarch's  fury  woke, 
'  Shame  on  thee ! '  from  his  bosom  broke, 
And  then  in  sense -bewildering  pain 
He  fainted  on  the  ground  again. 
At  length,  when  slowly  strength  returned 
He  answered  as  his  eyeballs  burned 
With  the  wild  fury  of  his  ire 
Consuming  her,  as  'twere,  with  fire  : 
'  Fell  traitress,  thou  whose  thoughts  design 
The  utter  ruin  of  my  line, 
What  wrong  have  I  or  Rama  done  ? 
Speak  murderess,  speak  thou  wicked  one, 
Seeks  he  not  evermore  to  please 
Thee  with  all  sonlike  courtesies? 
By  what  persuasion  art  thou  led 
To  bring  this  ruin  on  his  head? 
Ah  me,  that  fondly  unaware 
I  brought  thee  home  my  life  to  snare, 
Called  daughter  of  a  king,  in  truth 
A  serpent  with  a  venomed  tooth  ! 
8 


What  fault  can  I  preteni  to  find 
u  Rlma  praised  by  all  mankind, 
That  I  my  darling  sh  mid  forsake  ? 
$o,  take  my  life,  my  glory  take  : 
L.et  either  queen  be  from  me  torn, 
But  nob  mv  well-loved  eldest-born. 
Elim  but  to  see  is  highest  bliss, 
And  death  itself  his  face  to  miss. 
The  world  may  sunless  stand,  the  grain 
May  thrive  without  the  genial  rain, 
B=it  if  my  R  ima  be  not  nigh 
My  spirit  from  its  frame  will  fly. 
E  10 ugh,  thine  impious  plan  forgo, 
O  thou  who  plottesb  sin  and  woe. 
My  head  before  thy  feet,  I  kneel, 
And  prav  thee  some  compassion  feel, 
O  wicked  dame,  what  can  have  led 
Thy  heart  to  dare  a  plot  so  dread  ? 
Perchance  thy  purpose  is  to  sound 
The  grace  thy  son  with  me  has  found  ; 
Perchance  the  words  that,  all  these  days, 
Thou  still  hast  said  in  Rama's  praise, 
Were  only  feigned,  designed  to  cheer 
With  flatteries  a  father's  ear. 
Soon  as  thy  grief,  my  Queen,  I  knew, 
My  bosom  felt  the  anguish  too. 
In  empty  halls  art  thou  possessed, 
And  subject  to  anothers'  hest  ? 
Now  on  Ikshvaku's  ancient  race 
Falls  foul  disorder  and  disgrace, 
If  thou,  O  Queen,  whose  heart  so  long 
Has  loved  the  good  should  choose  the  wrong 
Not  once,  O  large- eyed  dame,  hast  thou 
Been  guilty  of  offence  till  now, 
Nor  said  a  word  to  make  me  grieve, 
Nor  will  I  now  thy  sin  believe. 
With  thee  my  Rama  used  to  hold 
Like  place  with  Bharat  lofty-souled. 
As  thou  so  often,  when  the  pair 
Were  children  yet,  wouldst  fain  declare. 
And  can  thy  righteous  soul  endure 
That  Rama  glorious,  pious,  pure, 
Should  to  the  distant  wilds  be  sent 
For  fourteen  years  of  banishment  f 
Yea,  Rama  Bharat's  self  exceeds 
In  love  to  thee  and  sonlike  deeds, 
And,  for  deserving  love  of  thee, 
As  Bharat,  even  so  is  he. 
Who  better  than  that  chieftain  may 
Obedience,  love,  and  honour  pay, 
Thy  dignity  with  care  protect, 
Thy  slightest  word  and  wish  respect  ? 
Of  all  his  countless  followers  none 
Can  breathe  a  word  against  my  son  ; 
Of  many  thousands  not  a  dame 
Can  hint  reproach  or  whisper  blame. 
All  creatures  feel  the  sweet  control 
Of  llama's  pure  and  gentle  soul. 
The  pride  of  Manu's  race  he  binds 
To  him  the  people's  grateful  minds. 
He  wins  the  subjects  with  his  truth, 


104 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


The  poor  with  gifts  and  gentle  ruth, 
His  teachers  with  his  docile  will, 
The  foemen  with  his  archer  skill. 
Truth,  purity,  religious  zeal, 
The  hand  to  give,  the  heart  to  feel, 
The  love  that  ne'er  betrays  a  friend, 
The  rectitude  that  naught  can  bend, 
Knowledge,  and  meek  obedience  grace 
My<  Kama  pride  of  Raghu's  race. 
Canst  thou  thine  impious  plot  design 
'Gainst  him  in  whom  these  virtues  shine, 
Whose  glory  with  the  sages  vies, 
Peer  of  the  Gods  who  rale  the  skies  ? 
From  him  no  harsh  or  bitter  word 
To  pain  one  creature  have  I  heard, 
And  how  can  I  my  son  address, 
For  thee,  with  words  of  bitterness  ? 
Have  mercy,  Queen:  some  pity  show 
To  see  my  tears  of  anguish  flow, 
And  listen  to  my  mournful  cry, 
A, poor  old  man  who  soon  must  die. 
Whate'er  this  sea-girt  land  can  boast 
Of  rich  and  rare  from  coast  to  coa^t, 
To  thee,  my  Queen,  I  give  it  all : 
But  O,  thy  deadly  words  recall : 
O  see,  my  suppliant  hands  entreat, 
Again  my  lips  are  on  thy  feet : 
Save  Rama,  save  my  darling  child, 
Nor  kill  me  with  this  sin  defiled.' 
He  grovelled  on  the  ground,  and  lay 
To  burning  grief  a  senseless  prey, 
And  ever  and  anon,  assailed 
By  floods  of  woe  he  wept  and  wailed, 
Striving  with  eager  speed  to  gain 
The  margent  of  his  sea  of  pain. 

With  fiercer  words  she  fiercer  yet 
The  hapless  father's  pleading  met: 
'  O  Monarch,  if  thy  soul  repent 
The  promise  and  thy  free  consent, 
H0w  wilt  thou  in  the  world  maintain 
Thy  fame  for  truth  unsmirched  with  stain  ? 
When  gathered  kings  with  thee  converse, 
And  bid  thee  all  the  tale  relrearse, 
What  wilt  thou  say,  O  truthful  King, 
In  answer  to  their  questioning? 
'  She  to  whose  love  my  life  I  owe, 
Who  saved  me  smitten  by  the  foe, 
Kaikeyi,  for  her  tender  care, 
Was  cheated  of  the  oath  I  sware.' 
Thus  wilt  thcu  answer,  and  forsworn 
Wilt  draw  on  thee  the  princes'  scorn. 
Learn  from  that  tale,  the  Hawk  and  Dove,' 
How  strong  for  truth  was  Saivya's  love. 
Pledged  by  his  word  the  monarch  gave 
His  flesh  the  suppliant  bird  to  save. 
So  King  Alarka  gave  his  eyes, 
And  gained  a  mansion  in  the  skies. 


i  This  story  is  told  in  the  Mahabharat. 
A  free  version  of  it  may  be  f o.und  in  Scenes 
frvm  -the  ^dm dyan,<  etc.  »  - 


The  Sea  himself  his  promise  keeps, 
And  ne'er  beyond  his  limit  sweeps. 
My  deeds  of  old  again  recall, 
Nor  let  thy  bond  dishonoured  fall. 
The  rights  of  truth  thou  wouldst  forget, 
Thy  Rama  on  the  throne  to  set, 
And  let  thy  days  in  pleasure  glide, 
Fond  King,  Kausalya  by  thy  side. 
Now  call  it  by  what  name  thou  wilt, 
Justice,  injustice,  virtue,  guilt, 
Thy  word  and  oath  remain  the  same. 
Ami  thou  must  yield  what  thus  I  claim. 
If  Rama  be  anointed,  I 
This  very  day  will  surely  die, 
Before  thy  face  will  poison  drink, 
And  lifeless  at  thy  feet  will  sink. 
Yea,  better  far  to  die  than  stay . 
Alive  to  see  one  single  day 
The  crowds  before  Kausalya  stand 
And  hail  her  queen  with  reverent  hand. 
Now  by  my  son.  myself,  I  swear, 
No  gift,  no  promise  whatsoe'er 
My  steadfast  soul  shall  now  content, 
But  only  llama's  banishment.' 

So  far  she  spake  by  rage  impelled, 
And  then  the  queen  deep  silence  held. 
He  heard  her  speech  full  fraught  with  ill, 
But  spoke  no  word  bewildered  still, 
Gazed,  on  his  love  once  held  so  dear 
Who  spoke  unlovely  rede  to  hear  ; 
Then  as  he  slowly  pondered  o'er 
The  queen's  resolve  and  oath  she  swore, 
Once  sighing  forth.  Ah  Rama !  he 
Fell  prone  as  falls  a  smitten  tree. 
His  senses  lost  like  one  insane, 
Faint  as  a  sick  man  weak  with  pain, 
Or  like  a  wounded  snake  dismayed, 
So  lay  the  king  whom  earth  obeyed. 
Long  burning  sighs  he  slowly  heaved, 
As,  conquered  by  his  woe,  he  grieved, 
And  thus  with  tears  and  sobs  between 
His  sad  faint  words  addressed  the  queen: 

'  By  whom,  Kaikeyi,  wast  thou  taught 
This  flattering  hope  with  ruin  fraught? 
Have  goblins  seized  thy  soul,  O  dame, 
Who  thus  canst  speak  and  feel  no  shame? 
Thy  mind  with  sin  is  sicklied  o'er, 
From  thy  first  youth  ne'er  seen  before. 
A  go<  d  and  loving  wife  wast  thou, 
But  all,  alas  !  is  altered  now. 
What  terror  can  have  seized  thy  breast 
To  make  thee  frame  this  dire  request, 
That  Bharat  o'er  the  land  may  reign, 
And  Rama  in  the  \\  ocds  remain  ? 
Turn  from  thine  evil  ways,  O  turn, 
And  thy  perfidious  counsel  spurn, 
If  thou  would  fain  a  favour  do 
To  people,  lord,  and  Bharat  too. 
O  wicked  traitress,  fierce  and  vile,     . 
Who  lovest.  deeds  of  sin  and  guile, 


Canto 


THE  RAM  A?  AN. 


105 


What  crime  or  grievance  dost  thou  see, 

What  fault  in  Rama  or  in  me  ? 

Thy  son  will  ne'er  the  throne  accept 

If  Rama  from  his  rights  be  kept, 

For  Bharat's  heart  more  lirmly  yet 

Than  Rama's  is  on  justice  set. 

How  shall  I  say,  Go  forth,  and  brook 

Upon  my  Rama's  face  to  look, 

See  his  pale  cheek  and  ashy  lips 

Dimmed  like  the  moon  in  sad  eclipse  ? 

How  see  the  plan  so  well  prepared 

When  prudent  friends  my  counsels  shared, 

All  ruined,  like  a  host  la'id  low 

Beneath  some  foeman's  murderous  blow 

What  will  these  gathered  princes  say, 

From  regions  near  and  far  away  1 

'  O'eiiong  endures  the  monarch's  reign, 

For  now  he  is  a  child  again.' 

When  many  a  good  and  holy  sage 

In  Scripture  versed,  revered  for  age, 

Shall  ask  for  Rama,  what  shall  I 

TFnhappy,  what  shall  I  reply  ? 

'  By  Queen  Kaikeyi  long  distressed 

I  drove  him  forth  and  dispossessed.' 

Although  herein  the  truth  I  speak, 

They  all  will  hold  me  false  and  weak. 

What  will  Kausalya  say  when  she 

Demands  htr  son  exiled  by  me  ? 

Alas  !  what  answer  shall  I  frame, 

Or  how  console  the  injured  dame? 

She  like  a  slave  on  me  attends, 

And  with  a  sister's  care  she  blends 

A  mother's  love,  a  wife's,  a  friend's. 

In  spite  of  all  her  tender  care, 

Her  noble  son,  her  face  most  fair, 

Another  queen  I  could  prefer 

And  for  thy  sake  neglected  her, 

But  now,  O  Queen,  my  heart  is  grieved 

For  love  and  care  by  thee  received, 

E'en  as  the  sickening  wretch  repents 

His  dainty  meal  and  condiments. 

And  how  will  Queen  Sumitra  trust 

The  husband  whom  she  rinds  unjust, 

Seeing  my  Rama  driven  hence 

Dishonoured,  and  for  no  offence  ? 

Ah  !  the  Videhan  bride  will  hear 

A  double  woe,  a  double  fear, 

Two  whelming  sorrows  at  one  breath, 

Her  lord's  disgrace,  his  father's  death. 

Mine  aged  bosom  she  will  wring 

And  kill  me  with  her  sorrowing, 

Sad  as  a  fair  nymph  left  to  weep 

Deserted  on  Himalaya's  steep. 

For  short  will  be  my  days,  I  ween, 

When  I  with  mournful  eyes  have  seen 

My  Rama  wandering  forth  alone 

And  heard  dear  Sita  sob  and  moan. 

Ah  me  !  my  fond  belief  I  rue. 

Vile  traitress,  loved  as  good  and  true, 

As  one  who  in  his  thirst  has  quaffed, 

Deceived  by  looks,  a  deadly  draught, 


Ah  !  thou  hast  slain  me,  murderess,  while 
Soothing  my  soul  with  wcrds  of  guile, 
As  the  wild  hunter  kills  the  deer 
Lured  from  the  brake  his  song  to  hear. 
Soon  every  honest  tongue  will  fling 
Reproach  on  the  dishonest  king; 
The  people's  scorn  in  every  street 
The  seller  of  his  child  will  meet, 
And  such  dishonour  will  be  mine 
As  whelms  a  Brahman  drunk  with  wine, 
Ah  me,  for  my  unhappy  fate, 
Compelled  thy  words  to  tolerate  ! 
Such  woe  is  sent  to  scourge  a  crime 
Committed  in  some  distant  time. 
For  many  a  day  with  sinful  care 
I  cherished  thee,  thou  sin  and  snare, 
Kept  thee,  unwitting,  like  a  cord 
Destined  to  bind  its  hapless  lord. 
Mine  hours  of  ease  I  spent  with  thee, 
Nor  deemed  my  love  my  death  would  be. 
While  like  a  heedless  child  I  played, 
On  a  black  snake  my  hand  I  laid. 
A  cry  from  every  mouth  will  burst 
And  all  the  world  will  hold  me  curst, 
Because  I  saw  my  high-souled  son 
Unkinged,  unfathered,  and  undone  : 

*  The  king  by  power  of  love  beguiled 
Is  weaker  than  a  foolish  child, 

His  own  beloved  son  to  make 
An  exile  for  a  woman's  sake. 
By  chaste  and  holy  vows  restrained, 
By  reverend  teachers  duly  trained, 
When  he  his  virtue's  fruit  should  taste 
He  falls  by  sin  and  woe  disgraced.' 
Two  words  will  all  his  answer  be 
When  I  pronounce  the  stern  decree, 

*  Hence,  llama,  to  the  woods  away,' 
All  he  will  say  is,  I  obey. 

O,  if  he  would  my  will  withstand 

When  banished  from  his  home  and  land, 

This  were  a  comfort  in  my  woe  ; 

But  he  will  ne'er  do  this,  I  know. 

My  Rama  to  the  forest  fled, 

And  curses  thick  upon  my  head, 

Grim  Death  will  bear  me  hence  away, 

His  world-abominated  prey. 

When  I  am  gone  and  Rama  too, 

How  wilt  thou  thpse  I  love  pursue? 

What  vengeful  sin  will  be  designed 

Against  the  queens  I  leave  behind  ? 

When  thou  hast  slain  her  son  and  me 

Kausalya  soon  will  follow  :  she 

Will  sink  beneath  her  sorrows'  weight, 

And  die  like  me  disconsolate. 

Exult,  Kaikeyi,  in  thy  pride, 

And  let  thy  heart  be  gratified. 

When  thou  my  queens  and  me  hast  burled, 

And  children/ to  the  under  world. 

Soon  wilt  thou  rule  as  empress  o'er 

My  noble  house  unvext  before, 

But  then  to  wild  confusion  left, 


106 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  II. 


Of  Rama  and  of  me  bereft. 
If  Bharat  to  thy  plan  consent 
And  long  for  Rama's  banishment, 
Ne'er  let  his  hands  presume  to  pay 
The  funeral  honours  to  my  clay. 
Vile  foe,  thou  cause,  of  all  mine  ill, 
Obtain  at  last  thy  cursed  will. 
A  widow  soon  shalt  thou  enjoy 
The  sweets  of  empire  with  thy  boy. 
O  Princess,  sure  some  evil  fate 
First  brought  thee  here  to  devastate, 
In  whom  the  night  of  ruin  lies 
Veiled  in  a  consort's  fair  disguise. 
The  scorn  of  all  and  deepest  shame 
Will  long  pursue  my  hated  name, 
And  dire  disgrace  on  me  will  press, 
Misled  by  thee  to  wickedness. 
How  shall  my  Rama,  whom,  before, 
His  elephant  or  chariot  bore, 
Now  with  his  feet,  a  wanderer,  tread 
The  forest  wilds  around  him  spread  ? 
How  shall  my  son,  to  please  whose  taste 
The  deftest  cooks,  with  earrings  graced, 
With  rivalry  and  jealous  care 
The  dainty  meal  and  cates  prepare- 
How  shall  he  now  his  life  sustain 
With  acid  fruit  and  woodland  grain  ? 
He  spends  his  time  unvext  by  cares, 
And  robes  of  precious  texture  wears  ; 
How  shall  he,  with  one  garment  round 
His  limbs  recline  up  n  the  ground? 
Whose  was  this  plan,  this  cruel  thought 
Unheard  till  now,  with  ruin  fraught, 
To  make  thy  son  Ayodhya's  king, 
And  send  my  Rama  wandering  ? 
Shame,  shame  on  women  !  Vile,  untrue, 
Their  selfish  ends  they  still  pursue. 
Not  all  of  womankind  I  mean, 
But  more  than  all  this  wicked  queen. 

0  worthless,  cruel,  selfish  dame, 

I  brought  thee  home,  my  plague  and  woe. 
What  fault  in  me  hast  thou  to  blame, 

Or  in  my  son  who  loves  thee  so? 
Fond  wives  may  from  their  husbands  flee, 

And  fathers  may  their  sons  desert, 
But  all  the  world  would  rave  to  see 

My  Rama  touched  with  deadly  hurt. 

1  joy  Ms  very  step  to  hear, 

As  though  his  godlike  form  I  viewed  ; 
And  when  I  see  my  Rama  near 

I  feel  my  youth  again  renewed. 
There  might  be  life  without  the  sun, 

Yea,  e'en  if  Indra  sent  no  rain, 
But,  were  my  Rama  banished,  none 

"Would,  so  I  think,  alive  remain. 
A  foe  that  longs  my  life  to  take, 

I  brought  thee  here  my  death  to  be, 
Caressed  thee  long,  a  venomed  snake, 

And  through  my  folly  die,  Ah  me  ! 
Bama  and  me  and  Lakshman  slay, 

And  then  with  Bharat  rule  the  state ; 


So  bring  the  kingdom  to  decay, 

And  fawn  on  those  thy  lord  who  hate. 
Plotter  of  woe,  for  evil  bred, 

For  such  a  speech  why  do  not  all 
Thy  teeth  from  out  thy  wicked  head 

Split  in  a  thousand  pieces  fall? 
My  Rama's  words  are  ever  kind, 

He  knows  not  how  to  speak  in  ire  : 
Then  how  canst  thou  presume  to  rind 

A  fault  in  him  whom  all  admire  I 
Yield  to  despair,  go  mad,  or  die, 

Or  sink  within  the  rifted  earth  ; 
Thy  fell  request  will  I  deny, 

Thou  shamer  of  thy  royal  birth. 
Thy  longer  life  I  scarce  can  bear, 

Thou  ruin  of  my  home  and  race, 
Who  wouldst  my  heart  and  heartstrings 
tear, 

Keen  as  a  razor,  false  and  base. 
Mv  life  is  gone,  why  speak  of  joy  / 

For  what,  without  my  son,  were  sweet  ? 
Spare,  lady,  him  thou  canst  destroy  ; 

I  pray  thee  as  I  touch  thy  feet.' 
He  fell  and  wept  with  wild  complaint, 

Heart-struck    by    her    presumptuous 

speeech, 
But  could  not  touch,  so  weak  and  faint, 

The  cruel  feet  he  strove  to  reach. 


CANTO  XIIL 


DA^ARATHA'S   DISTRESS. 

Unworthy  of  his  mournful  fate, 

The  mighty  king,  unfortunate, 

Lay  prostrate  in  unseemly  guise, 

As,  banished  from  the  blissful  skies, 

Yayati,  in  his  evil  day, 

His  merit  all  exhausted,  lay.1 

The  queen,  triumphant  in  the  power 

Won  by  her  beauty's  fatal  dower, 

Still  terrible  and  unsubdued, 

Her  dire  demand  again  renewed : 

'  Great  Monarch,  'twas  thy  boast  till  now 

To  love  the  truth  and  keep  the  vow ; 

Then  wherefore  would  thy  lips  refuse 

The  promised  boon  'tis  mine  to  choose  ? ' 

King  Dasaratha,  thus  addressed, 
With  anger  raging  in  his  breast, 
Sank  for  a  while  beneath  the  pain, 
Then  to  Kaikeyi  spoke  again  : 


1  Only  the  highest  merit  obtains  a  home 
in  heaven  for  ever.  Minor  degrees  of 
merit  procure  only  leases  of  heavenly 
mansions  terminable  after  periods  propor- 
tioned to  the  fund  which  buys  them.  King 
Yayati  went  to  heaven  and  when  his  term 
expired  was  unceremoniously  ejected,  and 
thrown  down  to  earth. 


n  to  XIV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


107 


'  Childless  so  long,  at  length  I  won, 

With  mighty  toil,  from  Heaven  a  son, 

Rama,  the  mighty-armed  ;  and  how 

Shall  I  desert  my  darling  now  ? 

A  scholar  wise,  a  hero  bold, 

Of  patient  mood,  with  wrath  controlled, 

How  can  I  bid  my  Rama  lly, 

My  darling  of  the  lotus  eye  ? 

In  heaven  itself  I  scarce  could  bear, 

When  asking  of  my  Rama  there, 

To  hear  the  Gods  his  griefs  declare, 

And  O,  that  death  would  take  me  hence 

Before  I  wrong  his  innocence  1 ' 

As  thus  the  monarch  wept  and  wailed, 
And  maddening  grief  his  heart  assailed, 
The  sun  had  sought  his  resting-place, 
And  night  was  closing  round  apaoe. 
But  yet  the  moon-crowned  night  could 

bring 

No  comfort  to  the  wretched  king. 
As  still  he  mourned  with  burning  sighs 
And  fixed  his  gaze  upon  the  skies  : 
4  O  Night  whom  starry  fires  adorn, 
T  long  not  for  the  coming  morn. 
Be  kind  and  show  some  mercy:  see, 
My  suppliant  hands  are  raised  to  thee. 
Nay,  rather  fly  with  swifter  pace; 
Ho  longer  would  I  see  the  face 
Of  Queen  Kaikeyi,  cruel,  dread, 
Who  brings  this  woe  upon  mine  head.' 
Again  with  suppliant  hands  he  tried 
To  move  the  queen,  and  wept  and  sighed: 
'  To  me,  unhappy  me,  inclined 
To  good,  sweet  dame,  thou  shouldst  be  kind  ; 
Whose  life  is  well-nigh  fled,  who  cling 
To  thee  for  succour,  me  thy  king. 
This,  only  this,  is  all  my  claim  : 
Have  mercy,  O  my  lovely  dame. 
None  else  have  i  to  take  my  part : 
Have  mercy :  thou  art  good  at  heart. 
Hear,  lady  of  the  soft  black  eye. 
And  win  a  name  that  ne'er  shall  die  : 
Let  Rama  rule  this  glorious  land, 
The  gift  of  thine  imperial  hand, 
O  lady  of  the  dainty  waist, 
With  eyes  and  lips  of  beauty  graced, 
Please  Rama,  me,  each  saintly  priest, 
Bharat,  and  all  from  chief  to  least.' 
She  heard  his  wild  and  mournful  cry, 

She  saw  the  tears  his  speech  that  broke, 
Saw  her  good  hasband's  reddened  eye, 

But,  cruel  still,  no  word  she  spoke. 
His  eyes  upon  her  face  he  bent, 

And  sought  for  mercy,  but  in  vain  : 

She  claimed  his  darling's  banishment, 

He  swooned  upon,  the  ground  again. 


CANTO  XIV. 


RAMA  SUMMONED. 

The  wicked  queen  her  speech  renewed, 
When  rolling  on  the  earth  she  viewed 
Ikshv^ku's  son,  Ayodhya's  king, 
For  his  dear  Rama  sorrowing  : 
*  Why,  by  a  simple  promise  bound, 
Liest  thou  prostrate  on  the  ground, 
As  though  a  grievous  sin  dismayed 
Thy  spirit  ?    Why  so  sore  afraid  ! 
Keep  still  thy  word.    The  righteous  deem 
That  truth,  mid  duties,  is  supreme  : 
And  now  in  truth  and  honour's  name 
I  bid  thee  own  the  binding  claim. 
&aivya,  a  king  whom  earth  obeyed, 
Once  to  a  hawk  a  promise  made, 
Gave  to  the  bird  his  flesh  and  bone, 
And  by  his  truth  made  heaven  his  own.1 
Alarka,  when  a  Brahman  famed 
For  Scripture  lore  his  promise  claimed, 
Tore  from  his  head  his  bleeding  eyes 
And  unreluctant  gave  the  prize. 
His  narrow  bounds  prescribed  restrain 
The  Rivers'  Lord,  the  mighty  main, 
Who,  though  his  waters  boil  and  rave, 
Keeps  faithful  to  the  word  he  gave, 
Truth  all  religion  comprehends, 
Through  all  the  world  its  might  extends: 
In  truth  alone  is  justice  placed, 
On  truth  the  words  of  God  are  based  ; 
A  life  in  truth  unchanging  past 
Will  bring  the  highest  bliss  at  last 
If  thou  the  right  would  still  pursue, 
Be  constant  to  thy  word  and  true  : 
Let  me  thy  promise  fruitful  see, 
For  boons,  O  King,  proceed  from  thee. 
STow  to  preserve  thy  righteous  fame, 
And  yielding  to  my  earnest  claim- 
Thrice  I  repeat  it — send  thy  child, 
Chy  Rama,  to  the  forest  wild. 
3ut  if  the  boon  thou  still  deny, 
Before  thy  face,  forlorn,  I  die.' 
Thus  was  the  helpless  monarch  stung 
y  Queen  Kaikeyi's  fearless  tongue, 
As  Bali  strove  in  vain  to  loose 

limbs  from  Indra's  fatal  noose. 
Dismayed  in  soul  and  pale  with  fear, 
The  monarch,  like  a  trembling  steer 
between  the  chariot's  wheel  and  yoke, 
Again  to  Queen  Kaikeyi  spoke, 
With  sad  eyes  fixt  in  vacant  stare, 
Gathering  courage  from  despair  : 
*  That  hand  I  took,  thou  sinful  dame, 
With  texts,  before  the  sacred  flame, 
Thee  and  thy  son,  I  scorn  and  hate, 
And  all  at  once  repudiate. 


»  See  Additional  Notes,  THE  SUPPLIANT 
DOVE. 


108 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Zook  11. 


The  night  is  fled:  the  dawn  is  near : 
Soon  will  the  holy  priests  be  here 
TO  bid  me  for  the  rite  prepare 
That  with  my  son  the  throne  will  share, 
The  preparation  made  to  grace 
My  Rama  in  his  royal  place— 
With  this,  e'en  this,  my  darling  for 
My  death  the  funeral  flood  shall  pour. 
Thou  and  thy  son  at  least  forbear 
In  offerings  to  my  shade  to  share, 
For  by  the  plot  thy  guile  has  laid 
His  consecration  will  be  stayed. 
This  very  day  how  shall  I  brook 
To  meet  each  subject's  altered  look? 
To  mark  each  gloomy  joyless  brow 
That  was  so  bright  and  glad  but  now  ? ' 
While  thus  the  high-souled  monarch 

spoke 

To  the  stern  queen,  the  morning  broke, 
And  holy  night  had  slowly  fled, 
With  moon  and  stars  engarlanded. 
Yet  once  again  the  cruel  queen 
Spoke  words  in  answer  fierce  and  keen, 
Still  on  her  evil  purpose  bent, 
Wil'd  with  her  rage  and  eloquent : 
*  What  speech  is  this  ?  Such  words  as  these 
Seem  sprung  from  poison-sown  disease. 
Quick  to  thy  noble  Rama  send 
And  bid  him  on  his  sire  attend. 
When  to  my  son  the  rule  is  given  ; 
When  Rama  to  the  woods  is  driven  ; 
When  not  a  rival  copes  with  me, 
From  chains  of  duty  thou  art  free.' 

Thus  goaded,  like  a  generous  steed 
Urged  by  sharp  spurs  to  double  speed, 
'  My  senses  are  astray,'  he  cried, 
'  And  duty's  bonds  my  hands  have  tied. 
I  long  to  see  mine  eldest  son, 
My  virtuous,  my  beloved  one.' 

And  now  the  night  had  past  away  ; 
Out  shone  the  Maker  of  the  Day, 
Bringing  the  planetary  hour 
And  moment  of  auspicious  power. 
Vasishtha,  virtuous,  far  renowned, 
Whose  young  disciples  girt  him  round, 
With  sacred  things  without  delay 
Through  the  fair  city  took  his  way. 
He  traversed,  where  the  people  thronged. 
And  all  for  Rama's  coming  longed, 
The  town  as  fair  in  festive  show 
As  his  who  lays  proud  cities  low.1 
He  reached  the  palace  where  he  heard 
The  mingled  notes  of  many  a  bird, 
Where  crowded  thick  high-honoured  bands 
Of  guards  with  truncheons  in  their  hands. 
Begirt  by  many  a  sage,  elate, 
Vasishtha  reached  the  royal  gate, 


1  Indra,  called  also  Purandara,  Town  - 
destroyer. 


And  standing  by  the  door  he  found 
Sumantra,  for  his  form  renowned, 
The  king's  illustrious  charioteer 
And  noble  counsellor  and  peer. 
To  him  well  skilled  in  every  part 
Of  his  hereditary  art 
Vasishtha  said  :  *  O  charioteer, 
Inform  the  king  that  I  am  here. 
Here  ready  by  my  side  behold 
These  sacred  vessels  made  of  gold, 
Which  water  for  the  rite  contain 
From  Ganga  and  each  distant  main. 
Here  for  installing  I  have  brought 
The  seat  prescribed  of  fig-wood  wrought, 
All  kinds  of  seed  and  precious  scent 
And  many  a  gem  and  ornament ; 
Grain,  sacred  grass,  the  garden's  spoil,  . 
Honey  and  curds  and  milk  and  oil ; 
Eight  radiant  maids,  the  best  of  all 
War  elephants  that  feed  in  stall; 
A  four-horse  car,  a  bow  and  sword, 
A  litter,  men  to  bear  their  lord  ; 
A  white  umbrella  bright  and  fair 
That  with  the  moon  may  well  compare ; 
Two  chouries  of  the  whitest  hair  ; 
A  golden  beaker  rich  and  rare  ; 
A  bull  high-humped  and  fair  to  view, 
Girt  with  gold  bands  and  white  of  hue  ; 
A  four-toothed  steed  with  flowing  mane,  . 
A  throne  which  lions  carved  sustain  ; 
A  tiger's  skin,  the  sacred  fire, 
Fresh  kindled,  which  the  rites  require  ; 
The  best  musicians  skilled  to  play, 
And  dancing-girls  in  raiment  gay  ; 
Kine,  Brahmans,  teachers  fill  the  court, 
And  bird  and  beast  of  purest  sort. 
From  town  and  village,  far  and  near, 
The  noblest  men  are  gathered  here  ; 
Here  merchants  with  their  followers  crowd, 
And  men  in  joyful  converse  loud, 
And  kings  from  many  a  distant  land 
To  view  the  consecration  stand. 
The  dawn  is  come,  the  lucky  day  ; 
Go  bid  the  monarch  haste  away, 
That  now  Prince  Rama  may  obtain 
The  empire,  and  begin  his  reign/ 

Soon  as  he  heard  the  high  behest 
The  driver  of  the  chariot  pressed 
Within  the  chambers  of  the  king, 
His  lord  with  praises  honouring. 
And  none  of  all  the  warders  checked 
His  entrance  for  their  great  respect 
Of  him  well  known,  in  place  so  high, 
Still  fain  their  king  to  gratify. 
He  stood  beside  the  royal  chief, 
Unwitting  of  his  deadly  grief, 
And  with  sweet  words  began  to  sing 
The  praises  of  his  lord  and  king: 
'  As,  when  the  sun  begins  to  rise, 
The  sparkling  sea  delights  our  eyes, 
Wake,  calm  with  gentle  soul,  and  thus 


Canto  XV. 


THE 


109 


Give  rapture,  mighty  King,  to  us. 
As  Matali1  this  self  same  hour 
feang  lauds  of  old  to  Indra's  power, 
"When  he  the  Titan  hosts  o'erthrew, 
So  hymn  I  tliee  with  praises  due. 
The  Vedas,  with  their  kindred  lore, 
Brahma  their  soul- born  Lord  adore, 
Wita  all  the  doctrines  of  the  wise, 
And  bid  him.  as  I  bid  thee,  rise. 
As,  with  the  moon,  the  Lord  of  Day 
Wakes  with  the  splendour  of  his  ray 
Prolifis  Earth,  who  neath  him  lies, 
So,  mighty  King,  I  bid  thee  rise. 
With  b.issful  words,  O  Lord  of  men, 
Rise,  radiant  in  thy  form,  as  when 
The  sun  ascending  darts  his  light 
Froni'Meru'a  everlasting  height. 
May  £iva,  Agni,  Sun,  and  Moon 
Bestow  on  thee  each  choicest  boon, 
Kuvera,  Varun,  Indra  bless 
Kakutstha's  son  with  all  success. 
Awake,  the  holy  night  is  fled, 
The  happy  light  abroad  is  spread  ; 
Awake,  O  best  of  kings,  and  share 
The  glorious  task  that  claims  thy  care. 
The  holy  sage  Vasishtha  waits, 
With  all  his  Brahmans,  at  the  gates. 
Give  thy  decree,  without  delay, 
To  consecrate  thy  son  to-day. 
As  armies,  by  no  captain  led, 
As  flocks  that  feed  unshepherded, 
Such  is  the  fortune  of  a  state 
Without  a  king  and  desolate.' 

Such  were  the  words  the  bard  addressed, 
With  weight  of  sage  advice  impressed  ; 
And,  as  he  heard,  the  hapless  king 
Felt  deeper  yet  his  sorrow's  sting. 
At  length,  all  joy  and  comfort  fled, 
He  raised  his  eyes  with  weeping  red, 
And,  mournful  for  his  Rama's  sake, 
The  good  and  glorious  monarch  spake: 
'  Why  seek  with  idle  praise  to  greet 
The  wretch  for  whom  no  praise  is  meet  ? 
Thy  words  mine  aching  bosom  tear, 
And  plunge  me  deeper  in  despair.' 

Sumantra  heard  the  sad  reply, 
And  saw  his  master's  tearful  eye. 
With  reverent  palm  to  palm  applied 
He  drew  a  little  space  aside. 
Then,  as  the  king,  with  misery  weak, 
With  vain  endeavour  strove  to  speak, 
Kaikeyi,  skilled  in  plot  and  plan, 
To  sage  Sumantra  thus  began : 
'  The  king,  absorbed  in  joyful  thought 
For  hi?  dear  son,  no  rest  has  sought : 
Sleepless  to  him  the  night  has  past, 
And  now  o'erwatched  he  sinks  at  last. 
Then  go,  Sumantra,  and  with  speed 

1  Indra's  charioteer. 


The  glorious  Rama  hither  lead : 
Go,  as  I  pray,  nor  longer  wait ; 
No  time  is  this  to  hesitate.' 

'  How  can  I  go,  O  Lady  fair, 
Unless  my  lord  his  will  declare  ?' 

*  Fain  would  I  see  him,'  cried  the  king, 
.'  Quick,  quick,  my  beauteous  Rama  bring.' 

Then  rose  the  happy  thought  to  cheer 
The  bosom  of  the  charioteer, 
'  The  king,  I  ween,  of  pious  mind, 
The  consecration  has  designed.' 
Sumantra  for  his  wisdom  famed, 
Delighted  with  the  thought  he  framed, 
From  the  calm  chamber,  like  a  bay 
Of  crowded  ocean,  took  his  way. 

He  turned  his  face  to  neither  side, 

But  forth  he  hurried  straight  ; 
Only  a  little  while  he  eyed 
The  guards  who  kept  the  gate. 
He  saw  in  front  a  gathered  crowd 

Of  men  of  every  class, 
Who,  parting  as  he  came,  allowed 

The  charioteer  to  pass. 

CANTO  XV. 
THE  PREPARATIONS. 

There  slept  the  Brahmans,  deeply  read  . 
In  Scripture,  till  the  night  had  fled  ; 
Then,  with  the  royal  chaplains,  they 
Took  each  his  place  in  lon<*  array. 
There  gathered  fast  the  chiefs  of  trade, 
Nor  peer  nor  captain  long  delayed, 
Assembling  all  in  order  due 
The  consecrating  rite  to  view. 

The  morning  dawned  with  cloudless  ray 
On  Pushya's  high  auspicious  day, 
And  Cancer  with  benignant  power 
Looked  down  on  Kama's  natal  hour. 
The  twice-born  chiefs,  with  zealous  heed, 
Made  ready  what  the  rite  would  need. 
The  well-wrought  throne  of  holy  wood 
And  golden  urns  in  order  stood. 
There  was  the  royal  car  whereon 
A  tiger's  skin  resplendent  shone; 
There  water,  brought  for  sprinkling  thence 
Where,  in  their  sacred  confluence, 
Blend  Jumna's  waves  with  Ganga's  tide, 
?rom  many  a  holy  flood  beside, 
From  brook  and  fountain  far  and  near, 
From  pool  and  river,  sea  and  mere. 
And  there  were  honey,  curd,  and  oil, 
Parched  rice  and  grass,  the  garden's  spoil, 
Fresh  milk,  eight  girls  in  bright  attire, 
An  elephant  with  eyes  of  fire  ; 
And  urns  of  gold  and  silver  made, 
With  milky  branches  overlaid, 
All  brimming  from  each  sacred  flood, 
And  decked  with  many  a  lotus  bud. 


110 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Soot  II. 


And  dancing- women  fair  and  free, 
Gay  with  their  gems,  were  there  to  see, 
Who  stood  in  bright  apparel  by 
With  lovely  brow  and  witching  eye. 
White  flashed  the  jewelled  chouri  there, 
And  shone  like  moonbeams  through  the  air; 
T  he  white  umbrella  overhead 
A  pale  and  moonlike  lustre  shed, 
Wont  in  pure  splendour  to  precede, 
And  in  such  rites  the  pomp  to  lead. 
There  stood  the  charger  by  the  side 
Of  the  great  bull  of  snow-white  hide  ; 
There  was  all  music  soft  and  loud, 
And  bards  and  minstrels  swelled  the  crowd. 
For  now  the  monarch  bade  combine 
Each  custom  of  his  ancient  line 
With  every  rite  Ayodhya's  state 
Observed,  her  kings  to  consecrate. 

Then,  summoned  by  the  king's  behest, 
The  multitudes  together  pressed, 
And,  missing  still  the  royal  sire, 
Began,  impatient,  to  inquire : 
4  Who  to  our  lord  will  tidings  bear 
That  all  his  people  throng  the  square? 
Where  is  the  king?  the  sun  is  bright, 
And  all  is  ready  for  the  rite.' 

As  thus  they  spoke,  Sumantra,  tried 
In  counsel,  to  the  chiefs  replied, 
Gathered  from  lands  on  every  side : 
'  To  Rama's  house  I  swiftly  drave, 
For  so  the  king  his  mandate  gave. 
Our  aged  lord  and  R6ma  too 
In  honour  high  hold  all  of  you  : 
I  in  your  words  (be  long  your  days!) 
Will  ask  him  why  he  thus  delays.' 

Thus  spoke  the  peer  in  Scripture  read, 
And  to  the  ladies'  bower  he  sped. 
Quick  through  the  gates  Sumantra  hied, 
Which  access  ne'er  to  him  denied. 
Behind  the  curtained  screen  he  drew, 
Which  veiled  the  chamber  from  the  view. 
In  benediction  loud  he  raised 
His  voice,  and  thus  the  monarch  praised  : 
'Sun,  Moon,  Kuvera,  £iva  bless 
Kakutstha's  son  with  high  success  I 
The  Lords  of  air,  flood,  fire  decree 
The  victory,  my  King,  to  thee ! 
The  holy  night  has  past  away, 
Auspicious  shines  the  morning's  ray. 
Rise,  Lord  of  men,  thy  part  to  take 
In  the  great  rite,  awake  1  awake ! 
Brahmans  and  captains,  chiefs  of  trade, 
All  wait  in  festive  garb  arrayed  ; 
For  thee  they  look  wiih  enger  eyes  : 
O  Raghu's  son,  awake  !  arise' 

To  him  in  holy  Scripture  read, 
Who  hailed  him  thus,  the  monarch  said, 
Upraising  from  his  sleep  his  head : 
'  Go.  Rama  hither  lead  as  thou 
Wast  ordered  by  the  queen  but  now. 


Come,  tell  me  why  my  mandate  laid 
Upon  thee  thus  is  disobeyed. 
Away !  and  Rarna  hither  bring  ; 
I  sleep  not :  make  no  tarrying.' 

Thus  gave  the  king  command  anew  ,' 
Sumantra  from  hia  lord  withdrew  ; 
With  head  in  lowly  reverence  bent, 
And  filled  with  thoughts  of  joy,  he  vent. 
The  royal  street  he  traversed,  where 
Waved  fla^  and  pennon  to  the  air, 
And,  as  with  joy  the  car  he  drove, 
He  let  his  eyes  delighted  rove. 
On  every  side,  where'er  he  came, 
He  heard  glad  words,  their  theme  the  same, 
As  in  their  joy  the  gathered  folk 
Of  Rama  and  the  throning  spoke. 
Then  saw  he  Rama's  palace  bright 
And  vast  as  Mount  Kailasa's  height, 
That  glorious  in  its  beauty  showed 
As  Indra's  own  supreme  abode  : 
With  folding  doors  both  high  and  wide ; 
With  hundred  porches  beautified  : 
Where  golden  statues  towering  rose 
O'er  gemmed  and  coral  led  porticoes  : 
Bright  like  a  cave  in  Meru's  side, 
Or  clouds  through  Autumn's  sky  that  ride: 
Festooned  with  length  of  bloomy  twine, 
Flashing  with  pearls  and  jewels'  shine, 
While  sandal-wood  and  aloe  lent 
The  mingled  riches  of  their  scent ; 
With  all  the  odorous  sweets  that  fill 
The  breezy  heights  of  Dardar's  hill. 
There  by  the  gate  the  Saras  screamed. 
And     shrill-toned     peacocks'     plumage 

gleamed. 

Its  floors  with  deftest  art  inlaid, 
Its  sculptured  wolves  in  gold  arrayed, 
With  its  bright  sheen  the  palace  took 
The  mind  of  man  and  chained  the  look, 
For  like  the  sun  and  moon  it  glowed, 
And  mocked  Kuvera's  loved  abode. 
C  ircling  the  walls  a  crowd  he  viewed 
Who  stood  in  reverent  attitude, 
With  throngs  of  countrymen  who  sought 
Acceptance  of  the  gifts  they  brought. 
The  elephant  was  stationed  there, 
Appointed  Rama's  self  to  bear; 
Adorned  with  pearls,  his  brow  and  cheek 
Were  sandal-dyed  in  many  a  streak, 
While  he,  in  stature,  bulk,  and  pride, 
With  Indra's  own  Aiiavat1  vied. 
Sumantra,  borne  by  coursers  fleet, 
Flashing  a  radiance  o'er  the  street, 

To  Rama's  palace  flew, 
And  all  who  lined  the  royal  road, 
Or  thronged  the  prince's  rich  abode, 

Rejoiced  as  near  he  drew. 
And  with  delight  his  bosom  swelled 
As  onward  still  his  course  he  held 


1  The  elephant  of  India. 


Canto  XVL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Ill 


Through  many  a  sumptuous  court 
Like  Indra's  palace  nobly  made, 
Where  peacocks  revelled  in  the  shade, 

And  beasts  of  silvan  sort. 
Through  many  a  hall  and  chamber  wide, 
That  with  Kailasa's  splendour  vied, 

Or  mansions  of  the  Blest, 
While  Rama's  friends,  beloved  and  tried, 
Before  his  coming  stepped  aside, 

Still  on  Sumantra  pressed. 
He  reached  the  chamber  door,  where  stood 
Around  his  followers  young  and  good, 
Bard,  minstrel,  charioteer. 
Well  skilled  the  tuneful  chords  to  sweep, 
With  soothing  strain  to  lull  to  sleep, 

Or  laud  their  master  dear. 
Then,  like  a  dolphin  darting  through 
Unfathomed  depths  of  ocean's  blue 

With  store  of  jewels  decked, 
Through  crowded  halls  that  rock-like  rose, 
Or  as  proud  hills  where  clouds  repose, 

Sumantra  sped  unchecked — 
Halls  like  the  glittering  domes  on  high 
Beared  for  the  dwellers  of  the  sky 

By  heavenly  architect. 


CANTO  XVI. 


RAMA  SUMMONED. 

So  through  the  crowded  inner  door 
Sumantra,  skilled  in  ancient  lore, 
On  to  the  private  chambers  pressed 
Which  stood  apart  from  all  the  rest. 
There  youthful  warriors,  true  and  bold, 
Whose  ears  were  ringed  with  polished  gold. 
All  armed  with  trusty  bows  and  darts, 
Watched  with  devoted  eyes  andShearts. 
And  hoary  men,  a  faithful  train, 
Whose  aged  hands  held  staves  of  cane, 
The  ladies'  guard,  apparelled  fair 
In  red  attire,  were  stationed  there. 
Soon  as  they  saw  Sumantra  nigh, 
Each  longed  his  lord  to  gratify, 
And  from  his  seat  beside  the  door 
Up  sprang  each  ancient  servitor. 
Then  to  the  warders  quickly  cried 
The  skilled  Sumantra,  void  of  pride  : 
'Tell  Rama  that  the  charioteer 
Sumantra  waits  for  audience  here/ 
The  ancient  men  with  one  accord 
Seeking  the  pleasure  of  their  lord, 
Passing  with  speed  the  chamber  door 
To  Rama's  ear  the  message  bore. 
Forthwith  the  prince  with  duteous  heed 
Called  in  the  messenger  with  speed, 
For  'twas  his  sire's  command,  he  knew, 
That  sent  him  for  the  interview. 
Like  Lord_Kuvera,  well  arrayed, 


He  pressed  a  couch  of  gold, 
Wherefrom  a  covering  of  brocade 

Hung  down  in  many  a  fold. 
Oil  and  the  sandal's  fragrant  dust 

Had  tinged  his  body  o'er 
Dark  as  the  stream  the  spearman's  thrust 

Drains  from  the  wounded  boar. 
Him  Sita  watched  with  tender  care, 

A  chouri  in  her  hand, 
As  Chitra,1  ever  fond  in  fair, 

Beside  the  Moon  will  stand. 
Him  glorious  with  unborrowed  light, 
A  liberal  lord  of  sunlike  joight, 
Sumantra  hailed  in  words  like  these, 
Well  skilled  in  gentle  courtesies, 
As,  with  joined  hands  in  reverence  raised, 
Upon  the  beauteous  prince  he  gazed  : 
1  Happy  Kausalya  !  Blest  is  she, 
The  Mother  of  a  son  like  thee. 
Now  rise,  O  Rama,  speed  away, 
Go  to  thy  sire  without  delay  ; 
For  he  and  Queen  Kaikeyi  seek 
And  interview  with  thee  to  speak.1 

The  lion-lord  of  men,  the  best 
Of  splendid  heroes,  thus  addressed, 
To  Sita  spake  with  joyful  cheer  : 
'  The  king  and  queen,  my  lady  dear, 
Touching  the  throning,  for  my  saka 
Some  salutary  counsel  take. 
The  lady  of  the  full  bla  -k  eye 
Would  fain  her  husband  gratify, 
And,  all  his  purpose  understood, 
Counsels  the  monarch  to  my  good. 
A  happy  fate  is  mine,  I  ween, 
When  he,  consulting  with  his  queen, 
Sumantra  on  this  charge,  intent 
Upon  my  gain  and  good,  has  sent. 
An  envoy  of  so  noble  sort 
Well  suits  the  splendour  of  the  court. 
The  consecration  rite  this  day 
Will  join  me  in  imperial  sway. 
To  meet  the  lord  of  earth,  for  so 
His  order  bids  me,.  I  will  go. 
Thou,  lady,  here  in  comfort  stay, 
And  with  thy  maidens  rest  or  play/ 

Thus  Rama  spake.    For  meet  reply 
The  lady  of  the  large  black  eye 
Attended  to  the  door  her  lord, 
And  blessings  on  his  head  implored  : 
'The  majesty  and  royal  state 
Which  holy  Brahmans  venerate, 
The  consecration  and  the  rite 
Which  sanctities  the  ruler's  might, 
And  all  imperial  powers  should  be 
Thine  by  thy  father's  high  decree, 
As  He,  the  worlds  who  formed  and  planned, 
The  kingship  gave  to  Indra's  hand. 


1  A  star  in  the  spike  of  Virgo  :  hence 
the  name  of  the  month  Chaitra,  or  Chai* 


112 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  n 


Then  shall  mine  eyes  my  king  adore 
When  iustral  rites  and  fast  are  o'er, 
And  black  deer's  skin  and  roebuck's  horn 
Thy  lordly  limbs  and  hand  adorn. 
May  He  whose  hands  the  thunder  wield 
Be  in  the  east  thy  guard  and  shield  ; 
May  Yama's  care  the  south  befriend, 
And  Varun's  arm  the  west  defend  ; 
And  let  Kuvera.  Lord  of  Gold, 
The  north  with  firm  protection  hold.' 

Then  Ratna  spoke  a  kind  farewell, 
And  hailed  the  blessings  as  they  fell 
From  Sita's  gentle  lips  ;  and  then, 
As  a  young  lion  from  his  den 
Descends  the  mountain's  stony  side, 
So  from  the  hall  the  hero  hied. 
First  Lakshman  at  the  door  he  viewed 
Who  stood  in  reverent  attitude, 
Then  to  the  central  court  he  pressed 
Where  watched  the  friends  who  loved  him 

best. 

To  all  his  dear  companions  there 
He  gave  kind  looks  and  greeting  fair. 
On  to  the  lofty  car  that  glowed 
Like  fire  the  royal  tiger  strode. 
Bright  as  himself  its  silver  shone  : 
A  tiger's  skin  was  laid  thereon. 
With  cloudlike  thunder,  as  it  rolled, 
It  flashed  with  gems  and  burnished  gold, 
And,  like  the  sun's  meridian  blaze, 
Blinded  the  eye  that  none  could  gaze. 
Like  youthful  elephants,  tall  and  strong, 
Fleet  coursers  whirled  the  car  along : 
In  such  a  car  the  Thousand-eyed 
Borne  by  swift  horses  loves  to  ride. 
So  like  Parjanya,1  when  he  flies 
Thundering  through  the  autumn  skies, 
The  hero  from  the  palace  sped, 
As  leaves  the  moon  some  cloud  o'erhead. 
Still  close  to  Rama  Lakshman  kept, 
Behind  him  to  the  car  he  leapt, 
And,  watching  with  fraternal  care, 
Waved  the  long  chouri's  silver  hair, 
As  from  the  palace  gate  he  came 
Up  rose  the  tumult  of  acclaim, 
While  loud  huzza  and  jubilant  shout 
Pealed  from  the  gathered  myriads  out. 
Then  elephants,  like  mountains  vast, 
And  steeds  who  all  their  kind  surpassed, 
Followed  their  lord  by  hundreds,  nay 
By  thousands,  led  in  long  array. 
First  marched  a  band  of  warriors  trained, 
With  sandal  dust  and  aloe  stained  ; 
Well  armed  was  each  with  sword  and  bow, 
And  every    breast  with  hope  aglow, 
And  ever,  as  they  onward  went, 

Shouts  from  the  warrior  train, 
And  every  sweet-toned  instrument 

Prolonged  the  minstrel  strain. 


^he  Bain-God. 


On  passed  the  tamer  of  his  foes, 
While  well  clad  dames,  in  crowded  rows, 
Each  chamber  lattice  thronged  to  view, 
And  chaplets  on  the  hero  threw. 
Then  all,  of  peerless  face  and  limb, 
Sang  Rama's  praise  for  love  of  him, 
And  blent  their  voices,  soft  and  sweet, 
From  palace  high  and  crowded  street : 

*  Now,  sure,  Kausah  a's  heart  must  swell 
To  see  the  son  she  loves  so  well, 
Thee.Rama,  thee,  her  joy  and  pride, 
Triumphant  o'er  the  realm  preside.' 
Then — for  they  knew  his  bride  most  fair 
Of  all  who  part  the  soft  dark  hair, 

His  love,  his  life,  possessed  the  whole 
Of  her  young  hero's  heart  and  soul  : — 

*  Be  sure  the  lady's  fate  repays 
Some  mighty  vow  of  ancient  days,1 
For  blest  with  Rama's  love  is  she 
As,  with  the  Moon's,  sweet  Rohini.'2 

Such  were  the  witching  words  that  came 
From  lips  of  many  a  peerless  dame 
Crowding  the  palace  roofs  to  greet 
The  hero  as  he  gained  the  street. 

CANTO  XVII. 


KAMA'S  APPROACH. 

As  Rama,  rendering  blithe  and  gay 
His  loving  friends,  pursued  his  way, 
He  saw  on  either  hand  a  press 
Of  mingled  people  numberless. 
The  royal  street  he  traversed,  where 
Incense  of  aloe  filled  the  air, 
Where  rose  high  palaces,  that  vied 
With  paly  clouds,  on  either  side  ; 
With  flowers  of  myriad  colours  graced, 
And  food  for  every  varied  taste, 
Bright  as  the  glowing  path  o'erhead 
Which  feet  of  Gods  celestial  tread. 
Loud  benedictions,  sweet  to  hear, 
From  countless  voices  soothed  his  ear. 
While  he  to  each  gave  due  salute 
His  place  and  dignity  to  suit: 
*  Be  thou.'  the  joyful  people  cried, 
1  Be  thou  our  guardian,  lord  arid  guide. 
Throned  and  anointed  king  to-day, 
Thy  feet  set  forth  upon  the  way 
Wherein,  each  honoured  as  a  God, 
Thy  fathers  and  forefathers  trod. 
Thy  sire  and  his  have  graced  the  throne, 
And  loving  care  to  us  have  shown  : 
Thus  blest  shall  we  and  ours  remain, 
Yea  still  more  blest  fn  Rama's  reign. 


1  In  a  former  life. 

a  One  of  the  lunar  asterisms,  represented 
as  the  favourite  wife  of  the  Moon.  See 
p.  4,  note, 


Canto  XV1IL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


113 


No  more  of  dainty  fare  we  need, 
And  but  one  cherished  object  heed, 
That  we  may  see  our  prince  to-day 
Invested  with  imperial  sway.' 

Such  were  the  words  and  pleasant  speech 
That  Rama  heard,  unmoved,  from  each 
Of  the  dear  friends  around  him  spread, 
As  onward  through  the  street  he  sped. 
For  none  could  turn  his  eye  or  thought 
From  the  dear  form  his  glances  sought, 
With  fruitless  ardour  forward  cast 
Even  when  Raghu's  son  had  past. 
And  he  who  saw  not  Rama  nigh, 
Nor  caught  a  look  from  Rama's  eye, 
A  mark  for  scorn  and  general  blame, 
Reproached  himself  in  bitter  shame. 
For  to  each  class  his  equal  mind 
With  sympathy  and  love  inclined 
Most  fully  of  the  princely  four, 
So  greatest  love  to  him  they  bore, 

His  circling  course  the  hero  bent 
Round  shrine  and  altar,  reverent, 
Bound  homes  of  Gods,  where  cross-roads 

met, 

Where  many  a  sacred  tree  was  set. 
Near  to  his  father's  house  he  drew 
Like  Indra's  beautiful  to  view, 
And  with  the  light  his  glory  gave 
Within  the  royal  palace  drave. 
Through  three  broad  courts,  where  bow- 
men kept 

Their  watch  and  ward,  his  coursers  swept, 
Then  through  the  two  remaining  went 
On  foot  that  prince  preeminent. 
Through  all  the  courts  the  hero  passed, 
And  gained  the  ladies'  bower  at  last ; 
Then  through  the  door  alone  withdrew, 
And  left  without  his  retinue. 
When  thus  the  monarch's  noble  boy 

Had  gone  his  sire  to  meet, 
The  multitude,  elate  with  joy, 

Stood  watching  in  the  street, 
And  his  return  with  eager -eyes 

Expected  at  the  gates, 
As  for  his  darling  moon  to  rise 
The  King  of  Rivers1  waits. 

CANTO  XVIII. 


THE  SENTENCE. 

With  hopeless  eye  and  pallid  mien 
There  sat  the  monarch  with  the  queen. 
His  father's  feet  with  reverence  due 
He  clasped,  arid  touched  Kaikeyi's  too. 
The  king,  with  eyes  still  brimming  o'er, 
Cried  Rama  1  and  could  do  no  more. 


The  Sea. 


His  voice  was  choked,  his  -eye  was  dim, 
He  could  not  speak  or  look  on  him. 
Then  sudden  fear  made  Rama  shake 
As  though  his  foot  had  roused  a  snake, 
Soon  as  his  eyes  had  seen  the  change 
So  mournful,  terrible,  and  strange. 
For  there,  his  reason  well-nigh  fled, 
Sighing,  with  soul  disquieted, 
To  torturing  pangs  a  prey, 
Dismayed,  despairing,  and  distraught,  , 
In  a  fierce  whirl  of  wildering  thought 

The  hapless  monarch  lay, 
Like  Ocean  wave-engarlanded 
Storm-driven  from  his  tranquil  bed, 

The  Sun-God  in  eclipse, 
Or  like  a  holy  seer,  heart- stirred 
With  anguish,  when  a  lying  word 

Has  passed  his  heedless  lips. 
The  sight  of  his  dear  father,  pained 
With  woe  and  misery  unexplained, 

Filled  Rama  with  unrest, 
As  Ocean's  pulses  rise  and  swell 
When  the  great  moon  he  loves  so  well 

Shines  full  upon  his  breast. 
So  grieving  for  his  father's  sake, 
To  his  own  heart  the  hero  spake  : 
'  Why  will  the  king  my  sire  to-day 
No  kindly  word  of  greeting  say  ? 
At  other  times,  though  wroth  he  be. 
His  eyes  grow  calm  that  look  on  me. 
Then  why  does  anguish  wring  his  brow 
To  see  his  well-beloved  now  ? ' 
Sick  and  perplexed,  distraught  with  woe, 
To  Queen  Kaikeyi  bowing  low, 
While  pallor  o'er  his  bright  cheek  spread, 
With  humble  reverence  he  said : 
•  What  have  I  done,  unknown,  amiss 
To  make  my  father  wroth  like  this? 
Declare  it,  O  dear  Queen,  and  win 
His  pardon  for  my  heedless  sin. 
Why  is  the  sire  I  ever  find 
Filled  with  all  love  to-day  unkind? 
With  eyes  cast  down  and  pallid  cheek 
This  day  alone  he  will  not  speak. 
Or  lies  he  prostrate  neath  the  blow 
Of  tierce  disease  or  sudden  woe  ? 
For  all  our  bliss  is  dashed  with  pain, 
And  joy  unmixt  is  hard  to  gain. 
Does  stroke  of  evil  fortune  smite 
Dear  Bharat,  charming  to  the  sight,  , 
Or  on  the  brave  Satrughna  fall, 
Or  consorts,  for  he  loves  them  all  ? 
Against  his  words  when  I  rebel, 
Or  fail  to  please  the  monarch  well, 
When  deeds  of  mine  his  soul  offend, 
That  hour  I  pray  my  life  may  end. 
How  should  a  man  to  him  who  gave 
His  being  and  his  life  behave? 
The  sire  to  whom  he  owes  his  birth 
Should  be  his  deity  on  earth. 
Hast  thou,  by  pride  and  folly  moved, 


114 


TEE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  It 


With  bitter  taunt  the  king  reproved  ? 
Has  scorn  of  thine  or  cruel  jest 
To  passion  stirred  his  gentle  breast  ? 
Speak  truty,  Queen,  that  I  may  know 
What  cause  has  changed  the  monarch  so.' 

Thus  by  the  high  •  sou  led  prince  addressed, 
Of  Kagbu's  sons  the  chief  and  best, 
She  cast  all  ruth  and  shame  aside, 
And  bold  with  greedy  words  replied  : 
4  Not  wrath,  O  Kama,  stirs  the  king, 
Nor  misery  stabs  with  sudden  sting  ; 
One  thought  that  fills  his  soul  has  he, 
But  dares  not  speak  for  fear  of  thee. 
Thou  art  so  dear,  his  lips  refrain 
From  words  that  might  his  darling  pain. 
But  thou,  as  duty  bids,  must  still 
The  promise  of  thy  sire  fulfil. 
He  who  to  me  in  days  gone  by 
Touch safed  a  boon  with  honours  high, 
Dares  now,  a  king,  his  word  regret, 
And  caitiff-like  disowns  the  debt. 
The  lord  of  men  his  promise  gave 
To  grant  the  boon  that  I  might  crave, 
And  now  a  bridge  would  idly  throw 
When  the  dried  stream  has  ceased  to  flow, 
His  faith  the  monarch  must  not  break 
In  wrath,  or  e'en  for  thy  dear  sake. 
From  faith,  as  well  the  righteous  know, 
Our  virtue  and  our  merits  flow. 
Now,  be  they  good  or  be  they  ill, 
Do  thou  thy  father's  words  fulfil : 
Swear  that  his  promise  shall  not  fail, 
And  I  will  tell  thee  all  the  tale. 
Yes,  Rama,  when  I  hear  that  thou 
Hast  bound  thee  by  thy  father's  vow, 
Then,  not  till  then,  my  lips  shall  speak, 
Nor  will  he  tell  what  boon  I  seek.' 

He  heard,  and  with  a  troubled  breast 
This  answer  to  the  queen  addressed  : 
*  Ah  me,  dear  lady,  canst  thou  deem 
That  words  like  these  thy  lips  beseem? 
I.  at  the  bidding  of  my  sire, 
Would  cast  my  body  to  the  fire, 
A  deadly  draught  of  poison  drink, 
Or  in  the  waves  of  ocean  eink: 
If  he  command,  it  shall  be  done,— 
My  father  and  my  king  in  one. 
Then  speak  and  let  me  know  the  thing 
So  longed  for  by  my  lord  the  king. 
It  shall  be  done  :  let  this  suffice  ; 
Ham a* ne'er  makes  a  promise  twice.' 

He  ended.    To  the  princely  youth 
Who  loved  the  right  and  spoke  the  truth, 
Cruel,  abominable  came 
The  answer  of  the  ruthless  dame  : 
'  When  Gods  and  Titans  fought  of  yore, 
Transfixed  with  darts  and  bathed  in  gore 
Two  boons  to  me  thy  father  gave 
For  the  dear  life  'twas  mine  to  save, 
Of  him  I  claim  the  ancient  debt, 
That  Bharat  on  the  throne  be  set, 


And  thou,  O  Rama,  go  this  day 
To  Dandakff orest  far  away. 
Now,  &ama,  if  thou  wilt  maintain 
Thy  father's  faith  without  a  stain, 
And  thine  own  truth  and  honour  clear, 
Then,  best  of  men,  my  bidding  hear. 
Do  thou  thy  father's  word  obey, 
Nor  from  the  pledge  he  gave  me  stray. 
Thy  life  in  Dandak  forest  spend 
Till  nine  long  years  and  five  shall  end. 
Upon  my  Bharat 's  princely  head 
Let  consecrating  drops  be  shed, 
With  all  the  royal  pomp  for  thee 
Made  ready  by  the  king's  decree. 
Seek  Dandak  forest  and  resign 
Rites  that  would  make  the  empire  thine. 
For  twice  seven  years  of  exile  wear 
The  coat  of  bark  and  matted  hair. 
Then  in  thy  stead  let  Bharat  reiga 
Lord  of  his  royal  sire's  domain, 
Rich  in  the  fairest  gems  that  shine, 
Cars,  elephants,  and  steeds,  and  kine. 
The  monarch  mourns  thy  altered  fata 
And  vails  his  brow  compassionate  : 
Bowed  down  by  bitter  grief  he  lies 
And'dares  not  lift  to  thine  his  eyes. 
Obey  his  word  :  be  firm  and  brave, 
And  with  great  truth  the  monarch  save.' 

While  thus  with  cruel  words  she  spoke. 

No  grief  the  noble  youth  betrayed; 
But  forth  the  father's  anguish  broke, 

At  his  dear  Rama's  lot  dismayed. 


CANTO  XIX. 
RAMA'S  PROMISE. 

Calm  and  unmoved  by  threatened  woe 
The  noble  conqueror  of  the  foe 
Answered  the  cruel  words  she  spoke, 
Nor  quailed  beneath  the  murderous  stroke : 
'  Yea,  for  my  father's  promise  sake 
I  to  the  wood  my  way  will  take, 
And  dwell  a  lonely  exile  there 
In  hermit  dress  with  matted  hair. 
One  thing  alone  I  fain  would  learn. 
Why  is  the  king  this  day  so  stern  ? 
Why  is  the  scourge  of  foes  so  cold, 
Nor  gives  me  greeting  as  of  old  ? 
Now  let  not  anger  flush  thy  cheek  : 
Before  thy  face  the  truth  1  speak. 
In  hermit's  coat  with  matted  hail- 
To  the  wild  wood  will  I  repair. 
How  can  I  fail  his  will  to  do, 
Friend,  master,  grateful  sovereign  too  ? 
One  only  pang  consumes  my  breast, 
That  his  own  lips  have  not  expressed 
His  will,  nor  made  his  longing  known 
That  Bharat  should  ascend  the  throne. 


Vanto  XIX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


115 


l.\>  Bharat  I  would  yield  my  wife, 

My  realm  and  wealth,  mine  own  dear  life. 

Unasked  I  fain  would  yield  them  all ; 

More  gladly  at  my  father's  call, 

More  gladly  when  the  gift  may  free 

Bis  honour  and  bring  joy  to  thee. 

Ihus,  lady,  his  sad  heart  release 

From  the  sore  shame,  and  give  him  peace, 

But  tell  me,  O,  I  pray  thee,  why 

rhe  lord  of  men,  with  downcast  eye, 

Lies  prostrate  thus,  and  one  by  one 

Down  his  pale  cheek  the  tear-drops  run. 

Let  couriers  to  thy  father  speed 

On  horses  of  the  swiftest  breed, 

And,  by  the  mandate  of  the  king, 


To  Dandak's  pathless  wild  will  fare, 
For  twice  seven  years  an  exile  there.' 

When  Kama  thus  had  made  reply 
Kaikeyi's  heart  with  joy  beat  high. 
She,  trusting  to  the  pledge  she  held, 
The  youth's  departure  thus  impelled  : 
'  'Tis  well.    Be  messengers  despatched 
On  coursers  ne'er  for  fleetness  matched, 
To  seek  my  father's  home  and  lead 
My  Bharat  back  with  all  their  speed. 
And,  Rarna,  as  I  ween  that  thou 
Wilt  scarce  endure  to  linger  now, 
So  surely  it  were  wise  and  good 
This  hour  to  journey  to  the  wood. 
And  if,  with  shame  cast  down  and  weak, 
No  word  to  thee  the  king  can  speak. 
Forgive,  and  from  thy  mind  dismiss 
A  trifle  in  an  hour  like  this. 
But  till  thy  feet  in  rapid  haste 
Have  left  the  city  for  the  waste, 
And  to  the  distant  forest  fled, 
He  will  not  bathe  nor  call  for  bread.' 

*  Woe!  woe  1'  from  the  sad  monarch  burst, 
In  surging  floods  of  grief  immersed  ; 
Then  swooning,  with  his  wits  astray, 
Upon  the  gold-wrought  couch  he  Jay. 
And  Rama  raised  the  aged  king  : 
But  the  stern  queen,  unpitying, 
Checked  not  her  needless  words,  nor  spared 
The  hero  for  all  speed  prepared, 
But  urged  him  with  her  bitter  tongue 
Like  a  good  horse  with  lashes  stung. 
She  spoke  her  shameful  speech.    Serene 
He  heard  the  fury  of  the  queen, 
And  to  her  words  so  vile  and  dread 
Gently,  unmoved  in  mind,  he  said  : 
' 1  would  not  in  this  world  remain 
A  grovelling  thrall  to  paltry  gain, 
But  duty's  path  would  fain  pursue, 
True  as  the  saints  themselves  are  true. 
From  death  itself  I  would  not  fly 
My  father's  wish  to  gratify. 
What  deed  soe'er  his  loving  son 


May  do  to  please  him,  think  it  done. 
Amid  all  duties,  Queen,  I  count 
This  duty  first  and  paramount, 
That  sons,  obedient,  aye  fulfil 
Their  honoured  fathers'  word  and  will. 
Without  his  word,  if  thou  decree, 
Forth  to  the  forest  will  I  flee, 
And  there  shall  fourteen  years  be  spent 
Mid  lonely  wilds  in  banishment. 
Methinks  thou  couldst  not  hope  to  find 
One  spark  of  virtue  in  my  mind, 
If  thou,  whose  wish  is  still  my  lord, 
Hast  for  this  grace  the  king  implored, 
This  day  I  go,  but,  ere  we  part, 
Must  chew  my  Site's  tender  heart, 
To  my  dear  mother  bid  farewell ', 
Then  to  the  woods,  a  while  to  dwell. 
With  thee,  O  Queen,  the  care  must  rest 
That  Bharat  hear  his  sire's  behest, 
And  guard  the  land  with  righteous  sway, 
For  such  the  law  that  lives  for  aye.' 

In  speechless  woe  the  father  heard, 
Wept  with  loud  cries,  but  spoke  no  word* 
Then  Rama  touched  his  senseless  feet, 
And  hers,  for  honour  most  unmeet ; 
Round  both  his  circling  steps  he  bent, 
Then  from  the  bower  the  hero  went. 
Soon  as  he  reached  the  gate  he  found 
His  dear  companions  gathered  round. 
Behind  him  came  Sumitra's  child 
With  weeping  eyes  so  sad  and  wild. 
Then  saw  he  all  that  rich  array 
Of  vases  for  the  glorious  day. 
Round  them  with  reverent  steps  he  paced, 
Nor  vailed  his  eye,  nor  moved  in  haste. 
The  loss  of  empire  could  not  dim 
The  glory  that  encompassed  him. 
So  will  the  Lord  of  Cooling  Rays1 
On  whom  the  world  delights  to  gaze, 
Through  the  great  love  of  all  retain 
Sweet  splendour  in  the  time  of  wane. 
Now  to  the  exile's  lot  resigned 
He  left  the  rule  of  earth  behind  : 
As  though  all  worldly  cares  he  spurned 
No  trouble  was  in  him  discerned. 
The  chouries  that  for  kings  are  used, 
And  white  umbrella,  he  refused, 
Dismissed  his  chariot  and  his  men, 
And  every  friend  and  citizen. 
He  ruled 'his  senses,  nor  betrayed 
The  grief  that  on  his  bosom  weighed, 
And  thus  his  mother's  mansion  sought 
To  tell  the  mournful  news  he  brought. 
Nor  could  the  gay-clad  people  there 
Who  flocked  round  Rama  true  and  fair, 
One  sign  of  altered  fortune  trace 
Upon  the  splendid  hero's  face. 
Nor  had  the  chieftain,  mighty-armed, 
Lost  the  bright  look  all  hearts  that  charm  ed, 

i  The  Moon. 


116 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


As  e'en  from  autumn  moons  is  thrown 
A  splendour  which  is  all  their  own. 
With  his  sweet  voice  the  hero  spoke 
Saluting  all  the  gathered  folk, 
Then  righteous-souled  and  great  in  fame 
Close  to  his  mother's  house  he  came. 
Lakshman  the  brave,  his  brother's  peer 
In  princely  virtues,  followed  near, 
Sore  troubled,  but  resolved  to  show 
No  token  of  his  secret  woe. 
Thus  to  the  palace  Rama  went 

Where  all  were  gay  with  hope  and  joy; 
But  well  he  knew  the  dire  event 

That  hope  would  mar,  that  bliss  destroy. 
So  to  his  grief  he  would  not  yield 

Lest  the  sad  change  their  hearts  might 

rend, 
And,  the  dread  tiding  unrevealed, 

Spared  from  the  bio  w  each  faithful  friend. 

CANTO  XX. 


KAUg ALGA'S  LAMENT. 

But  in  the  monarch's  palace,  when 
Sped' from  the  bower  that  lord  of  men, 
Up  from  the  weeping  women  went 
A  mighty  \vail  and  wild  lament  : 
•  Ah,  he  who  ever  freely  did 
His  duty  ere  his  sire  could  bid, 
Our  refuge  and  our  sure  defence, 
This  day  will  go  an  exile  hence. 
He  on  Kausalya  loves  to  wait 
Most  tender  and  affectionate, 
And  as  he  treats  his  mother,  thus 
From  childhood  has  he  treated  us. 
On  themes  that  sting  he  will  not  speak, 
And  when  reviled  is  calm  and  meek. 
He  soothes  the  angry,  heals  offence : 
He  goes  to-day  an  exile  hence. 
Our  lord  the  king  is  most  unwise, 
And  looks  on  life  with  doting  eyes, 
Who  in  his  folly  casts  away 
The  world's  protection,  hope,  and  stay.' 
Thus  in  their  woe,  like  kine  bereaved 
Of  their  young  calves, l  the  ladies  grieved, 


1  The  comparison  may  to  a  European 
reader  seem  a  homely  one,  But  Spenser 
likens  an  infuriate  woman  to  a  cow 

'  Thatisberobbedof  her  youngling  dere.' 
Shakspeare  also  makes  King  Henry  VI. 
compare  himself  to  the  calf's  mother  that 

'Runs  lowing  up  and  down,  Looking 
the  way  her  harmless  young  one  went.' 
*  Cows,'  says  De  Quincey,  '  are  amongst 
the  gentlest  of  breathing  creatures  ;  none 
show  more  passionate  tenderness  to  their 
young,  when  deprived  of  them,  and,  in 
short,  I  am  not  ashamed  to  profess  a  deep 
love  for  these  gentle  creatures.' 


And  ever  as  they  wept  and  wailed 
With  keen  reproach  the  king  assailed. 
Their  lamentation,  mixed  with  tears, 
Smote  with  new  grief  the  monarch's  ears, 
Who,  burnt  with  woe  too  great  to  bear, 
Fell  on  his  couch  and  fainted  there. 

Then  Rama,  smitten  with  the  pain 
His  heaving  heart  could  scarce  restrain, 
Groaned  like  an  elephant  and  strode 
With  Lakshman  to  the  queen's  abode. 
A  warder  there,  whose  hoary  eld 
In  honour  high  by  all  was  held, 
Guarding  the  mansion,  sat  before 
The  portal,  girt  with  many  more. 
Swift  to  their  feet  the  warders  sprang, 
And  loud  the  acclamation  rang, 
Hail,  Rama  !  as  to  him  they  bent, 
Of  victor  chiefs  preeminent. 
One  court  he  passed,  and  in  the  next 
Saw,  masters  of  each  Veda  text, 
A  crowd  of  Brahmans,  good  and  sage, 
Dear  to  the  king  for  lore  and  age, 
To  these  he  bowed  his  reverent  head, 
Thence  to  the  court  beyond  he  sped. 
Old  dames  and  tender  girls,  their  care 
To  keep  the  doors,  were  stationed  there. 
And  all,  when  Rama  came  in  view, 
Delighted  to  the  chamber  flew, 
To  bear  to  Queen  Kausalya  s  ear 
The  tidings  that  she  loved  to  hear. 
The  queen,  on  rites  and  prayer  intent, 
In  careful  watch  the  night  had  spent, 
And  at  the  dawn,  her  son  to  aid, 
To  Vishnu  holy  offerings  made. 
Firm  in  her  vows,  serenely  glad, 
In  robes  of  spotless  linen  clad, 
As  texts  prescribe,  with  grace  implored, 
Her  offerings  in  the  fire  she  poured. 
Within  her  splendid  bower  he  came, 
And  saw  her  feed  the  sacred  flame 
There  oil,  and  grain,  and  vases  stood, 
With  wreaths,  and  curds,  and  cates,  and 

wood, 

And  milk,  and  sesamum,  and  rice, 
The  elements  of  sacrifice. 
She,  worn  and  pale  with  many  a  fast 
And  midnight  hours  in  vigil  past, 
In  robes  of  purest  white  arrayed, 
To  Lakshml  Queen  drink-offerings  paid. 
So  long  away,  she  flew  to  meet 

The  darling  of  her  soul  : 
So  runs  a  mare  with  eager  feet 

To  welcome  back  her  foal. 
He  with  his  firm  support  upheld 

The  queen,  as  near  she  drew, 
And,  by  maternal  love  impelled, 

Her  arms  around  him  threw. 
Her  hero  son,  her  matchless  boy 

She  kissed  upon  the  head  : 
She  blessed  him  in  her  pride  and  joy 
With  tender  words,  and  said  : 


Canto  XX. 


THE  RAMA? AN. 


117 


'  Be  like  thy  royal  sires  of  old, 
The  nobly  good,  the  lofty-souled  ! 
Their  lengthened  days  and  fame  be  thine, 
And  virtue,  as  beseems  thy  line ! 
The  pious  king,  thy  father,  see 
True  to  his  promise  made  to  thee : 
That  truth  thy  sire  this  day  will  show, 
And  regent's  power  on  thee  bestow.' 

She  spoke.    He  took  the  proffered  seat, 
And  as  she  pressed  her  son  to  eat, 
Raised  reverent  hands,  and,  touched  with 

shame, 

Made  answer  to  the  royal  dame  : 
'  Dear  lady,  thou  hast  yet  to  know 
That  danger  threats,  and  heavy  woe ; 
A  grief  that  will  with  sore  distress 
On  Sita,  thee,  and  Lakshman  press.- 
What  need  of  seats  have  such  as  I  ? 
This  day  to  Dandak  wood  I  fly. 
The  hour  is  come,  a  time,  unmeet 
For  silken  couch  and  gilded  seat. 
I  must  to  lonely  wilds  repair, 
Abstain  from  flesh,  and  living  there 
On  roots,  fruit,  honey,  hermit's  food, 
Pass  twice  seven  years  in  solitude.  ' 
To  Bharat's  hand  the  king  will  yield 
The  regent  power  I  thought  to  wield, 
And  me,  a  hermit,  will  he  send 
My  days  in  Dandak  wood  to  spend,1 

As  when  the  "woodman's  axe  has  lopped 
A  $al  branch  in  the  grove,  she  dropped  : 
So  from  the  skies  a  Goddess  falls 
Ejected  from  her  radiant  halls. 

When  Rama  saw  her  lying  low, 
Prostrate  by  too  severe  a  blow, 
Around  her  form  his  arms  he  wound 
And  raised  her  fainting  from  the  ground. 
His  hand  upheld  her  like  a  mare 
Who  feels  her  load  too  sore  to  bear, 
And  sinks  upon  the  way  o'ertoiled, 
And  all  her  limps  with  dust  are  soiled. 
He  soothed  her  in  her  wild  distress 
With  loving  touch  and  soft  caress. 
She,  meet  for  highest  fortune,  eyed 
The  hero  watching  by  her  side, 
And  thus,  while  Lakshman  bent  to  hear, 
Addressed  her  son  with  many  a  tear  : 
*  If,  Rama,  thou  had  ne'er  been  born 
My  child  to  make  thy  mother  mourn, 
Though  reft  of  joy,  a  childless  queen, 
Such  woe  as  this  I  ne'er  had  seen. 
Though  to  the  childless  wife  there  clings 
O.ne  sorrow  armed  with  keenest  stings, 
'No  child  have  I :  no  child  have  I,' 
No  second  misery  prompts  the  sigh. 
When  long  I  sought,  alas,  in  vain, 
My  husband's  love  and  bliss  to  gain, 
In  Rama  all  my  hopes  I  set 
And  dreamed  I  might  be  happy  yet. 
I,  of  the  consorts  first  and  best, 
Must  bear  my  rivals'  taunt  and  jest, 


And  brook,  though  better  far  than  they, 
The  soul  distressing  words  they  say. 
What  woman  can  be  doomed  to  pine 
In  misery  more  sore  than  mine, 
Whose  hopeless  days  must  still  be  spent 
In  grief  that  ends  not  and  lament  ? 
They  scorned  me  when  my  son  was  nigh  ; 
When  he  is  banished  I  must  die. 
Me,  whom  my  husband  never  prized, 
Kaikeyi's  retinue  despised 
With  boundless  insolence,  though  she 
Tops  not  in  rank  nor  equals  me. 
And  they  who  do  me  service  yet, 
Nor  old  allegiance  quite  forget, 
Whene'er  they  see  KaikeyiV  son, 
With  silent  lips  my  glances  shan. 
How,  O  my  darling,  shall  I  brook 
Bach  menace  of  Kaikeyi's  look, 
And  listen,  in  my  low  estate, 
To  taunts  of  one  so  passionate? 
For  seventeen  years  since  thou  wast  born 
I  sat  and  watched,  ah  me,  forlorn ! 
Hoping  some  blessed  day  to  see 
Deliverance  from  my  woes  by  thee. 
Now  comes  this  endless  grief  and  wrong1, 
So  dire  I  cannot  bear  it  long, 
Sinking,  with  age  and  sorrow  worn, 
Beneath  my  rivals'  taunts  and  scorn. 
How  shall  I  pass  in  dark  distress 
My  long  lone  days  of  wretchedness 
Without  my  Rama's  face,  as  bright 
As  the  full  moon  to  cheer  my  sight? 
Alas,  my  cares  thy  steps  to  train, 
And  fasts,  and  vows,  and  prayers  are  vain 
Hard,  hard,  I  ween,  must  be  this  heart 
To  bear  this  blow  nor  burst  apart, 
As  some  great  river  bank,  when  first 
The  floods  of  Rain-time  on  it  burst. 
No,  Fate  that  speeds  not  will  not  slay, 

Nor  Yama's  halls  vouchsafe  me  room, 
Or,  like  a  lion's  weeping  prey, 

Death  now  had  borne  me  to  my  doom. 
Hard  is  my  heart  and  wrought  of  steel 

That  breaks  not  with  the  crushing 

blow, 
Or  in  the  pangs  this  day  I  feel 

My  lifeless  frame  had  sunk  below. 
Death  waits  his  hour,  nor  takes  me  now  : 

But  this  sad  thought  augments  my  painj 
That  prayer  and  largess,  fast  and  vow, 

And  Heavenward  service  are  in  vain. 
Ah  me,  ah  me  1  with  fruitless  toil 

Of  rites  austere  a  child  I  sought : 
Thus  seed  cast  forth  on  barren  soil 

Still  lifeless  lies  and  comes  to  naught. 
If  ever  wretch  by  anguish  grieved 

Before  his  hour  to  death  had  fled, 
I  mourning,  like  a  cow  bereaved, 

Had  been  this  day  among  the  dead.' 


118 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  11. 


CANTO  XXI. 


KAUgALYA  CALMED. 

While  thus  Kausalya  wept  and  sighed. 

With  timely  words  sad  Lakshman  cried  : 

'O  honoured  Queen  I  like  it  ill 

That,  subject  to  a  woman's  will, 

Rama  his  royal  state  should  quit 

And  to  an  exile's  doom  submit. 

The  aged  king,  fond,  changed,  and  week, 

Will  as  the  queen  compels  him  speak. 

But  why  should  Rama  thus  be  sent 

To  the  wild  woods  in  banishment  ? 

No  least  offence  I  find  in  him, 

I  eee  no  fault  his  fame  to  dim. 

Not  one  in  all  the  world  I  know, 

Not  outcast  wretch,  not  secret  foe, 

Whose  whispering  lips  would  dare  assail 

His  spotless  life  with  slanderous  tale. 

Godlike  and  bounteous,  just,  sincere, 

E'en  to  his  very  foemen  dear  : 

Who  would  without  a  cause  neglect 

The  right,  and  such  a  son  reject  ? 

And  if  a  king  such  order  gave, 

In  second  childhood,  passion's  slave, 

What  son  within  his  heart  would  lay 

The  senseless  order,  and  obey? 

Come,  Rama,  ere  this  plot  be  known 

Stand  by  me  and  secure  the  throne. 

Stand  like  the  King  who  rules  below, 

Stand  aided  by  thy  brother's  bow : 

How  can  the  might  of  meaner  men 

Resist  thy  royal  purpose  then  ? 

My  shafts,  if  rebels  court  their  fate, 

Shall  lay  Ayodhya  desolate. 

Then  shall  her  streets  with  blood  be  dyed 

Of  those  who  stand  on  Bharat's  side  : 

None  shall  my  slaughtering  hand  exempt, 

For  gentle  patience  earns  contempt. 

If,  by  Kaikeyi's  counsel  changed, 

Our  father's  heart  be  thus  estranged, 

No  mercy  must  our  arm  restrain, 

But  let  the  foe  be  slain,  be  slain. 

For  should  the  guide,  respected  long, 

No  more  discerning  right  and  wrong, 

Turn  in  forbidden  paths  to  stray, 

'Tis  meet  that  force  his  steps  should  stay. 

What  power  sufficient  can  he  see, 

What  motive  for  the  wish  has  he, 

That  to  Kaikeyi  would  resign 

The  empire  which  is  justly  thine  ? 

Can  he,  O  conqueror  of  thy  foes, 

Thy  strength  and  mine  in  war  oppose? 

Can  he  entrust,  in  our  despite, 

To  Bharat's  hand  thy  royal  right  ? 

I  love  this  brother  with  the  whole 

Affection  of  my  faithful  soul. 

Yea  Queen,  by  bow  and  truth  I  swear, 

By  sacrifice,  and  gift,  aiid  prayer, 


If  Rama  to  the  forest  goes, 
Or  where  the  burning  furnace  glows, 
First  shall  my  feet  the  forest  tread, 
The  flames  shall  first  surround  my  head. 
My  might  shall  chase  thy  grief  and  tears, 
As  darkness  flies  when  morn  appears. 
Do  thou,  dear  Queen,  and  Rama  too 
Behold  what  power  like  mine  can  do. 
My  aged  father  I  will  kill, 
The  vassal  of  Kaikeyi's  will, 
Old,  yet  a  child,  the  woman's  thrall, 
Infirm,  and  base,  the  scorn  of  all.' 

Thus  Lakshman  cried, the  mighty-souled: 
Down  her  sad  cheeks  the  torrents  rolled, 
As  to  her  son  Kausalya  spake  ; 

'  Now  thou  hast  heard  thy  brother,  take 
His  counsel  if  thou  hold  it  wise, 
And  do  the  thing  his  words  advise. 
Do  not,  my  son,  with  tears  I  pray, 
My  rival's  wicked  word  obey, 
Leave  me  not  here  consumed  with  woe, 
Nor  to  the  wood,  an  exile,  go, 
If  thou,  to  virtue  ever  true, 
Thy  duty's  path  would  still  pursue, 
The  highest  duty  bids  thee  stay 
And  thus  thy  mother's  voice  obey. 
Ttius  Kasyap's  great  ascetic  son 
A  seat  among  the  Immortals  won : 
In  his  own  home,  subdued,  he  stayed, 
And  honour  to  his  mother  paid. 
If  reverence  to  thy  sire  be  due, 
Thy  mother  claims  like  honour  too, 
And  thus  I  charge  thee,  O  my  child, 
Thou  must  not  seek  the  forest  wild. 
Ah,  what  to  me  were  life  and  bliss, 
Condemned  my  darling  son  to  miss? 
But  with  my  Rama  near,  to  eat 
The  very  grass  itself  were  sweet. 
But  if  thou  still  wilt  go  and  leave 
Thy  hapless  mother  here  to  grieve, 
I  from  that  hour  will  food  abjure, 
Nor  life  without  my  son  endure. 
Then  it  will  be  thy  fate  to  dwell 
In  depth  of  world  detested  hell, 
As  Ocean  in  the  olden  time 
Was  guilty  of  an  impious  crime 
That  marked  the  lord  of  each  fair  flood 
As  one  who  spills  a  Brahman's  blood.'1 

Thus  spake  the  queen,  and  wept,  and 

sighed  ; 

Then  righteous  Rama  thus  replied  : 
*  1  have  no  power  to  slight  or  break 
Commandments  which  my  father  spake. 
I  bend  my  head,  dear  lady,  low, 
Forgive  me,  for  I  needs  must  go. 
Once  Kandu,  mighty  saint,  who  made 
His  dwelling  in  the  forest  shade, 

1  The  commentators  say  that,  in  a  former 
creation,  Ocean  grieved  his  mother  and 
suffered  in  consequence  the  pains  of  hell. 


Canto  XXL 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


119 


A  cow— and  duty's  claims  he  knew— 

Obedient  to  his  father,  slew. 

And  in  the  line  from  which  we  spring, 

When  ordered  by  their  sire  the  king, 

Through  earth  the  sons  of  Sagar  clsft, 

And  countless  things  of  life  bereft.1 

So  Jamadagni's  son55  obeyed 

His  sire,  when  in  the  wood  he  laid 

His  hand  upon  his  axe,  and  smote 

Through  Renuka  his  mother's  throat. 

The  deeds  of* these  and  more  beside, 

Peers  of  the  Gods,  my  steps  shall  guide, 

And  resolute  will  I  fill  til 

My  father's  word,  my  father's  will. 

Nor  I,  O  Queen,  unsanctioned  tread 

This  righteous  path,  by  duty  led  : 

The  road  my  footsteps  journey  o'er 

Was  traversed  by  the  great  of  yore. 

This  high  command  which  all  accept 

Shall  faithfully  by  me  be  kept, 

For  duty  ne'er  will  him  forsake 

Who  fears  his  sire's  command  to  break.' 

Thus  to  his  mother  wild  with  grief: 
Then  thus  to  Lakshman  spake  the  chief 
Of  those  by  whom  the  bow  is  bent, 
Mid  all  who  speak,  most  eloquent : 
*  I  know  what  love  for  me  thou  hast, 
What  firm  devotion  unsurpassed  : 
Tny  valour  and  thy  worth  I  know, 
And  glory  that  appals  the  foe. 
Blest  youth,  my  mother's  woe  is  great, 
It  bends  her  neath  its  matchless  weight : 
No  claims  will  she,  with  blinded  eyes, 
Of  truth  and  patience  recognize. 
For  duty  is  supreme  in  place, 
And  truth  is  duty's  noblest  base. 
Obedient  to  my  sire's  behest 
I  serve  the  cause  of  duty  best. 
For  man  should  truly  dp  whate'er 
To  mother,  Brahman,  sire,  he  sware : 
He  must  in  duty's  path  remain, 
Nor  let  his  word  be  pledged  in  vain. 
And,  O  my  brother,  how  can  I 
Obedience  to  this  charge  deny  ? 
Kaikeyi's  tongue  my  purpose  spurred, 
But  'twas  my  sire  who  gave  the  word. 
Cast  these  unholy  thoughts  aside 
Which  smack  of  war  and  Warriors'  pride; 
To  duty's  call,  not  wrath  attend, 
And  tread  the  path  which  I  commend.' 

Kama  by  fond  affection  moved 
His  brother  Lakshman  thus  reproved  ; 
Then  with  joined  hands  and  reverent  head 
Again  to  Queen  Kausalya  said: 

'  1  needs  must  go— do  thou  consent- 
To  the  wild  wood  in  banishment. 
O  give  me,  by  my  life  I  pray, 
Thy  blessing  ere  I  go  away. 


1  As  described  in  Book  I  Canto  XL. 
*  Paras uraina. 

y 


I,  when  the  promised  years  are  o'er, 

Shall  see  Ayodhya's  town  once  more. 

Then,  mother  dear,  thy  tears  restrain, 

Nor  let  thy  heart  be  wrung  by  pain  : 

In  time,  my  father's  will  obeyed, 

Shall  I  return  from  greenwood  shade. 

My  dear  Videhan,  thou,  and  I 

Lakshman,  Sumitra,  feel  this  tie, 

And  must  my  father's  word  obey, 

As  duty  bids  that  rules  for  aye. 

Thy  preparations  now  forgo, 

And  lock  within  thy  breast  thy  woe, 

Nor  be  my  pious  wish  withstood 

To  go  an  exile  to  the  wood.' 

Calm  and  unmoved  the  prince  explained 

His  duty's  claim  and  purpose  high, 
The  mother  life  and  sense  regained, 

Looked  on  her  son  and  made  reply  : 

*  If  reverence  be  thy  father's  due, 

The  same  by  right  and  love  is  mine : 
Go  not,  my  charge  I  thus  renew, 

Nor  leave  me  here  in  woe  to  pine, 
What  were  such  lonely  life  to  me, 

Rites  to  the  shades,  or  deathless  lot  ? 
More  dear,  my  son,  one  hour  with  thee 

Than  all  the  world  where  thou  art  not.' 
As  bursts  to  view,  when  brands  blaze  high, 

Some  elephant  concealed  by  night, 
So,  when  lie  heard  his  mother's  cry, 

Burnt  Kama's  grief  with  fiercer  might. 
Thus  to  the  queen,  half  senseless  still, 

And  Lakshman,  burnt  with  heart-felt 

pain, 
True  to  the  right,  with  steadfast  will, 

His  duteous  speech  he  spoke  again : 

*  Brother.  I  know  thy  loving  mind, 

Thy  valour  and  thy  truth  I  know, 
But  now  to  claims  of  duty  blind 

Thou  and  my  mother  swell  my  woe. 
The  fruits  of  deeds  in  human  life 

Make  love,  gain,  duty,  manifest, 
Dear  when  they  meet  as  some  fond  wife 

With  her  sweet  babes  upon  her  breast. 
But  man  to  duty  first  should  turn 

Whene'er  the  three  are  not  combined: 
For  those  who  heed  but  gain  we  spurn, 

And  those  to  pleasure  all  resigned. 
Shall  then  the  virtuous  disobey 

Hests  of  an  aged  king  and  sire, 
Though  feverous  joy  that  father  sway, 

Or  senseless  love  or  causeless  ire  ? 
I  have  no  power,  commanded  thus, 

To  slight  his  promise  and  decree: 
The  honoured  sire  of  both  of  us, 

My  mother's  lord  and  life  is  he. 
Shall  she,  while  yet  the  holy  king 

Is  living,  on  the  right  intent, — 
Shall  she,  like  some  poor  widowed  thing, 

Go  forth  with  me  to  banishment? 
Now.  mother,  speed  thy  parting  *on. 

And  let  thy  blessing  soothe  my  pain, 


12* 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


Boole  II. 


That  I  may  turn,  mine  exile  done, 

Like  Kkig  Yayati,  home  again. 
Fair  glory  and  the  fruit  she  gives, 

For  lust  of  sway  I  ne'er  will  slight : 
What,  for  the  span  a  mortal  lives, 

Were  rule  of  earth  without  the  right?' 
He  soothed  her  thus,  firm  to  the  last 

His  counsel  to  his  brother  told  : 
Then  round  the  queen  in  reverence  passed, 

And  held  her  in  his  loving  hold. 


CANTO  XXII. 
LAKSHMAN  CALMED. 

So  Bama  kept  unshaken  still 

His  noble  heart  with  iron  will. 

To  his  dear  brother  next  he  turned, 

Whose  glaring  eyes  with  fury  burned, 

Indignant,  panting  like  a  snake, 

And  thus  again  his  counsel  spake: 

*  Thine  anger  and  thy  grief  restrain, 

And  firm  in  duty's  path  remain. 

Dear  brother,  lay  thy  scorn  aside, 

And  be  the  right  thy  joy  and  pride. 

Thy  ready  zeal  and  thoughtful  care 

To  aid  what  rites  should  grace  the  heir, — 

These  'tis  another's  now  to  ask  ; 

Come,  gird  thee  for  thy  noble  task, 

That  Bharat's  throning  rites  may  be 

Graced  with  the  things  prepared  for  me. 

Arid  with  thy  gentle  care  provide 

That  her  fond  heart,  now  sorely  tried 

With  fear  and  longing  for  my  sake, 

With  doubt  and  dread  may  never  ache. 

To  know  that  thoughts  of  co/ning  ill 

One  hour  that  tender  bosom  fill 

With  agony  and  dark  despair 

Is  grief  too  great  for  me  to  bear. 

I  cannot,  brother,  call  to  mind 

One  wilful  fault  or  undesigned, 

When  I  have  pained  in  anything 

My  mothers  or  my  sire  the  king. 

The  right  my  father  keeps  in  view, 

In  promise,  word,  and  action  true  ; 

Let  him  then  all  his  fear  dismiss, 

Nor  dread  the  loss  of  future  bliss. 

He  fears  his  truth  herein  will  fail : 

Hence  bitter  thoughts  his  heart  assail. 

He  trembles  lest  the  rites  proceed, 

And  at  his  pangs  my  heart  should  bleed. 

So  now  this  earnest  wish  is  mine, 

The  consecration  to  resign, 

And  from  this  city  turn  away 

To  the  wild  wood  with  no  delay. 

My  banishment  to-day  will  free 

Kaikeyi  from  her  cares,  that  she, 

At  last  contented  and  elate, 

May  Bharat's  throning  celebrate. 


'hen  will  the  lady's  trouble  cease, 
hen  will  her  heart  have  joy  and  peace, 
iVhen  wandering  in  the  wood  I  wear 
Deerskin,  and  bark,  and  matted  hair, 
^or  shall  by  me  his  heart  be  grieved 
iVhose  choice  approved,  whose  mind  con- 
ceived 

'his  counsel  which  I  follow.   No, 
'orth  to  the  forest  will  I  go. 
Tis  Fate,  Sumitra's  son,  confess, 
'hat  sends  me  to  the  wilderness. 
Tis  Fate  alone  that  gives  away 
?o  other  hands  the  royal  sway. 
low  could  Kaikeyi's  purpose  bring 
3n  me  this  pain  and  suffering, 
Were  not  her  change  of  heart  decreed 
y  Fate  whose  will  commands  the  deed  ? 
know  my  filial  love  has  been 
Dhe  same  throughout  for  every  queen, 
And  with  the  same  affection  she 
las  treated  both  her  son  and  me. 
ier  shameful  words  of  cruel  spite 
To  stay  the  consecrating  rite, 
And  drive  me  banished  from  the  throne, — 
These  I  ascribe  to  Fate  alone, 
low  could  she,  born  of  royal  race, 
Whom  nature  decks  with  fairest  grace, 
Speak  like  a  dame  of  low  degree 
before  the  king  to  torture  me  ? 
But  Fate,  which  none  may  comprehend, 
To  which  all  life  must  bow  and  bend, 
[n  her  and  me  its  power  has  shown, 
Arid  all  my  hopes  are  overthrown. 
What  man,  Sumitra's  darling,  may 
Contend  with  Fate's  resistless  sway, 
Whose  all-commanding  power  we  find 
Our  former  deeds  alone  can  bind  1 
Our  life  and  death,  our  joy  and  pain, 
Anger  and  fear,  and  loss  and  gain, 
Each  thing  that  is,  in  every  state, 
All  is  the  work  of  none  but  Fate. 
E'en  saints,  inspired  with  rigid  zeal, 
When  once  the  stroke  of  Fate  they  feel, 
In  sternest  vows  no  more  engage, 
And  fall  enslaved  by  love  and  rage. 
So  now  the  sudden  stroke  whose  weight 
Descends  unlocked  for,  comes  of  Fate, 
And  with  unpitying  might  destroys 
The  promise  of  commencing  joys. 
Weigh  this  true  counsel  in  thy  soul  : 
With  thy  firm  heart  thy  heart  control  ; 
Then,  brother,  thou  wilt  cease  to  grieve 
For  hindered  rites  which  now  I  leave. 
So  cast  thy  needless  grief  away, 
And  strictly  my  commands  obey. 
These  preparations  check  with  speed, 
Nor  let  my  throning  rites  proceed. 
These  urns  that  stand  prepared  to  shed 
King-making  drops  upon  my  head, 
Shall  with  their  pure  lustrations  now 
Inaugurate  my  hermit's  vow. 


XXIII. 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


121 


Yet  what  have  I  to  do  with  things 
That  touch  the  state  and  pomp>f  .kings? 
These  hands  of  mine  shall  water  take 
To  sanctify  the  vow  I  make. 
Now  Lakshman,  let  thy  heart-  no  more 
My  fortune  changed  and  lost  deplore. 
A  forest  life  more  joys  may  bring 
Than  those  that  wait  upon  a  king. 
Now  though  her  arts  successful  mar 

My  consecrating  rite, 
Let  not  the  youngest  queen  too  far 

Thy  jealous  fear  excite. 
Nor  let  one  thought  suggesting  ill 

Upon  our  father  fall, 
But  let  thy  heart  remember  still 
That  Fate  is  lord  of  all.' 


. 


CANTO  XXIII. 
AKSH  MAN'S  ANGER. 


Thus  Rama  to  his  brother  said  ; 

And  Lakshman  bent  his  drooping  head. 

In  turns  by  grief  and  pride  impelled, 

A  middle  course  of  thought  he  held. 

Then  in  a  frown  of  anger,  bent 

His  brows  that  chief  most  excellent, 

And  like  a  serpent  in  his  hole, 

Breathed  fierce  and  fast  in  wrath  of  soul. 

His  threatening  brows  so  darkly  frowned, 

His  eyes  so  fiercely  glanced  around, 

They  made  his  glare,  which  none  might 

brook, 

Like  some  infuriate  lion's  look. 
Like  some  wild  elephant,  full  oft 
He  raised  and  shook  his  hand1  aloft. 
Now  turned  his  neck  to  left  and  right 
Now  bent,  now  raised  its  stately  height. 
Now  in  his  rage  that  sword  he  felt 
Which  mangling  wounds  to  foemen  dealt, 
With  sidelong  glance  his  brother  eyed, 
And  thus  in  burning  words  replied  : 
*  Thy  rash  resolve,  thy  eager  haste, 
Thy  mighty  fear,  are  all  misplaced : 
No  room  is  here  for  duty's  claim, 
No  cause  to  dread  the  people's  blame. 
Can  one  so  brave  as  thou  consent 
To  use,  a  coward's  argument  J 
The  glory  of  the  Warrior  race 
With  craven  speech  his  lips  debase  ? 
Can  one  like  thce  so  falsely  speak, 
Exalting  Fate,  confessed  so  weak  ?  ^ 
Canst  thou,  undoubting  still  restrain 
Suspicions  of  those  sinful  twain  ? 


1  The  Sanskrit  word  liasta  signifies  both 
hand,  and  the  trunk  of  'The  beast  that 
bears  between  his  eyes  a  serpent  for  a 
hand,' 


Canst  thou,  most  duteous,  fail  to  know 
Their  hearts  are  set  on  duty's  show  ? 
They  with  deceit  have  set  their  trains, 
And  now  the  fruit  rewards  their  pains, 
Had  they  not  long  ago  agreed, 

0  Rama,  on  this  treacherous  deed, 
That  promised  boon,  so  long  retained, 
He  erst  had  given  and  she  had  gained, 

1  cannot,  O  my  brother,  bear 
To  see  another  throned  as  heir 
With  rites  which  all  our  people  hate  : 
Then,  O,  this  passion  tolerate. 

This  vaunted  duty  which  can  guide 
Thy  steps  from  wisdom's  path  aside, 
And  change  the  counsel  of  thy  breast, 
O  lofty-hearted,  I  detest. 
Wilt  thou,  when  power  and  might  are 

thine, 

Submit  to  this  abhorred  design? 
Thy  father's  impious  hest  fulfil, 
That  vassal  of  Kaikeyi's  will ? 
But  if  thou  still  wilt  shut  thine  eyes, 
Nor  see  the  guile  herein  that  lies; 
My  soul  is  sad,  I  deeply  mourn, 
And  duty  seems  a  thing  to  scorn. 
Canst  thou  one  moment  think  to  please 
This  pair  who  live  for  love  and  ease, 
And  'gainst  thy  peace,  as  foes,  allied, 
With  tenderest  names  their  hatred  hide 
Now  if  thy  judgment  still  refers 
To  Fate  this  plot  of  his  and  hers, 
My  mind  herein  can  ne'er  agree  : 
And  O,  in  this  be  ruled  by  me. 
Weak,  void  of  manly  pride  are  they 
Who  bend  to  Fate's  imputed  sway : 
The  choicest  souls,  the  nobly  great 
Disdain  to  bow  their  heads  to  Fate. 
And  he  who  dares  his  Fate  control 
With  vigorous  act  and  manly  soul, 
Though  threatening  Fate  his  hopes  assail. 
Unmoved  through  all  need  never  quail. 
This  day  mankind  shall  learn  aright 
The  power  of  Fate  and  human  might, 
So  shall  the  gulf  that  lies  between 
A  man  and  Fate  be  clearly  seen. 
The  might  of  Fate  subdued  by  me 
This  hour  the  citizens  shall  see, 
Who  saw  its  intervention  stay 
Thy  consecrating  rites  to-day 
My  power  shall  turn  this  Fate  aside, 
That  threatens,  as,  with  furious  stride, 
An  elephant  who  scorns  to  feel, 
In  rage  unchecked,  the  driver's  steel. 
Not  the  great  Lords  whose  sleepless  might 
Protects  the  worlds,  shall  stay  the  rite 
Though  earth,  hell,  heaven  combine  their 

powers  : 

And  shall  we  fear  this  sire  of  ours  ? 
Then  if  their  minds  are  idly  bent 
To  doom  thee,  King,  to  banishment, 
I  Through  twice  seven  years  of  exile  they 


122 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


Shall  in  the  lonely  forest  stay. 

3  will  consume  the  hopes  that  fire 

The  queen  Kaikeyj  and  our  sire, 

That  to  her  son  this  check  will  bring 

Advantage,  making  Bharat  king. 

The  power  of  Fate  will  ne'er  withstand 

The  might  that  arms  my  vigorous  hand  ; 

If  danger  and  distress  assail, 

My  fearless  strength  will  still  prevail. 

A  thousand  circling  years  shall  flee  : 

The  forest  then  thy  home  shall  be, 

And  thy  good  sons,  succeeding,  hold 

The  empire  which  their  sire  controlled. 

The  royal  saints,  of  old  who  reigned, 

For  aged  kings  this  rest  ordained: 

These  to  their  sons  their  realm  commit 

That  they,  like  sires,  may  cherish  it. 

O  pious  soul,  if  thou  decline 

The  empire  which  is  justly  thine, 

Lest,  while  the  king  distracted  lies, 

Disorder  in  the  state  should  rise, 

I,— or  no  mansion  may  I  find 

In  worlds  'to  hero  souls  assigned,— 

The  guardian  of  thy  realm  will  be, 

As  the  sea-bank  protects  the  sea. 

Then  cast  thine  idle  fears  aside  : 

With  prosperous  rites  be  sanctified. 

The  lords  of  earth  may  strive  in  vain  : 

My  power  shall  all  their  force  restrain. 

My  pair  of  arms,  my  warrio'rs  bow 

Are  not  for  pride  of  empty  show  : 

For  no  support  these  shafts  were  made  ; 

And  binding  up  ill  suits  my  blade  : 

To  pierce  the  foe  with  deadly  breach — 

This  is  the  work  of  all  and  each. 

But  small,  methinks,  the  love  I  show 

For  him  I  count  my  mortal  foe. 

Soon  as  my  trenchant  steel  is  bare, 

Flashing  its  lightning  through  the  air, 

I  heed  no  foe,  nor  stand  aghast 

Though  Indra's  self  the  levin  cast. 

Then  shall   the  ways  be  hard  to  pass, 

Where  chariots  lie  in  ruinous  mass  ; 

When  elephant  and  man  and  steed 

Crushed  in  the  murderous  onslaught  bleed 

And  legs  and  heads  fall,  heap  on  heap, 

Boneath  my  sword's  tremendous  sweep. 

Struck  by  my  keen  brand's  trenchant  blade 

Thine  enemies  shall  fall  dismayed, 

Like  towering  mountains  rent  in  twain, 

Or  lightning  clouds  that  burst  in  rain, 

Wnen  armed  with  brace  and  glove  1  stand 

And  take  my  trusty  bow  in  hand, 

Wno  then  shall  vaunt  his  might  ?  who  dare 

Count  h  m  a  man  to  meet  me  there? 

Then  will  I  loose  my  shafts,  and  strike 

Man,  elephant,  and  steed  alike  : 

At  one  shall  many  an  arrow  riy, 

And  many  a  foe  with  one  shall  die. 

This  day  the  world  my  power  shall  see, 

That  none  in  arms  can  rival  nie  : 


My  strength  the  monarch  shall  abase, 
And  set  thee,  lord,  in  lordliest  place. 
These  arms  which  breathe  the  sandal's 

S3ent, 

Which  golden  bracelets  ornament, 
These  hands  which  precious  gifts  bestow, 
Which  guard  the  friend  and  smite  the  foe, 
A  nobler  service  shall  assay, 
And  tight  in  Rfima's  cause  to-day, 
Che  robbers  of  thy  rights  to  stay, 
Speak,  brother,  tell  thy  foernan's  name 

Whom  I,  in  conquering  strife, 
May  strip  of  followers  and  fame, 

Of  fortune,  or  of  life. 
Say,  how  may  all  this  sea-girt  land 

Be  brought  to  own  thy  sway  : 
Thy  faithful  servant  here  I  stand 

To  listen  and  obey.' 
Then  strove  the  bride  of  Uaghu's  race 

Sad  Lakshinan's  heart  to  cheer, 
While  slowly  down  the  hero's  face, 

Unchecked,  there  rolled  a  tear. 
'  The  orders  of  my  sire,'  he  cried, 

'My  will  shall  ne'er  oppose  : 
I  follow  still,  whate'er  betide, 
The  path  which  duty  shows.' 


CANTO  XXIV. 


KAU^ALYA  CALMED. 

But  when  Kausaly£  saw  that  he 

Resolved  to  keep  his  sire's  decree, 

While  tears  and  sobs  her  utterance  broke, 

Her  very  righteous  speech  she  spoke  : 

'  Can  he,  a  stranger  yet  to  pain, 

Whose  pleasant  words  all  hearts  enchain, 

Son  of  the  king  and  me  the  queen, 

Live  on  the  grain  his  hands  may  glean  ; 

Can  he,  whose  slaves  and  menials  eat 

The  finest  cakes  of  sifted  wheat — 

Can  Rama  in  the  forest  live 

On  roots  and  fruit  which  woodlands  give  ; 

Who  will  believe,  who  will  not  fear 

When  the  sad  story  smites  his  ear, 

That  one  so  dear,  so  noble  held, 

Is  by  the  king  his  sire  expelled  ? 

Now  surely  none  may  Fate  resist, 

Which  orders  all  as  it  may  list, 

If,  Rama,  in  thy  strength  and  grace, 

The  woods  become  thy  dwelling-place. 

A  childless  mother  long  I  grieved, 

And  many  a  sigh  for  offspring  heaved, 

With  wistful  longing  weak  and  worn 

Till  thou  at  last,  my  son,  wast  born. 

Fanned  by  the  storm  of  that  desire 

Deep  in  my  soul  I  felt  the  tire, 

Whose  offerings  flowed  from  weeping  eyes, 

With  fuel  fed  of  groans  and  bigiis, 


Canto  XXIV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


123 


Wihile  round  the  flame  the  smoke  grew  hot 
Of  tears  because  thou  earnest  not. 
Now  reft  of  thee,  too  fiery  fierce 
The  flame  of  woe  my  heart  will  pierce, 
As,  when  the  days  of  spring  return, 
The  sun's  hot  beams  the  forest  burn. 
The  mother  cow  still  follows  near 
The  wanderings  of  her  youngling  dear, 
So  close  to  thine  my  feet  shall  be, 
Where'er  thou  goest  following  thee,' 

Rama,  the  noblest  lord  of  men, 
Heard  his  fond  mother's  speech,  and  then 
In  soothing  words  like  these  replied 
To  the  sad  queen  who  wept  and  sighed  : 
'  Nay,  by  Kaikeyi's  art  beguiled, 
When  I  am  banished  to  the  wild, 
If  thou,  my  mother,  also  fly, 
The  aged  king  will  surely  die. 
When  wedded  dames  their  lords  forsake, 
Long  for  the  crime  their  souls  shall  ache. 
Thou  must  not  e'en  in  thought  within 
Thy  bosom  frame  so  dire  a  sin. 
Long  as  Kakutstha's  son,  who  reigns 
Lord  of  the  earth,  in  life  remains, 
Thou  must  with  love  his  will  obey  : 
This  duty  claims,  supreme  for  aye. 
Yes,  mother,  thou  and  I  must  be 
Submissive  to  my  sire's  decree, 
King,  husband,  sire  is  he  confessed, 
The  lord  of  all,  the  worthiest. 
I  in  the  wilds  my  days  will  spend 
Till  twice  seven  years  have  reached  an  end, 
Then  with  great  joy  will  come  again, 
And  faithful  to  thy  hests  remain.' 

Kausalya,  by  her  son  addressed, 
With  love  and  passion  sore  distressed, 
Afflicted,  with  her  eyes  bedewed, 
To  Rama  thus  her  speech  renewed  : 

'  Nay,  Rama,  but  my  heart  will  break 
If  with  these  queens  my  home  I  make, 
Lead  me  too  with  thee  ;  let  me  go 
And  wander  like  a  woodland  roe.' 

Then,  while  no  tear  the  hero  shed, 
Thus  to  the  weeping  queen  he  said  : 
'  Mother,  while  lives  the  husband,  he 
Is  woman's  lord  and  deity. 
O  dearest  lady,  thou  and  I 
Our  lord  and  king  must  ne'er  deny; 
The  lord  of  earth  himself  have  we 
Our  guardian  wise  and  friend  to  be. 
And  Bharat,  true  to  duty's  call, 
Whose  sweet  words  take  the  hearts  of  all, 
Will  serve  thee  well,  and  ne'er  forget 
The  virtuous  path  before  him  set. 
Be  this,  I  pray,  thine  earnest  care, 
That  the  old  king  my  father  ne'er, 
When  I  have  parted  hence,  may  know, 
Grieved  for  his  son,  a  pang  of  woe. 
Let  not  this  grief  his  soul  distress, 
To  kill  him  with  the  bitterness. 
Wth  duteous  care,  in  erery  thing, 


Love,  comfort,  cheer  the  aged  king. 
Though,  best  of  womankind,  a  spouse 
Keeps  firmly  all  her  fasts  and  vows, 
Nor  yet  her  husband's  will  obeys, 
She  treads  in  sin's  forbidden  ways. 
She  to  her  husband's  will  who  bends 
Goes  to  high  bliss  that  never  ends, 
Yea,  though  the  Gods  have  found  in  her 
^  o  reverential  worshipper. 
Bent  on  his  weal,  a  woman  still 
Must  seek  to  do  her  husband's  will : 
For  Scripture,  custom,  law  uphold 
This  duty  Heaven  revealed  of  old. 
Honour  true  Brahmans  for  my  sake, 
And  constant  offerings  duly  make, 
With  fire-oblations  and  with  flowers, 
To  all  the  host  of  heavenly  powers. 
Look  to  the  coming  time,  and  yearn 
For  the  glad  hour  of  my  return, 
And  still  thy  duteous  course  pursue, 
Abstemious,  humble,  kind,  and  true. 
The  highest  bliss  shalt  thou  obtain 
When  I  from  exile  come  again, 
If,  best  of  those  who  keep  the  right, 
The  king  my  sire  still  see  the  light.' 

The  queen,  by  Rama  thus  addressed, 
Still  with  a  mother's  grief  oppressed, 
While  her  long  eyes  with  tears  were  dim, 
Began  once  more  and  answered  him  : 
*  Not  by  my  pleading  may  be  stayed 
The  firm  resolve  thy  soul  has  made. 
My  hero,  thou  wilt  go  ;  and  none 
The  stern  commands  of  Fate  may  shun. 
Go  forth,  dear  child  whom  naught  can  bend 
And  may  all  bliss  thy  steps  attend. 
Thou  wilt  return,  and  that  dear  day 
Will  clia;-e  mine  every  grief  away, 
Thou  wilt  return,  thy  duty  done, 
Thy  vows  discharged,  high  glory  won  ; 
From  filial  debt  wilt  thou  be  free, 
And  sweetest  joy  will  come  on  me. 
My  son,  the  will  of  mighty  Fate 
At  every  time  mu^t  dominate, 
If  now  it  drives  thee  hence  to  stray 
Heedless  of  me  who  bid  thee  stay. 
Go,  strong  of  arm,  go  forth,  my  boy, 
Go  forth,  again  to  come  with  joy, 
And  thine  expectant  mother  cheer 
With  those  sweet  tones  she  loves  to  hear. 
O  that  the  blessed  hour  were  nigh 
When  th  >u  shalt  glad  this  anxious  eye, 
With  matted  hair  and  hermit  dress 
Returning  from  the  wilderness.' 
Kausalya's  conscious  soul  approved, 

As  her  proud  glance  she  bent 
On  Rama  constant  and  unmoved, 

Resolved  on  banishment. 
Such  words,  with  happy  omens  fraught 

To  her  dear  son  she  said, 
Invoking  with  each  eager  thought 
A  blessing  on  his  bead. 


121 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  ll 


CANTO  XXV. 


KAtgALYA'S  BLESSING. 

Her  grief  and  woe  she  cast  aside, 
Her  lips  with  water  purified, 
And  thus  her  benison  began 
That  mother  of  the  noblest  man  : 
« If  thou  wilt  hear  no  words  of  mine, 
Go  forth,  thou  pride  of  Raghu's  line. 
Go,  darling,  and  return  with  speed, 
Walking  where  noble  spirits  lead. 
JVlay  virtue  on  thy  steps  attend, 
And  be  her  faithful  lover's  friend. 
May  Those  to  whom  thy  vows  are  paid 
In  temple  and  in  holy  shade, 
With  all  the  mighty  saints  combine 
To  keep  that  precious  life  of  thine. 
The  arms  wise  Visvamitra1  gave 
Thy  virtuous  soul  from  danger  save. 
Long  be  thy  life  :  thy  sure  defence 
Shall  be  thy  truthful  innocence, 
And  that  obedience,  naught  can  tire, 
To  me  thy  mother  and  thy  sire. 
May  fanes  where  holy  fires  are  fed, 
Altars  with  grass  and  fuel  spread, 
Each  sacrificial  ground,  each  tree, 
Bock,  lake,  and  mountain,  prosper  thee. 
Let  old  Viraj,2  and  Him  who  made 
The  universe,  combine  to  aid  ; 
Let  Indra  and  each  guardian  Lord 
Who  keeps  the  worlds,  their  help  afford, 
And  be  thy  constant  friend  the  Sun, 
Lord  Pusha,  Bhaga,  Aryaman.3 
Fortnights  and  seasons,  nights  and  days. 
Years,  months,  and  hours,  protect  thy  ways, 
Vrihaspati  shall  still  be  nigh, 
The  War-God,  and  the  Moon  on  high, 
And  Narad*  and  the  sainted  seven5 
Shall  watch  thee  from  their  starry  heaven 
The  mountains,  and  the  seas  which  ring 
The  world,  and  Varuna  the  King, 
Sky,  ether,  and  the  wind,  whate'er 
Moves  not  or  moves,  for  thee  shall  care. 
Each  lunar  mansion  be  benign, 
With  happier  light  the  planets  shine; 
All  gods,  each  light  in  heaven  that  glows 
Potect  my  child  where'er  he  goes. 
The  twilight  hours,  the  day  and  night, 
Keep  in  the  wood  thy  steps  aright. 
Watch,  minute,  instant,  as  they  flee, 
Shall  all  bring  happiness  to  thee. 


Celestials  and  the  Titan  brood 
^rotect  thee  in  thy  solitude, 
And  haunt  the  mighty  wood  to  bless 
The  wanderer  in  his  hermit  dress. 
?ear  not,  by  mightier  guardians  screened, 
The  giant  or  night-roving  fiend  ; 
^or  let  the  cruel  race  who  tear 
Man's  flesh  for  food  thy  bosom  scare. 
Far  be  the  ape,  the  scorpion's  sting, 
Fly,  gnat,  and  worm,  and  creeping  thing. 
Thee  shall  the  hungry  lion  spare, 
The  tiger,  elephant,  and  bear  : 
Safe  from  their  furious  might  repose, 
Safe  from  the  horned  buffaloes, 
Each  savage  thing  the  forests  breed, 
That  love  on  human  flesh  to  feed, 
Shall  for  my  child  its  rage  abate, 
When  thus  'its  wrath  I  deprecate. 
Blest  be  thy  ways :  may  sweet  success 
The  valour  of  my  darling  bless. 
To  all  that  Fortune  can  bestow, 
Go  forth,  my  child,  my  Rama,  go. 
Go  forth,  O  happy  in  the  love 
Of  all  the  Gods  below,  above  ; 
And  in  those  guardian  powers  confide 
Thy  paths  who  keep,  thy  steps  who  guide. 
May  dukra,1  Yama,  Sun,  and  Moon, 
And  He  who  gives  each  golden  boon,3 
Won  by  mine  earnest  prayers,  be  good 
To  thee,  my  son,  in  Dandak  wood. 
Fire,  wind,  and  smoke,  each  text  and  spell 
From  mouths  of  holy  seers  that  fell, 
Guard  Rama  when  his  limbs  he  dips, 
Or  with  the  stream  makes  pure  his  lips ! 
May  the  great  saints  and  He,  the  Lord 
Who  made  the  worlds,  by  worlds  adored, 
And  every  God  in  heaven  beside 
My  banished  Rama  keep  and  guide.' 

Thus  with  due  praise  the  long-eyed  dame, 
Ennobled  by  her  spotless  fame, 
With  wreaths  of  flowers  and  precious  scent 
Worshipped  the  Gods,  most  reverent. 
A  high-souled  Brahman  lit  the  fire, 
And  offered,  at  the  queen's  desire, 
The  holy  oil  ordained  to  burn 
For  Rama's  weal  and  safe  return. 
Kausalya,  best  of  dames,  with  care 
Set  oil,  wreaths,  fuel,  mustard,  there. 
Then  when  the  rites  <  f  fire  had  ceased, 
For  Rama's  bliss  and  health,  the  priest, 
Standing  without,  gave  what  remained 
In  general  offering,3  as  ordained. 


i  See  p.  41, 

»  The  first  progeny  of  Brahma,  or  Brah 
m&  himself. 

3  These  are  three  names  of  the  Sun, 

«  See  p.  1. 

5  The  saints  who  form  the  constellation 
of  Ursa  Major. 


i  The  regent  of  the  planet  Venus. 

*  Kuvera. 

3  Bali,  or  the  presentation  of  food  to  all 
created  beings,  is  one  of  the  five  great  sa- 
craments of  the  Hindu  religion  :  it  consists 
in  throwing  a  small  parcel  of  the  offering, 
Ghee,  or  rice,  or  the  like,  into  the  open  air 
at  the  back  of  the  house* 


Canto  XX  VI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


125 


Dealing  among  the  twico-born  train 
Honey,  and  curds,  and  oil,  and  grain, 
He  bade  each  heart  and  voice  unite 
To  bless  the  youthful  anchorite. 
Then  Kama's  mother,  glorious  dame 
Bestowed,  to  meet  the  Brahman's  claim, 
A  lordly  fee  for  duty  done  ; 
And  thus  again  addressed  her  son  : 

'Such  blessings  as  the  Gods  o'erjoyed 
Poured  forth,  when  Vritra1  was  destroyed, 
On  Indra  of  the  thousand  eyes, 
Attend,  my  child,  thine  enterprise ! 
Yea,  such  as  Vinata  once  gave 
To  King  Suparna2  swift  and  brave, 
Who  sought  the  drink  that  cheers  the  skies, 
Attend,  my  child,  thine  enterprise  I 
Yea,  such  as,  when  the  Amrit  rose,3 
And  Indra  slew  his  Daitya  foes, 
The  royal  Aditi  bestowed 
On  Him  whose  hand  with  slaughter  glowed 
Of  that  dire  brood  of  monstrous  size, 
Attend,  my  child,  thine  enterprise  1 
E'en  such  as  peerless  Vishnu  graced, 
When  with  his  triple  step  he  paced, 
Outbursting  from  the  dwarf's  disguise,4 
Attend,  my  child,  thine  enterprise  ! 
Floods,  isles,  and  seasons  as  they'fly, 
Worlds,  Vedas,  quarters  of  the  sky, 
Combine,  O  mighty-armed,  to  bless 
Thee  destined  heir  of  happiness!' 

The  long-eyed'lady  ceased  :  she  shed 
Pure  scent  and  grain  upon  his  head. 
And  that  prized  herb  whose  sovereign  power 
Preserves  from'dark  misfortune's  hour, 
Upon  the  hero's  arm  she  set, 
To  be  his  faithful  amulet, 
While  holy  texts  she  murmured  low, 
And  spoke  glad  words  though  crushed  by 

woe. 

Concealing  with  obedient  tongue 
The  pangs  with  which  her  heart  was  wrung. 
She  bent,  she  kissed  his  brow,£she  pressed 
Her  darling  to  her  troubled  breast : 
'Firm  in  thy  purpose,  go,'  she  cried, 
"Go  Kama,  and  may  bliss  betide. 
Again  returning  safe  and  well, 
Triumphant  in  Ayodhya  dwell. 
Then  shall  my  happy  eyes  behold 
The  empire  by  thy  will  controlled. 
Then  grief  and  care  shall  leave  no  trace, 
Joy  shall  light  up  thy  mother's  face, 
And  I  shall  see  my  darling  reign, 
In  moonlike  glory  come  again. 
These  eyes  shall  fondly  gaze  on  thee 
So  faithful  to  thy  sire's  decree, 


When  thou.  the  forest  wild  shalt  quit 
On  thine  ancestral  throne  to  ait. 
Yea,  thou  shalt  turn  from  e'xile  back, 
Nor  choicest  blessings  ever  lack, 
Then  fill  with  rapture  eter  new 
My  bosom  and  thy  consort's  too. 
To  &Ya  and  the  heavenly  host 

My  worship  has  been  paid, 
To  mighty  saint,  to  godlike  ghost, 

To  every  wandering  shade. 
Forth  to  the  forest  thou  wilt  hie, 

Therein  to  dwell  so  long : 
Let  all  the  quarters  of  the  sky 

Protect  my  child  from  wrong.' 
Her  blessings  thus  the  queen  bestowed  ; 

Then  round  him  fondly  paced, 
And  often,  while  her  eyes  o'erflowed, 

Her  dearest  son  embraced. 
Kausalya's  honoured  feet  he  pressed, 

As  round  her  steps  she  bent, 
And  radiant  with  her  prayers  that  blessed, 
To  Sita's  home  he  went. 


CANTO  XXVI. 


I1  In  mythology,  a  demon  slain  by  Indra. 
*;  2  Called  also  Garud,  the  King  of  the 
birds,  offspring  of  Vinata.  See  p.  53. 

a  See  p.  56, 

*  See  p.  43. 


ALONE  WITH  SFTA'. 

So  Rama,  to  his  purpose  true, 

To  Queen  Kausalya  bade  adieui, 

Received  the  benison  she  gave, 

And  to  the  path  of  duty  clave. 

As  through  the  crowded  street  he  passed, 

A  radiance  on  the  way  he  cast, 

And  each  fair  grace,  by  all  approved, 

The  bosoms  of  the  people  moved. 

Now  of  the  woeful  change  no  word 
The  fair  Videhan  bride  had  heard  ; 
Tho  thought  of  that  imperial  rite 
Still  filled  her  bosom  with  delight. 
With  grateful  heart  and  joyful  thought 
The  Gods  in  worship  she 'had  sought, 
And,  well  in  royal  duties  learned, 
Sat  longing  till  her  lord  returned. 
Not  all  unmarked  by  grief  and  shame 
Within  his  sumptuous  home  he  came, 
And  hurried  through  the  happy  crowd 
With  eye  dejected,  gloomy-browed. 
Up  Sita  sprang,  and  every  limb  ^ 
Trembled  with  fear  at  sight  of  him. 
She  marked  that  cheek  where  anguish  fed, 
Those  senses  care-disquieted. 
For,  when  he  looked  on  her,  no  more 
Could  hie  heart  hide  the  load  it  bore, 
Nor  could  the  pious  chief  control 
The  paleness  o'er  his  cheek  that  stole. 
His  altered  cheer,  his  brow  bedewed 
With  clammy  drops,  his  grief  she  viewed, 
And  cried,  consumed  with  fires  of  woe, 
4  What,  O  my  lord,  has  changed  thee  so  ? 


126 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool  11. 


Vrihaspati  looks  down  benign, 
And  the  moon  rests  in  Pushya's  sign, 
As  Brahmans  sage  this  day  declare  : 
Then  whence,  my  lord,  this  grief  and  care 
Why  does  no  canopy,  like  foam 
For  its  white  beauty,  shade  thee  home, 
Its  hundred  ribs  spread  wide  to  throw 
Splendour  on  thy  fair  head  below  ? 
Where  are  the  royal  fans,  to  grace 
The  lotus  beauty 'of  thy  face, 
Fair  as  the  moon  or  wild-swan's  wing, 
And  waving  round  the  new-made  king? 
Why  do  no  sweet-toned  bards  rejoice 
To  hail  thee  with  triumphant  voice? 
No  tuneful  heralds  love  to  raise 
Loud  music  in  their  monarch's  praise  ? 
Why  do  no  Brahmans,  Scripture-read, 
Pour  curds  and  honey  on  thy  head, 
Anointed,  as  the  laws  ordain, 
With  holy  rites,  supreme  to  reign  ? 
WThere  are  the  chiefs  of  every  guild? 
Where  are  the  myriads  should  have  filled 
The  streets,  and  followed  home  their  king 
With  merry  noise  and  triumphing? 
Why  does  no  gold-wrought  chariot  lead 
With  four  brave  horses,  best  for  speed  ? 
No  elephant  precede  the  crowd 
Like  a  huge  hill  or  thunder  cloud, 
Marked  from  his  birth  for  happy  fate, 
Whom  signs  auspicious  decorate  ? 
Why  does  no  henchman,  young  and  fair, 
Precede  thee,  and  delight  to  bear 
Entrusted  to  his  reverent  hold 
The  burthen  of  thy  throne  of  gold  ? 
Why,  if  the  consecrating  rite 
Be  ready,  why  this  mournful  plight? 
Why  do  I  see  this  sudden  change, 
This  altered  mien  so  sad  and  strange?' 

To  her,  as  thus  she  weeping  cried, 
Raghu's  illustrious  son  replied  : 

*Sita,  my  honoured  sire's  decree 
Commands  me  to  the  woods  to  llee. 

0  high-born  lady,  nobly  bred 

Jn  the  good  paths  thy  footsteps  tread, 
Hear,  Janak's  daughter,  while  I  tell 
The  story  as  it  all  befell. 
Of  old  my  father  true  and  brave 
Two  boons  to  Queen  Kaikeyi  gave. 
Through  these  the  preparations  made 
For  me  to-day  by  her  are  stayed, 
For  he  is  bound  to  disallow 
This  promise  by  that  earlier  vow. 
In  Dandak  forest  wild  and  vast 
IVlust  fourteen  years  by  me  be  passed. 
My  father's  will  makes  Bharat  heir, 
The  kingdom  and  the  throne  to  share. 
Now,  ere  the  lonely  wild  I  seek, 

1  come  once  more  with  thee  to  speak. 
In  'Bharat's  presence,  O  my  dame, 
Ne'er  speak  with  pride  of  Kama's  name  : 
Another's  eulogy  to  hear 


Is  hateful  to  a  monarch's  ear. 

Thou  rnut-t  with  love  his  rule  obey 

To  whom  my  father  yields  the  sway. 

With  love  and  sweet  observance  learn 

His  grace,  and  more  the  king's,  to  earn. 

Now,  that  my  father  may  not  break 

The  words  of  promise  that  he  spake, 

To  the  drear  wood  my  steps  are  bent : 

Be  firm,  good  Sita,  and  content. 

Through  all  that  time, my  blameless  spouse, 

Keep  well  thy  fasts  and  holy  vows. 

Kise  from  thy  bed  at  break  of  day, 

And  to  the  Gods  due  worship  pay. 

With  meek  and  lowly  love  revere 

The  lord  of  men,  my  father  dear, 

And  reverence  to  Kausalya,  show, 

My  mother,  worn  with  eld  and  woe : 

By  duty's  law,  O  best  of  dames, 

High  worship  from  thy  love  she  claims. 

Nor  to  the  other  queens  refuse 

Observance,  rendering  each  her  dues: 

By  love  and  fond  attention  shown 

They  are  my  mothers  like  mine  own. 

Let  Bharat  and  j&atrughua  bear 

In  thy  sweet  love  a  special  share  : 

Dear  as  my  life,  O  let  them  be 

Like  brother  and  like  son  to  thee. 

In  every  word  and  deed  refrain 

From  aught  that  Bharat's  soul  may  pain: 

He  is  Ayodhy;Vs  king  and  mine, 

Tire  head  and  lord  of  all  our  line. 

For  those  who  serve  and  love  them  much 

With  weariless  endeavour,  touch 

And  win  the  gracious  hearts  of  kings. 

While  wrath  from  disobedience  springs. 

Great  inonarchs  from  their  presence  send 

Their  lawful  sons  who  still  offend, 

And  welcome  to  the  vacant  place 

Good  children  of  an  alien  race. 

Then,  best  of  women,  rest  thou  here, 

And  Bharat's  will  with  love  revere. 

Obedient  to  thy  king  remain, 

And  still  thy  vows  of  truth  maintain. 

To  the  wide  wood  my  steps  1  bend  : 
Make  thou  thy  dwelling  here  ; 

See  that  thy  conduct  ne'er  offend> 
And  keep  my  words,  my  dear.' 

CANTO  XXYI1. 


SITA'S  SPEECH. 

HTis  sweetly-speaking  bride,  who  best 
Deserved  her  lord,  he  thus  addressed. 
Then  tender  love  bade  passion  wake, 
And  thus  the  fair  Videhan  spake  : 
What  words  are  these  that  thou  hast  said? 
Contempt  of  me  the  thought  has  bred, 
)  best  of  heroes,  ]  dismiss 
With  bitter  scorn  a  speech  like  this : 


Canto  XXV III. 


•THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


127 


Unworthy  of  a  warrior's  fame 

It  taints  a  monarch's  -son  with  shame, 

Ne'er  to  be  heard  from  those  who  know 

The  science  of  the  sword  and  bow. 

My  lord,  the  mother,  sire,  and  son 

Receive  their  lots  by  merit  won  ; 

The  brother  and  the  daughter  find 

The  portions  to  their  deeds  assigned. 

The  wife  alone,  whate'er  await, 

Must  share  on  earth  her  husband's  fate. 

So  now  the  king's  command  which  sends 

Thee  to  the  wild,  to  me  extends. 

The  wife  can  find  no  refuge,  none, 

In  father,  mother,  self,  or  son  : 

Both  here,  and  when  they  vanish  hence, 

Her  husband  is  her  sole  (iefence. 

If,  Fiaghu's  son,  thy  steps  are  led 

Where  Dandak's  pathless  wilds  are  spread, 

My  feet  before  thine  own  shall  pass 

Through  tangled  thorn  and  matted  grass. 

Dismiss  thine  anger  and  thy  doubt : 

Like  refuse  water  cast  them  out, 

And  lead  me,  O  my  hero,  hence — 

I  know  not  sin — with  confidence. 

Whate'er  his  lot,  'tis  far  more  sweet 

To  follow  still  a  husband's  feet 

Than  in  rich  palaces  to  lie, 

Or  roam  at  pleasure  through  the  sky. 

My  mother  and  my  sire  have  taught 

What  duty  bids,  and  trained  each  thought, 

Nor  have  I  now  mine  ear  to  turn 

The  duties  of  a  wife  to  learn. 

I'll  seek  with  thee  the  woodland  dell 

And  pathless  wild  where  no  men  dwell, 

Where  tribes  of  silvan  creatures  roam, 

And  many  a  tiger  makes  his  home. 

My  life  shall  pass  as  pleasant  there 

As  in  my  father's  palace  fair. 

The  worlds  shall  wake  no  care  in  me  ; 

My  only  care  be  truth  to  thee. 

There  while  thy  wish  I  still  obey, 

True  to  my  vows  with  thee  I'll  stray, 

And  there  shall  blissful  hours  be  spent 

In  woods  with  honey  redolent. 

In  forest  shades  thy  mighty  arm 

Would  keep  a  stranger's  life  from  harm, 

And  how  shall  Sita,  think  of  fear 

When  thou,  O  glorious  lord,  art  near? 

Heir  of  high  bliss,  my  choice  is  made, 

Nor  can  I  from  my  will  be  stayed. 

Doubt  riot;  the  earth  will  yield  me  roots, 

These  will  I  eat,  and  woodland  fruits  ; 

And  as  with  thee  I  wander  there 

I  will  not  bring  thee  grief  or  care, 

I  long,  when  thou,  wise  lord,  art  nigh, 

All  fearless,  with  delighted  eye 

To  gaze  upon  the  rocky  hill, 

The  lake,  the  fountain,  and  the  rill ; 

To  sport  with  thee,  my  limbs  to  cool, 

In  some  pure  lily-covered  pool, 

While  the  white  swan's  and  mallard's  wings 


Are  plashing  in  the  water-springs. 
So  would  a  thousand  seasons  flee 
Like  one  sweet  day,  if  spent  with  thee. 
Without  my  lord  1  would  not  prize 
A  home  with  Gods  above  the  skies  : 
Without  my  lord,  my  life  to  bless, 
Where  could  be  heaven  or  happiness  ? 
Forbid  me  not :  with  thee  1  go 
The  tangled  wood  to  tread. 
There  will  I  live  with  thee,  as  though 

This  roof  were  o'er  my  head. 
My  will  for  thine  shall  be  resigned  ; 

Thy  feet  my  steps  shall  guide. 
Thou,  only  thou,  art  in  my  mind : 

I  heed  not  all  beside. 
Thy  heart  shall  ne'er  by  me  be  grieved; 

Do  not  my  prayer  deny  : 
Take  me,  dear  lord  ;  of  thee  bereaved 

Thy  Sita  swears  to  die.' 
These  words  the  duteous  lady  spake, 

Nor  would  he  yet  conseut 
His  faithful  wife  with  him  to  take 

To  share  his  banishment. 
He  soothed  her  with  his  gentle  speech ; 

To  change  her  will  he  strove  ; 
And  much  he  said  the  woes  to  teach 
Of  those  in  wilds  who  rove. 


CANTO  XXVIII. 


THE  DANGERS  OF  THE  WOOD. 

Thus  Sit£  spake,  and  he  who  knew 
His  duty,  to  its  orders  true, 
Was  still  reluctant  as  the  woes 
Of  forest  life  before  him  rose. 
He  sought  to  soothe  her  grief,  to  dry 
The  torrent  from  each  brimming  eye, 
And  then,  her  firm  resolve  to  shake, 
These  words  to  pious  hero  spake  ; 

'  O  daughter  of  a  noble  line, 
Whose  steps  from  virtue  ne'er  decline, 
Remain,  thy  duties  here  pursue, 
As  my  fond  heart  would  have  thee  do. 
Now  hear  me,  Sita,  fair  and  weak, 
And  do  the  words  that  I  shall  speak. 
Attend  and  hear  while  I  explain 
Each  danger  in  the  wood,  each  pain. 
Thy  lips  have  spoken  :  I  condemn 
The  foolish  words  that  fell  from  them, 
This  senseless  plan,  this  wish  of  thine 
To  live  a  forest  life,  resign. 
The  names  of  trouble  and  distress 
Suit  well  the  tangled  wilderness. 
In  the  wild  wood  no  joy  I  know, 
A  forest  life  is  naught  but  woe. 
The  lion  in  his  moutain  cave 
Answers  the  torrents  as  they  rave, 
And  forth  his  voice  of  terror  throws  : 
The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 


128 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  II. 


There  mighty  monsters  fearless  play, 

And  in  their  maddened  onset  slay 

The  hapless  wretch  who  near  them  goes  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

'  Tis  hard  to  ford  each  treacherous  flood, 

So  thick  with  crocodiles  and  mud, 

Where  the  wild  elephants  repose  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

Or  far  from  streams  the  wanderer  strays 

Through  thorns  and  creeper- tangled  ways, 

While  round  him  many  a  wild-cock  crows  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

On  the  cold  ground  upon  a  heap 

Of  gathered  leaves  condemned  to  sleep, 

Toil- wearied,  will  his  eyelids  close  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

Long  days  and  nights  must  he  content 

His  soul  with  scanty  aliment, 

What  fruit  the  wind  from  branches  blows  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

O  Sita,  while  his  strength  may  last, 

The  ascetic  in  the  wood  must  fast, 

Coil  on  his  head  his  matted  hair, 

And  bark  must  be  his  only  wear. 

To  Gods  and  spirits  day  by  day 

The  ordered  worship  he  must  pay, 

And  honour  with  respectful  care 

Each  wandering  guest  who  meets  him  there. 

The  bathing  rites  he  ne'er  must  shun 

At  dawn,  at  noon,  at  set  of  sun, 

Obedient  to  the  law  he  knows  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

To  grace  the  altar  must  be  brought 

The  gift  of  flowers  his  hands  have  sought — 

The  debt  each  pious  hermit  owes : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

The  devotee  muist  be  content 

To  live,  severely  abstinent, 

On  what  the  chance  of  fortune  shows  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes, 

Hunger  afflicts  him  evermore  : 

The  nights  are  black,  the  wild  winds  roar  ; 

And  there  are  dangers  worse  than  those : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

There  creeping  things  in  every  form 

Infest  the  earth,  the  serpents  swarm, 

And  each  proud  eye  with  fury  glows  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

The  snakes  that  by  the  rives  hide 

In  sinuous  course  like  rivers  glide, 

And  line  the  path  with  deadly  foes  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

Scorpions,  and  grasshoppers,  and  flies 

Disturb  the  wanderer  as  he  lies. 

And  wake  him  from  his  troubled  doze  : 

The  wood,  my  love,  is  full  of  woes. 

Trees,  thorny  bushes,  intertwined, 

Their  branches'  ends  together  bind, 

And  dense  with  grass  the  thicket  grows : 

The  wood,  my  dear,  is  full  of  woes, 

With  many  ills  the  flesh  is  tried, 


When  these  and  countless  fears  beside 
Vex  those  who  in  the  wood  remain  : 
The  wilds  are  naught  but  grief  and  pain. 
Hope,  anger  must  be  cast  aside, 
To  penance  eveiy  thought  applied  ; 
No  fear  must  be  of  things  to  fear  : 
Hence  is  the  wood  for  ever  drear. 
Enough,  my  love :  thy  purpose  quit : 
For  forest  life  thou  art  not  fit. 
As  thus  I  think  on  all,  I  see 
The  wild  wood  is  no  place  for  thee.' 


CANTO  XXIX. 


SrTA',S  APPEAL. 

Thus  Rama  spake.  Her  lord's  address 

The  lady  heard  with  deep  distress, 

And,  as  the  tear  bedimmed  her  eye, 

In  soft  low  accents  made  reply  : 

'  The  perils  of  the  wood,  and  all 

The  woes  thou  countest  to  appal, 

Led  by  my  love  I  deem  not  pain  ; 

Each  woe  a  charm,  each  loss  a  gain. 

Tiger,  and  elephant,  and  deer, 

Bull,  lion,  buffalo,  in  fear, 

Soon  as  thy  matchless  form  they  see, 

With  every  silvan  beast  will  flee. 

With  thee,  O  Rama,  I  must  go : 

My  sire's  command  ordains  it  so. 

Bereft  of  thee,  my  lonely  heart 

Must  break,  and  life  and  I  must  part. 

While  thou,  O  mighty  lord,  art  nigh, 

Not  even  He  who  rules  the  sky, 

Though  He  is  strongest  of  the  strong, 

With  all  his  might  can  do  me  wrong. 

Nor  can  a  lonely  woman  left 

By  her  dear  husband  live  bereft. 

In  my  great  love,  my  lord,  I  ween, 

The  truth  of  this  thou  mayst  have  seen. 

In  my  sire's  palace  long  ago 

1  heard  the  chief  of  those  who  know, 

The  truth-declaring  Brahmans,  tell 

My  fortune,  in  the  wood  to  dwell. 

I  heard  their  promise  who  divine 

The  future  by  each  mark  and  sign, 

And  from  that  hour  have  longed  to  lead 

The  forest  life  their  lips  decreed. 

Now,  mighty  Rama,  I  must  share 

Thy  father's  doom  which  sends  thee  there  ; 

In  this  I  will  not  be  denied, 

But  follow,  love,  where  thou  shalt  guide. 

0  husband,  I  will  go  with  thee, 
Obedient  to  that  high  decree. 

Now  let  the  Brahmans'  words  be  true, 
For  this  the  time  they  had  in  view. 

1  know  full  well  the  wood  has  woes  ; 
But  they  disturb  the  lives  of  those 
Who  in  "the  forest  dwell,  nor  hold 
Their  rebel  senses  well  controlled. 


Canto  XXX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


129 


In  my  sire's  halls,  ere  I  was  wed, 

I  heard  a  dame  who  begged  her  bread 

Before  my  mother's  face  relate 

What  griefs  a  forest  life  await. 

And  many  a  time  in  sport  I  prayed 

To  seek  with  thee  the  greenwood  shade, 

For  O,  my  heart  on  this  is  set, 

To  follow  thee,  dear  anchoret. 

May  blessings  on  thy  life  attend  : 

I  long  with  thee  my  steps  to  bend, 

For  with  such  hero  as  thou  art 

This  pilgrimage  enchants  my  heart 

Still  close,  my  lord,  to  thy  dear  side 

My  spirit  will  be  punned : 

Love  from  all  sin  my  soul  will  free  ; 

My  husband  is  a  God  to  me. 

So,  love,  with  thee  shall  I  have  bliss 

And  share  the  life  that  follows  this. 

I  heard  a  Brahman,  dear  to  fame, 

This  ancient  Scripture  text  proclaim : 

'  The  woman  whom  on  earth  below 

Her  parents  on  a  man  bestow, 

And  lawfully  their  hands  unite 

With  water  and  each  holy  rite, 

She  in  this  world  shall  be  his  wife, 

His  also  in  the  after  life.' 

Then  tell  me,  O  beloved,  why 

Thou  wilt  this  earnest  prayer  deny, 

Nor  take  me  with  thee  to  the  wood, 

Thine  own  dear  wife  so  true  and  good. 

But  if  thou  wilt  not  take  me  there 

Thus  grieving  in  my  wild  despair, 

To  fire  or  water  I  will  fly, 

Or  to  the  poisoned  draught,  and  die.' 

So  thus  to  share  his  exile,  she 
Besought  him  with  each  earnest  plea, 
Nor  could  she  yet  her  lord  persuade 
To  take  her  to  the  lonely  shade. 
The  answer  of  the  strong-armed  chief 
Smote  the  Videhan's  soul  with  grief, 
And  from  her  eyes  the  torrents  came 
Bathing  the  bosom  of  the  dame. 

CANTO  XXX. 

THE  TRIUMPH  OF  LOVE. 

The  daughter  of  Videha's  king, 
While  Rama  strove  to  soothe  the  sting 
Of  her  deep  anguish,  thus  began 
Once  more  in  furtherance  of  her  plan  : 
And  with  her  spirit  sorely  tried 
By  fear  and  anger,  love  and  pride, 
With  keenly  taunting  words  addressed 
Her  hero  of  the  stately  breast : 
'  Why  did  the  king  my  sire,  who  reigns 
O'er  fair  Videha's  wide  domains, 
Hail  Rama  son  with  joy  unwise, 
A  woman  in  a  man's  disguise  ? 


Now  falsely  would  the  people  say, 
By  idle  fancies  led  astray, 
That  Rama's  own  are  power  and  might, 
As  glorious  as  the  Lord  of  Light. 
Why  sinkest  thou  in  such  dismay  ? 
What  fears  upon  thy  spirit  weigh, 
That  thou,  O  Rama,  fain  wouldst  flee 
From  her  who  thinks  of  naught  but  thee? 
To  thy  dear  will  am  I  resigned 
In  heart  and  body,  soul  and  mind, 
As  Savitri  gave  all  to  one, 
Satyavan,  Dyumatsena's  son.1 
Not  e'en  in  fancy  can  I  brook 
To  any  guard  save  thee  to  look  : 
Let  meaner  wives  their  houses  shame, 
To  go  with  thee  is  all  my  claim. 
Like  some  low  actor,  deemst  thou  fit 
Thy  wife  to  others  to  commit— 
Thine  own,  espoused  in  maiden  youth, 
Thy  wife  so  long,  unblamed  for  truth  1 
Do  thou,  my  lord,  his  will  obey 
For  whom  thou  losest  royal  sway, 
To  whom  thou  wouldst  thy  wife  confide-* 
Not  me,  but  thee,  his  wish  may  guide. 
Thou  must  not  here  thy  wife  forsake, 
And  to  the  wood  thy  journey  make, 
Whether  stern  penance,  grief,  and  care, 
Or  rule  or  heaven  await  thee  there. 
Nor  shall  fatigue  my  limbs  distress 
When  wandering  in  the  wilderness  : 
Each  path  which  near  to  thee  I  tread 
Shall  seem  a  soft  luxurious  bed. 
The  reeds,  the  bushes  where  I  pass, 
The  thorny  trees,  the  tangled  grass 
Shall  feel,  if  only  thou  be  near, 
Soft  to  my  touch  as  skins  of  deer. 
When  the  rude  wind  in  fury  blows, 
And  scattered  dust  upon  me  throws, 
That  dust,  beloved  lord,  to  me 
Shall  as  the  precious  sandal  be. 
And  what  shall  be  more  blest  than  I, 
When  gazing  on  the  wood  I  lie 
In  some  green  glade  upon  a  bed 
With  sacred  grass  beneath  us  spread  ? 
The  root,  the  leaf,  the  fruit  which  thou 
Shalt  give  me  from  the  earth  or  bough, 
Scanty  or  plentiful,  to  eat, 
Shall  taste  to  me  as  Amrit  sweet. 
As  there  I  live  on  flowers  and  roots 
And  every  season's  kindly  fruits, 
I  will  not  for  my  mother  grieve, 
My  sire,  my  home,  or  all  I  leave. 
My  presence,  love,  shall  never  add 
One  pain  to  make  thy  heart  more  sad  ; 

1  The  story  of  Savitri,  told  in  the  Maha- 
bharat,  has  been  admirably  translated  by 
Riickert,  and  elegantly  epitomized  by  Mrs. 
Manning  in  India,  Ancient  and  Mediaeval, 
There  is  a  free  rendering  of  the  story  in 
Idylls  from  the  Sanskrit* 


130 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


I  will  not  cause  thee  grief  or  care, 
Nor  be  a  burden  hard  to  bear. 
With  thee  is  heaven,  where'er  the  spot ; 
Each  place  is  hell  where  thou  art  not. 
Then  go  with  me,  O  Rama  :  this 
Is  all  my  hope  and  all  my  bliss. 
If  thou  wilt  leave  thy  wife  who  still 
Entreats  thee  with  undaunted  will, 
This  very  day  shall  poison  close 
The  life  that  spurns  the  rule  of  foes. 
How,  after,  can  my  soul  sustain 
The  bitter  life  of  endless  pain, 
When  thy  dear  face,  my  lord,  I  miss  ? 
No,  death  is  better  far  than  this, 
Not  for  an  hour  could  I  endure 
The  deadly  grief  that  knows  not  cure, 
Far  less  a  woe  I  could  not  shun 
For  ten  long  years,  and  three,  and  one.' 
While  tires  of  woe  consumed  her,  such 
Her  sad  appeal,  lamenting  much  ; 
Then  with  a  wild  cry,  anguish -wrung, 
About  her  husband's  neck  she  olung. 
Like  some  she-elephant  who  bleeds 
Struck  by  the  hunter's  venomed  reeds, 
So  in  her  quivering  heart  she  felt 
The  many  wounds  his  speeches  dealt. 
Then,  as  the  spark  from  wood  is  gained,1 
Down  rolled  the  tear  so  long  restrained  : 
The  crystal  moisture,  sprung  from  woe, 
From  her  sweet  eyes  began  to  flow, 
As  runs  the  water  from  a  pair 
Of  lotuses  divinely  fair. 
And  Sita's  face  with  long  dark  eyes, 
Pure  as  the  moon  of  autumn  skies, 
Faded  with  weeping,  as  the  buds 
Of  lotuses  when  sink  the  floods. 
Around  his  wife  his  arms  he  strained, 
Who  senseless  from  her  woe  remained, 
And  with  sweet  words,  that  bade  her  wake 
To  life  again,  the  hero  spake  : 
*  I  would  not  with  thy  woe,  my  Queen, 
Buy  heaven  and  all  its  blissful  sheen. 
Void  of  all  fear  am  1  as  He, 
The  self -existent  God,  can  be. 
I  knew  not  all  thy  heart  till  now, 
Dear  lady  of  the  lovely  brow 
So  wished  not  thee  in  woods  to  dwell ; 
Yet  there  mine  arm  can  guard  thee  well. 
Now  surely  thou,  dear  love,  wast  made 
To  dwell  with  me  in  green  wood  shade. 
And,  as  a  high  saint's  tender  mind 
Clings  to  its  love  for  all  mankind, 
So  I  to  thee  will  ever  cling, 
Sweet  daughter  of  Videha's  king. 
The  good,  of  old,  0  soft  of  frame, 
Honoured  this  duty's  sovereign  claim, 
And  I  its  guidance  will  not  shun, 
True  as  light's  Queen  is  to  the  Sun, 


1  Fire  f  orsacrificial  purposes  is  produced 
by  the  attrition  of  two  pieces  of  wood, 


T  cannot,  pride  of  Janak's  line, 

This  journey  to  the  wood  decline  : 

My  sire's  behest,  the  oath  he  sware, 

The  claims  of  truth,  all  lead  me  there. 

One  duty,  dear  the  same  for  aye, 

Is  sire  and  mother  to  obey  : 

Should  I  their  orders  once  transgress 

My  very  life  were  weariness. 

If  glad  obedience  be  denied 

To  father,  mother,  holy  guide, 

What  rites,  what  service  can  be  done 

That  stern  Fate's  favour  may  be  won  ? 

These  three  the  triple  world  comprise, 

O  darling  of  the  lovely  eyes. 

Earth  has  nb  holy  thing  like  these 

Whom  with  all  love  men  seek  to  please. 

Not  truth,  or  gift,  or  bended  knee, 

Not  honour,  worship,  lordly  fee, 

Storms  heaven  and  wins  a  blessing  thence 

Like  sonly  love  and  reverence. 

Heaven,  riches,  grain,  and  varied  lore, 

With  sons  and  many  a  blessing  more, 

All  these  are  made  their  own  with  ease 

By  those  their  elders'  souls  who  please. 

The  mighty-souled,  who  ne'er  forget, 

Devoted  sons,  their  filial  debt, 

Win  worlds  where  Gods  and  minstrels  are, 

And  Brahma's  sphere  more  glorious  far. 

Now  as  the  orders  of  my  sire, 

Who  keeps  the  way  of  truth,  require, 

So  will  I  do,  for  such  the  way 

Of  duty  that  endures  for  aye  : 

To  take  thee,  love,  to  Dandak's  wild 

My  heart  at  length  is  reconciled, 

For  thee  such  earnest  thoughts  impel 

To  follow,  and  with  me  to  dwell. 

0  faultless  form  from  feet  to  brows, 

Come  with  me,  as  my  will  allows, 

And  duty  there  with  me  pursue, 

Trembler,  whose  bright  eyes  thrill  me 

through. 

In  all  thy  days,  come  good  come  ill, 
Preserve  unchanged  such  noble  will, 
And  thou,  dear  love,  wilt  ever  be 
The  glory  of  thy  house  and  me. 
Now,  beauteous-armed,  begin  the  tasks 
The  woodland  life  of  hermits  asks. 
For  me  the  joys  of  heaven  above 
Have  charms  no  more  without  thee,  love. 
And  now,  dear  Sita,  be  not  slow  : 
Food  on  good  mendicants  bestow, 
And  for  the  holy  Brahmans  bring 
Thy  treasures  and  each  precious  thing. 
Thy  best  attire  and  gems  collect, 
The  jewels  which  thy  beauty  decked, 
And  every  ornament  and  toy 
Prepared  for  hours  of  sport  and  joy : 
The  beds,  the  cars  wherein  I  ride, 
Among  our  followers,  next,  divide.' 

She  conscious  that  her  lord  approved 
Her  going,  with  great  rapture  moved, 


Canto  XXXI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


131 


Hastened  within,  without  delay, 
Prepared  to  give  their  wealth  away, 

CANTO  XXXI. 


LAKSHMAN'S  PRAYER. 

When  Lakshman,  who  had  joined  them 

there, 

Had  heard  the  converse  of  the  pair, 
His  mien  was  changed,  his  eyes  overflowed, 
His  breast  no  more  could  bear  its  load. 
The  son  of  Raghu,  sore  distressed, 
His  brother's  feet  with  fervour  pressed, 
While  thus  to  Sita  he  complained, 
And  him  by  lofty  vows  enchained  : 

*  If  thou  wilt  make  the  woods  thy  home, 
Where  elephant  and  roebuck  roam, 

I  too  this  day  will  take  my  bow 

And  in  the  path  before  thee  go. 

Our  way  will  lie  through  forest  ground 

Where  countless  birds  and  beasts  are  found. 

I  heed  not  homes  of  Gods  on  high, 

I  heed  not  life  that  cannot  die, 

Nor  would  I  wish,  with  thee  away, 

O'er  the  three  worlds  to  stretch  my  sway.' 

Thus  Lakshman    spake,    with    earnest 

prayer 

His  brother's  woodland  life  to  share. 
As  Rama  still  his  prayer  denied 
With  soothing  words,  again  he  cried: 
'When  leave  at  first  thou  didst  accord, 
Why  dost  thou  stay  me  now,  my  lord  ? 
Thou  art  my  refuge  :  0,  be  kind, 
Leave  me  not,  dear  my  lord,  behind. 
Thou  canst  not,  brother,  if  thou  choose 
That  I  still  live,  my  wish  refuse.' 

The  glorious  chief  his  speech  renewed 
To  faithful  Lakshman  as  he  sued, 
And  on  the  eyes  of  Rarna  gazed 
Longing  to  lead,  with  hands  upraised  : 
*  Thou  art  a  hero  just  and  dear, 
Whose  steps  to  virtue's  path  adhere, 
Loved  as  my  life  till  life  shall  end, 
My  faithful  brother  and  my  friend. 
If  to  the  woods  thou  take  thy  way 
With  Sita  and  with  me  to-day, 
Who  for  Kausalya  will  provide, 
And  guard  the  good  Sumitra's  side  ? 
The  lord  of  earth,  of  mighty  power, 
Who  sends  good  things  in  plenteous  shower. 
As  Indra  pours  the  grateful  rain, 
A  captive  lies  in  passion's  chain. 
!   The  power  imperial  for  her  son 
;   Has  As vapati's  daughter1  won, 

•  And  she,  proud  queen,  will  little  heed 
Her  miserable  rivals'  need. 


Kaikeyi. 


So  Bharat,  ruler  of  the  land, 
By  Queen  Kaikeyi's  side  will  stand, 
Nor  of  those  two  will  ever  think, 
While  grieving  in  despair  they  sink. 
Now,  Lakshman,  as  thy  love  decrees, 
Or  else  the  monarch's  heart  to  please, 
Follow  this  counsel  and  protect 
My  honoured  mother  from  neglect. 
So  thou,  while  not  to  me  alone 
'hy  great  affection  will  be  shown, 
^o  highest  duty  wilt  adhere 
*y  serving  those  thou  shouldst  revere, 
tfow,  son  of  Raghu,  for  my  sake 
Obey  this  one  request  I  make, 
Or,  of  her  darling  son  bereft, 
Kausalya  has  no  comfort  left.' 

The  faithful  Lakshman,  thus  addressed 
!n  gentle  words  which  love  expressed, 
L'o  him  in  lore  of  language  learned, 
rlis  answer,  eloquent,  returned  : 
'  Nay,  through   thy  might  each  queen 

will  share 
Attentive  Bharat's  love  and  care. 
Should  Bharat,  raised  as  king  to  sway 
This  noblest  realm,  his  trust  betray, 
N"or  for  their  safety  well  provide, 
Seduced  by  ill-suggesting  pride, 
Doubt  not  rny  vengeful  hand  shall  kill 
The  cruel  wretch  who  counsels  ill  — 
Kill  him  and  all  who  lend  him  aid, 
And  the  three  worlds  in  league  arrayed. 
And  good  Kausalya  well  can  fee 
A  thousand  champions  like  to  me. 
A  thousand  hamlets  rich  in  grain 
The  station  of  that  queen  maintain. 
She  may,  and  my  dear  mother  too, 
Live  on  this  ample  revenue. 
Then  let  me  follow  thee  :  herein  : 
Is  naught  that  may  resemble  sin. 
So  shall  I  in  my  wish  succeed, 
And  aid,  perhaps,  my  brother's  need. 
My  bow  and  quiver  well  supplied 
With  arrows  hanging  at  my  side, 
My  hands  shall  spade  and  basket  bear, 
And  for  thy  feet  the  way  prepare. 
I'll  bring  thee  roots  and  berries  sweet, 
And  woodland  fare  which  hermits  eat. 
Thou  shalt  with  thy  Videhan  spouse 
Recline  upon  the  mountain's  brows  ; 
Be  mine  the  toil,  be  mine  to  keep 
Watch  o'er  thee  waking  or  asleep.' 

Filled  by  his  speech  with  joy  and  pride* 
Rama  to  Lakshman  thus  replied: 
'  Go  then,  my  brother,  bid  adieu 
To  all  thy  friends  and  retinue. 
And  those  two  bows  of  fearful  might, 
Celestial,  which,  at  that  famed  rite, 
Lord  Varun  gave  to  Janak,  king 
Of  fair  Vedeha,  with  thee  bring, 
With  heavenly  coats  of  sword-proof  mail, 
Quivers,  whoae  arrows  never  fail, 


182 


THE  RAM  A?  AN. 


Boole  IT. 


And  golden-hilted  swords  so  keen, 
The  rivals  of  the  sun  in  sheen. 
Tended  with  care  these  arms  are  all 
Preserved  in  my  preceptor's  hall. 
With  speed,  O  Lakshman,  go,  produce, 
And  bring  them  hither  for  our  use.' 
So  on  a  woodland  life  intent, 
To  see  his  faithful  friends  he  went, 
And  brought  the  heavenly  arms  which  lay 
By  Rama's  teacher  stored  away. 
And  Raghu's  son  to  Rama  showed 
Those  wondrous  arms  which  gleamed  and 

glowed, 

Well  kept,  adorned  with  many  a  wreath 
Of  flowers  on  case,  and  hilt,  and  sheath. 
The  prudent  Kama  at  the  sight 
Addressed  his  brother  with  delight : 
'  Well  art  thou  come,  my  brother  dear. 
For  much  I  longed  to  see  thee  here. 
For  with  thine  aid,  before  I  go, 
I  would  my  gold  and  wealth  bestow 
Upon  the  Brahmans  sage,  who  school 
Their  lives  by  stern  devotion's  rule. 
Arid  for  all  those  who  ever  dwell 
Within  my  house  and  serve  me  well, 
Devoted  servants,  true  and  good, 
Will  I  provide  a  livelihood. 

Quick,  go  and  summon  to  this  place 
The  good  Vasishtha's  son, 

Suyajna,  of  the  Brahman  race 
The  h'rst  and  holiest  one, 

To  all  the  Brahmans  wise  and  good 
Will  I  due  reverence  pay, 

Then  to  the  solitary  wood 
With  thee  will  take  my  way.' 


CANTO  XXXII. 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  TREASURES, 

That  speech  so  noble  which  conveyed 
His  friendty  wish,  the  chief  obeyed. 
With  steps  made  swift  by  anxious  thought 
The  wise  Suyajna's  home  he  sought. 
Him  in  the  hall  of  Fire1  he  found, 
And  bent  before  him  to  the  ground: 
*  O  friend,  to  Rama's  house  return, 
Who  now  performs  a  task  most  stern.' 
He,  when  his  noonday  rites  were  done, 
Went  forth  with  fair'Sumitra's  son, 
And  came  to  Rama's  bright  abode 
Kich  in  the  love  which  Lakshmi  showed. 
The  son  of  Raghu,  with  his  dame. 
With  joined  hands  met  him  as  he  came, 
Showing  to  him  who  Scripture  knew 
The  worship  that  is  Agni's  due. 


1  The  chapel  where  the  sacred  lire  used 
in  worship  ia  kept. 


With  armlets,  bracelets,  collars,  rings, 
With  costly  pearls  on  golden  strings. 
With  many  a  gem  for  neck  and  limb 
The  son  of  Raghu  honoured  him. 
Then  Rama,  at  his  wife's  request, 
The  wise  Suyajna  thus  addressed*: 
'  Accept  a  necklace  too  to  deck 
With  golden  strings  thy  spouse's  neck. 
And  Sita  here,  my  friend,  were  glad 
A  girdle  to  her  gift  to  add. 
And  many  a  bracelet  wrought  with  care, 
And  many  an  armlet  rich  and  rare, 
My  wife  to  thine  is  fain  to  give, 
Departing  in  the  wood  to  live. 
A  bed  by  skilful  workmen  made, 
With  gold  and  various  gema  inlaid — 
This  too,  before  she  goen.  would  she 
Present,  O  saintly  friend,  to  thee. 
Thine  be  my  elephant,  so  famed, 
My  uncle's  present,  Victor  named; 
And  let  a  thousand  coins  of  gold, 
Great  Brahman,  with  the  gift  be  told.' 
Thus  Rama  spoke :  nor  he  declined 
The  noble  gifts  for  him  designed. 
On  Rama,  Lakshman,  Sita  he 
Invoked  all  high  felicity. 

In  pleasant  words  then  Rama  gave 
His  best  to  Lakshmau  prompt  and  brave, 
As  Brahma  speaks  for  Him  to  hear 
Who  rules  the  Gods'  celestial  sphere : 
'  To  the  two  best  of  Brahmans  run  ; 
Agastya  bring,  and  Kusik's  son, 
And  precious  gifts  upon  them  rain, 
Like  fostering  floods  upon  the  grain. 
O  long-armed  Prince  of  Raghu's  line, 
Delight  them  with  a  thousand  kine, 
And  many  a  fair  and  costly  gem, 
With  gold  and  silver,  give  to  them. 
To  him.  so  deep  in  Scripture,  who, 
To  Queen  Kausalya  ever  true, 
Serves  her  with  blessing  and  respect, 
Chief  of  the  Taittiriya  sect1  — 
To  him,  with  women-slaves,  present 
A  chariot  rich  with  ornament, 
And  costly  robes  of  silk  beside, 
Until  the  sage  be  satisfied. 
On  Chitraratha,  true  and  dear, 
My  tuneful  bard  and  charioteer, 
Gems,  robes,  and  plenteous  wealth  confer—- 
Mine ancient  friend  and  minister. 
And  these  who  go  with  staff  in  hand, 
Grrammariaus  trained,  a  numerous  band, 
Who  their  deep  study  only  prize, 
STor  think  of  other  exercise, 
Who  toil  not,  loving  dainty  fare, 
Whose  praises  e'en  the  good  declare — 
On  these  be  eighty  cars  bestowed. 
And  each  with  precious  treasures  load. 


1  The  students  amd  teachers  of  the  Tait- 
iriya  portion  of  the  Yajur  Veda, 


Canto  xxxnr. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


133 


A  thousand  bulls  for  them  suffice, 
Two  hundred  elephants  of  price, 
And  let  a  thousand  kine  beside 
The  dainties  of  each  meal  nrov7ide. 
The  throng  who  sacred  gi rales  wear, 
And  on  Kausalya  wait  with  care- 
A  thousand  golden  coins  shall  please, 
Son  of  Sumitra,  each  of  these. 
Let  all,  dear  Lakshman.  of  the  train 
These  special  gifts  of  honour  gain; 
IVIy  mother  will  rejoice  to  know 
Her  Brahmans  have  been  cherished  so.' 

Then  Raghu's  son  addressed  the  crowd 
Who  round  him  stood  and  wept  aloud, 
When  he  to  all  who  thronged  the  court 
Had  dealt  his  wealth  for  their  support: 

*  In  Lakshman's  house  and  mine  remain, 
And  guard  them  till  I  come  again.' 

To  all  his  people  sad  with  grief, 
In  loving  words  thus  spoke  their  chief, 
Then  bade  his  treasure-keeper  bring 
Gold,  silver,  and  each  precious  thing. 
Then  straight  the  servants  went  and  bore 
Back  to  their  chief  the  wealth  in  store, 
Before  the  people's  eyes  it  shone, 
A  glorius  pile  to  look  upon. 
The  prince  of  men  with  Lakshman's  aid 
Parted  the  treasures  there  displayed, 
Gave  to  the  poor,  the  young,  the  old, 
And  twice-born  men,  the  gems  and  gold. 

A  Brahman,  long  in  evil  case, 
Named  Trijat,  born  of  Garga's  race, 
Earned  ever  toiling  in  a  wood 
With  spade  and  plough  his  livelihood. 
The  youthful  wife,  his  babes  who  bore, 
Their  indigence  felt  more  and  more. 
Thus  to  the  aged  man  she  spake: 

*  Hear  this  my  word:  my  counsel  take. 
Come,  throw  thy  spade  and  plough  away; 
To  virtuous  Rain  a  go  to-day, 

And  somewhat  of  his  kindness  pray.' 
He  heard  the  words  she  spoke:  around 

His  limbs  his  ragged  cloth  he  wound, 

And  took  his  journey  by  the  road 

That  led  to  Rama's  fair  abode. 

To  the  fifth  court  he  made  his  way; 

Nor  met  the  Brahman  check  or  stay, 

Brighu,  Angiras1  could  not  be 

Brighter  with  saintly  light  than  he. 

To  Rama's  presence  on  he  pressed, 
i    And  thus  the  noble  chief  addressed : 
*  O  Rama,  poor  and  weak  am  I, 
And  many  children  round  me  cry. 
Scant  living  in  the  woods  I  earn : 
On  me  thine  eye  of  pity  turn.' 
And  Rama,  bent  on  sport  and  jest, 
The  suppliant  Brahman  thus  addressed : 


0  aged  man,  one  thousand  kine, 

fet  undistributed,  are  mine. 

?he  cows  on  thee  will  I  bestow 
As  far  as  thou  thy  staff  canst  throw.' 
The  Brahman  heard.    In  eager  haste 

Ie  bound  his  cloth  around  his  waist. 

Then  round  his  head  his  staff  he  whirled, 
And  forth  with  mightiest  effort  hurled. 

Dast  from  his  hand  it  flew,  and  sank 

To  earth  on  Sarju's  farther  bank, 

Vhere  herds  of  kine  in  thousands  fed 

!^ear  to  the  well -stocked  bullock  shed. 
And  all  the  cows  that  wandered  o'er 

The  meadow,  far  as  Sarju's  shore, 
At  Ramas  word  the  herdsmen  drove 

L'o  Trijat's  cottage  in  the  grove. 

ile  drew  the  Brahman  to  his  breast, 
And  thus  with  calming  words  addressed: 

Now  be  not  angry,  Sire,  I  pray : 
This  jest  of  mine  was  meant  in  play. 
These  thousand  kine,  but  not  alone. 
Their  herdsmen  too,  are  all  thine  own. 
And  wealth  beside  I  give  thee  :  speak, 
Thine  shall  be  all  thy  heart  can  seek.' 
Thus  Rama  spake.    And  Trijat  prayed 

For  means  his  sacrifice  to  aid. 

And  Rarna  gave  much  wealth,  required 

To  speed  his  offering  as  desired, 


CANTO  XXXIII. 


1  Two  of  the  ten  divine  personages  calle< 
Prajdpatis  and  Brakmddikas  who  wer 
first  created  by  Brahma. 


THE  PEOPLE'S  LAMENT. 

Thus  Sita  and  the  princes  brave 

Much  wealth  to  all  the  Brahmans  gave 

Then  to  the  monarch's  house  the  three 

Went  forth  the  aged  king  to  see. 

The  princes  from  two  servants  took 

Those  heavenly  arms  of  glorious  look, 

Adorned  with  garland  and  with  band 

By  Sita's  beautifying  hand. 

On  each  high  house  a  mournful  throng 

Had  gathered  ere  they  passed  along, 

Who  gazed  in  pure  unselfish  woe 

From,  turret,  roof,  and  portico. 

So  dense  the  crowd  that  blocked  the  ways, 

The  rest,  unable  there  to  gaze. 

Were  fain  each  terrace  to  ascend, 

And  thence  their  eyes  on  Kama  bend. 

Then  as  the  gathered  multitude 

On  foot  their  well-loved  R&ma  viewed, 

No  royal  shade  to  screen  his  head, 

Such  words,  disturbed  by  grief,  they  said: 

1  0  look,  our  hero,  wont  to  ride 

Leading  a  host  in  perfect  pride — 

Now  Lakshman,  sole  of  all  his  friends, 

With  Sitd  on  his  steps  attends. 

Though  he  has  known  the  sweets  of  power, 

And  poured  his  gifts  in  liberal  shower, 

From  duty's  path  he  waH  not  swerve, 


134 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


But  still  his  father's  truth  preserve. 
And  she  whose  form  so  soft  ami  fair 
Was  veiled  from  spirits  of  the  air. 
Now  walks  unsheltered  from  the  day, 
Seen  by  the  crowds  who  throng  the  way. 
Ah,  for  that  gently-nurtured  form! 
How  will  it  fade  with  sun  and  storm! 
How  will  the  rain,  the  cold,  the  heat 
Mar  fragrant  breast  and  tinted  feet! 
'Surely  some  demon  has  possessed 
His  sire,  and  speaks  within  his  breast, 
Or  how  could  one  that  is  a  king 
Thus  send  his  dear  son  wandering  ? 
It  were  a  deed  unkindly  done 
To  banish  e'en  a  worthless  son : 
But  what,  when  his  pure  life  has  gained 
Ihe  hearts  of  all,  by  love  enchained? 
Six  sovereign  virtues  join  to  grace 
Kama  the  foremost  of  his  race : 
Tender  and  kind  and  pure  is  he, 
Docile,  religious,  passion-free. 
Hence  misery  strikes  not  him  alone : 
In  bitterest  grief  the  people  moan, 
Like  creatures  of  the  stream,  when  dry 
In  the  great  heat  the  channels  lie. 
The  world  is  mournful  with  the  grief 
That  falls  on  its  beloved  chief, 
As,  when  the  root  is  hewn  away, 
Tree,  fruit,  and  flower,  and  bud  decay, 
The  soul  of  duty,  bright  to  see, 
He  is  the  root  of  you  and  me; 
And  all  of  us,  who  share  his  grief, 
His  branches,  blossom,  fruit,  and  leaf. 
Now  like  the  faithful  Lakshman,  we 
Will  follow  and  be  true  as  he; 
Our  wives  and  kinsmen  call  with  speed, 
And  hasten  where  our  lord  shall  lead. 
Yes,  we  will  leave  each  well-loved  spot, 
The  field,  the  garden,  and  the  cot, 
And.  sharers  of  his  weal  and  woe, 
Behind  the  pious  Rama  go. 
Our  houses,  empty  of  their  stores, 
Writh  ruined  courts  and  broken  doors, 
With  all  their  treasures' borne  away. 
And  gear  that  made  them  bright  and  gay: 
O'errun  by  rats,  with  dust  o'erspread, 
Shrines,  whence  the  deities  have  fled, 
Where  not  a  hand  the  water  pours, 
Or  sweeps  the  long-neglected  floors, 
No  incense  loads  the  evening  air. 
No  Brahmans  chant  the  text  and  prayer, 
No  tire  of  sacrifice  is  bright, 
No  gift  is  known,  no  sacred  rite; 
With  floors  which  broken  vessels  strew, 
As  if  our  woes  had  crushed  them  too — 
Of  these  be  stern  Kaikeyi  queen. 
And  rule  o'er  homes  where  we  have  been. 
The  wood  where  Kama's  feet  may  roam 
Shall  be  our  city  arid  our  home, 
And  this  fair  city  we  forsake, 
Our  flight  a  wilderness  shall  make. 


Each  serpent  from  his  hole  shall  hie, 
The  birds  and  beasts  from  mountain  fly, 
Lions  and  elephants  in  fear 
Shall  quit  the  woods  when  we  come  near, 
Yield  tiie  broad  wilds  for  us  to  range, 
And  take  our  city  in  exchange. 
With  Kama  will  we  hence,  content 
If,  where  he  is,  our  days  be  spent.' 

Such  were  the  varied  words  the  crowd 
Of  all  conditions  spoke  aloud. 
And  Kama  heard  their  speeches,  yet 
Changed  not  his  purpose  firmly  set. 
His  father's  palace  soon  he  neared, 
That  like  Kaiiasa's  hill  appeared. 
Like  a  wild  elephant  he  strode 
Right  onward  to  the  bright  abode. 
Within  the  palace  court  he  stepped, 
Where  ordered  bands  their  station  kept, 
And  saw  Sumaiitra  standing  near 
With  down-cast  eye  and  gloomy  cheer. 


CANTO  XXXIV. 


RAMA  IN  THE  PALACE. 

The  dark  incomparable  chief 
Whose  eye  was  like  a  lotus  leaf, 
Cried  to  the  mournful  charioteer, 
4  Go  tell  my  sire  that  I  am  here;' 

Sumantra,  sad  and  all  dismayed, 
The  chieftain's  order  swift  obeyed. 
Within  the  palace  doors  he  hied 
And  saw  the  king,  who  wept  and  sighed. 
Like  the  great  sun  when  wrapped  in  shade, 
Like  fire  by  ashes  overlaid, 
Or  like  a  pool  with  waters  dried, 
So  lay  the  world's  great  lord  and  pride. 
Awhile  the  wise  Sumantra  gazed. 
On  him  whose  senses  woe  has  dazed, 
Grieving  for  Kama.     Near  he  drew 
With  hands  upraised  in  reverence  due. 
With  blessing  first  his  king  he  hailed; 
Then  with  a  voice  that  well-nigh  failed, 
In  trembling  accents  soft  and  low 
Addressed  the  monarch  in  his  woe: 
*  The  prince  of  men,  thy  Kama,  waits 
To  see  thee  at  the  palace  gates. 
His  wealth  to  Brahmans  he  has  dealt, 
And  all  who  in  his  home  have  dwelt. 
Admit  thy  son.     His  friends  have  heard 
His  kind  farewell  and  parting  word. 
He  longs  to  see  thee  first,  and  then 
Will  seek  the  wilds,  O  King  of  men. 
He,  with  each  princely  virtue's  blaze, 
Shines  as  the  sun  engirt  by  rays.' 

The  truthful  king  who  loved  to  keep 
The  law.  profound  as  Ocean's  deep, 
And  stainless  as  the  dark  blue  .sky, 
Thus  to  Sumaiitra  made  reply  : 


Canto  XXX I V. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


135 


Go  then,  Sumantra,  go  and  call 
My  wives  and  ladies  one  and  all, 
3rawn  round  me  shall  they  fill  the  place 
When  1  behold  my  Kama's  face.' 

Quick  to  the  inner  rooms  he  sped, 
!Lnd  thus  to  all  the  women  said, 
Come,  at  the  summons  of  the  king  : 
Dome  all.  and  make  no  tarrying.' 

Their  husband's  word,  by  him  conveyed, 
3oon  as  they  heard,  the  dames  obeyed, 
knd  following  his  guidance  all 
Jame  thronging  to  the  regal  hall, 
[n  number  half  seven  hundred,  they, 
&11  lovely  dames,  in  long  array, 
With  their  bright  eyes  for  weeping  red, 
l"o  stand  round  Queen  Kau.salya,  sped. 
1'hey  gathered,  and  the  monarch  viewed 
One  moment  all  the  multitude, 
fhen  to  Sumantra  spoke  and  said  : 
'Now  let  my  son  be  hither  led.' 

Sumantra  went.    Then  Rama  came, 
And  Lakshman,  and  the  Maithil  daine, 
And,  as  he  led  'them  on,  their  guide 
Straight  to  the  monarch's  presence  hied. 
When  yet  far  off  the  father  saw 
Bis  son  with  raised  palms  toward  him  draw, 
Grirt  by  his  ladies,  sick  with  woes, 
Swift  from  his  royal  seat  he  rose. 
With  all  his  strength  the  aged  man 
To  meet  his  darling  Rama  ran, 
But  trembling,  wild  with  dark  despair, 
Fell  on  the  ground  and  fainted  there. 
And  Lakshman,  wont  in  cars  to  ride, 
And  Rama,  threw  them  by  the  side 
Of  the  poor  miserable  king, 
Half  lifeless  with  his  sorrow's  sting. 
Throughout  the  spacious  hall  up  went 
A  thousand  women's  wild  lament : 
'Ah  Rama!'  thus  they  wailed  and  wept, 
And  anklets  tinkled  as  they  stepped. 
Around  his  body,  weeping,  threw 
Their  loving  arms  the  brothers  two, 
And  then,  with  Sita's  gentle  aid, 
The  king  upon  a  couch  was  laid. 
At  length  to  earth's  imperial  lord, 
When  life  and  knowledge  were  restored, 
Though  seas  of  woe  went  o'er  his  head, 
With  suppliant  hands  thus  Rama  said: 
1  Lord  of  us  all,  great  King,  thou  art : 
Bid  me  farewell  before  we  part. 
To  Dandak  wood  this  day  1  go  : 
One  blessing  and  one  look  bestow. 
Let  Lakshman  my  companion  be, 
And  Sita  also  follow  me. 
With  truthful  pleas  I  sought  to  bend 
Their  purpose;  but  no  ear  they  lend. 
Now  cast  this  sorrow  from  thy  heart, 
And  let  us  all,  great  King,  depart, 
As  Brahma  sends  his  children,  so 
ILet  Lakshman,  me,  and  Sita  go.' 

He  stood  unmoved,  and  watched  intent 


Until  the  king  should  grant  consent. 
Upon  his  son  his  eyes  he  cast, 
And  thus  the  monarch  spake  at  last : 
'  0  Rama,  by  her  arts  enslaved, 
I  gave  the  boons  Kaikeyi  craved, 
Unfit  to  reign,  by  her  misled  : 
Be  ruler  in  thy  father's  stead.' 

Thus  by  the  lord  of  men  addressed, 
Rama,  of  virtue's  friends  the  best, 
In  lore  of  language  duly  learned, 
His  answer,  reverent,  thus  returned  : 
'  A  thousand  years,  O  King,  remain 
O'er  this  our  city  still  to  reign. 
I  in  the  woods  my  life  will  lead  : 
The  lust  of  rule  no  more  I  heed. 
Nine  years  and  five  I  there  will  spend, 
And  when  the  portioned  days  shall  end, 
Will  come,  my  vows  and  exile  o'er, 
And  clasp  thy  feet,  my  King,  once  more.' 

A  captive  in  the  snare  of  truth, 
Weeping,  distressed  with  woe  and  ruth, 
Thus  spake  the  monarch,  while  the  queen 
Kaikeyi  urged  him  on  unseen  : 
'  Go  then,  O  Rama,  and  begin 
Thy  course  unvext  by  fear  and  sin  : 
Go,  my  beloved  son,  and  earn 
Success,  and  joy,  and  safe  return. 
So  fast  the  bonds  of  duty  bind, 

0  Raghu's  son,  thy  truthful  mind, 

That  naught  can  turn  thee  back,  or  guide 

Thy  will  so  strongly  fortified, 

But  O,  a  little  longer  stay, 

Nor  turn  thy  steps  this  night  away, 

That  I  one  little  day — alas  \ 

One  only — with  my  son  may  pass. 

Me  and  thy  mother  do  not  slight, 

But  stay,  my  son,  with  rne  to-night ; 

With  every  dainty  please  thy  taste, 

And  seek  to-morrow  morn  the  waste, 

Hard  is  thy  task.  O  Raghu's  son, 

Dire  is  the  toil  thou  wilt  not  shun, 

Far  to  the  lonely  wood  to  flee, 

And  leave  thy  friends  for  love  of  me. 

1  swear  it  by  my  truth,  believe, 
For  thee,  my  son,  I  deeply  grieve, 
Misguided  by  the  traitress  dame 

With  hidden  guile  like  smouldering  flame. 
Now,  by  her  wicked  counsel  stirred. 
Thou  fain  wouldst  keep  my  plighted  word. 
No  marvel  that  my  eldest  born 
Would  hold  me  true  when  I  have  sworn.' 

Then  Rama  having  calmly  heard 
His  wretched  father  speak  each  word, 
With  Lakshman  standing  by  his  side 
Thus,  humbly,  to  the  king  replied  : 
'If  dainties  now  my  taste  resale, 
To-morrow  must  those  dainties  fail. 
This  day  departure  I  prefer 
To  all  that  wealth  can  minister. 
O'er  this  fair  land,  no  longer  mine, 
Which  I,  with  all  her  realin*s,  resign, 


136 


THE  RAMA  TAN. 


Boole  II. 


Her  multitudes  of  men,  her  grain, 

Her  stores  of  wealth,  let    Bharat  reign. 

And  let  the  promised  boon  which  thou 

Wast  pleased  to  grant  the  queen  ere  now, 

Be  hers  in  full.     He  true,  O   King, 

Kind  giver  of  each  precious  thing. 

Thy  spoken  word  I  still  will  heed, 

Obeying  all  thy  lips  decreed  ; 

And  fourteen  years  in  woods  will  dwell 

With  those  who  live  in  glade  and  dell. 

No  hopes  of  power  my  heart  can  touch, 

No  selfish  joys  attract  so  much 

As.  son  of  Kaghu,  to  fulfil 

With  heart  and  soul  my  father's  will, 

Dismiss,  dismiss  thy  needless  woe, 

Nor  let  those  drowning  torrents  flow  : 

The  Lord  of  Rivers  in  his  pride 

Keeps  to  the  banks  that  bar  his  tide. 

Here  in  thy  presence  I  declare  ; 

J'>y  thy  good  deeds,  thy  truth,  I  swear  ; 

Nor  lordship,  joy,  nor  lands  I  prize  ; 

Life,  heaven,  all  blessings  I  despise  ; 

I  wish  to  see  thee  still  remain 

Most  true,  O  King,  and  free  from  stain. 

It  must  not,  Sire,  it  must  not  be  : 

I  cannot  rest  one  hour  with  thee. 

Then  bring  this  sorrow  to  an  end, 

For  naught  my  settled  will  can  bend. 

I  gave  a  pledge  that  binds  me  too, 

And  to  that  pledge  I  still  am  true. 

Kaikeyi  bade  me  speed  away  : 

She  prayed  me,  and  I  answered  yea. 

Pine  not  for  me,  and  weep  no  more  ; 

The  wood  for  us  has  joy  in  store, 

Filled  with  the  wild  deer's  peaceful  herds 

And  voices  of  a  thousand  birds. 

A  father  is  the  God  of  each, 

Yea,  e'en  of  Gods,  so  Scriptures  teach  : 

And  I  will  keep  my  sire's  decree, 

For  as  a  God  I  honour  thee. 

O  best  of  men,  the  time  is  nigh, 

The  fourteen  years  will  soon  pass  by 

And  to  thine  eyes  thy  son  restore: 

Be  comforted,  and  weep  no  more. 

Thou  with  thy  firmness  shouldst  support 

These  weepingcrowds  who  throngthe  court; 

Then  why,  O  chief  of  high  renown, 

So  troubled,  and  thy  soul  cast  down  ?' 

CANTO  XXXV. 


KAIKEYI  REPROACHED. 

Wild  with  the  rage  he  could  not  calm, 
Sumantra,  grinding  palm  on  palm, 
His  head  in  quick  impatience  shook, 
And  sighed  with  woe  he  could  not  brook. 
He  gnashed  his  teeth,  his  eyes  were  red, 
From  his  changed  face  the  colour  fled. 
In  rage  and  grief  that  kaew  no  law, 


The  temper  of  the  king  he  saw. 
With  his  word-arrows  swift  and  keen 
He  shook  the  bosom  of  the  queen. 
With  scorn,  as  though  its  lightning  stroke 
Would  blast  her  body,  thus  he  spoke  : 
'  Thou,  who,  of  no  dread  sin  afraid, 
Hast  Dasaratha's  self  betrayed, 
Lord  of  the  world,  whose  might  sustain 
Each  thing  that  moves  or  fixed  remains, 
What  direr  crime  is  left  thee  now  ? 
Death  to  thy  lord  and  house  art  thou, 
Whose  cruel  deeds  the  king  distress, 
Mahendra's  peer  in  mightiness, 
Firm  as  the  mountain's  rooted  steep, 
Enduring  as  the  Ocean's  deep. 
Despise  not  Da'aratha,  he 
Is  a  kind  lord  and  friend  to  thee. 
A  loving  wife  in  worth  outruns 
The  mother  of  ten  million  sons. 
Kings,  when  their  sires  have  passed  away, 
Succeed  by  birthright  to  the  sway. 
Ikshvaku's  son  still  rules  the  state, 
Yet  thou  this  rule  wouldst  violate. 
Yea,  let  thy  son,  Kaikeyi,  rei^n, 
Let  Bharat  rule  his  sire's  domain. 
Thy  will,  O  Queen,  shall  none  oppose  : 
We  all  will  go  where  Rama  goes. 
No  Brahman,  scorning  thee,  will  rest 
Within  the  realm  thou  governest, 
But  all  will  fly  indignant  hence  : 
So  great  thy  trespass  and  offence. 
I  marvel,  when  thy  crime  I  see, 
Karth  yawns  not  quick  to  swallow  thee  ; 
And  that  the  Brahman  saints  prepare 
No  burning  scourge  thy  soul  to  scare, 
With  cries  of  shame  to  smite  thee,  bent 
Upon  our  Rama's  banishment. 
The  Mango  tree  with  axes  fell, 
And  tend  instead  the  Neem  tree  well, 
Still  watered  with  all  care  the  tree 
Will  never  sweet  and  pleasant  be. 
Thy  mother's  faults  to  thee  descend, 
Ancl  with  thy  borrowed  nature  blend. 
True  is  the  ancient  saw  :  the  Neem 
Can  ne'er  distil  a  honeyed  stream. 
Taught  by  the  tale  of  long  ago 
Thy  mother's  hateful  sin  we  know. 
A  bounteous  saint,  as  all  have  heard, 
A  boon  upon  thy  sire  conferred, 
And  all  the  eloquence  revealed 
That  fills  the  wood,  the  flood,  the  field. 
No  creature  walked,  or  swam,  or  flew, 
But  he  its  varied  language  knew. 
One  morn  upon  his  couch  he  heard 
The  chattering  of  a  gorgeous  bird, 
!  And  as  he  marked  its  close  intent 
He  laughed  aloud  in  merriment. 
Thy  mother  furious  with  her  lord, 
And  fain  to  perish  by  the  cord, 
i  Said  to  her  husband :   '  I  would  know, 
O  Monarch,  why  thou  laughest  80.' 


Canto  XXXVI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


137 


The  king  in  answer  spake  again  : 
'  If  1  this  laughter  should  explain, 
This  very  hour  would  be  my  last, 
For  death,  be  sure  would  follow  fast/ 
Again  thy  mother,  flushed  with  ire, 
To  Kekaya  spake,  thy  royal  sire : 
'Tell  me  the  cause  :  then  live  or  die  : 
I  will  not  brook  thy  laugh,  not  I.' 
Thus  by  his  darling  wife  addressed, 
The  king  whose  might  all  earth  confessed, 
To  that  kind  saint  his  story  told 
Who  gave  the  wondrous  gift  of  old. 
He  listened  to  the  king's  complaint, 
And  thus  in  answer  spoke  the  saint : 
'  King,  let  her  quit  thy  home  or  die, 
But  never  with  her  prayer  comply,' 
The  saint's  reply  his  trouble  stilled, 
And  all  his  heart  with  pleasure  filled. 
Thy  mother  from  his  home  he  sent, 
And  days  like  Lord  Kuvera's  spent. 
So  thou  wouldst  force  the  king,  misled 
By  thee,  in  evil  paths  to  tread, 
And  bent  on  evil  wouldst  begin, 
Through  folly,  this  career  of  sin. 
Most  true,  methinks,  in  thee  is  shown 
The  ancient  saw  so  widely  known  : 
The  sons  their  fathers'  worth  declare 
And  girls  their  mothers'  nature  share, 
bo  be  not  thou.    For  pity's  saKe 
Accept  the  word  the  monarch  spake, 
Thy  husband's  will,  O  Queen,  obey, 
And  be  the  people's  hope  and  stay, 
O,  do  not,  urged  by  folly,  draw 
The  king  to  tread  on  duty's  law, 
The  lord  who  all  the  world  sustains, 
Bright  as  the  God  o'er  Gods  who  reigns. 
Our  glorious  king,  by  sin  unstained, 
Will  never  grant  what  fraud  obtained  ; 
No  shade  of  fault  in  him  is  seen: 
Let  Kama  be  anointed,  Queen. 
Remember,  Queen,  undying  shame 
Will  through  the  world  pursue  thy  name, 
If  Rama  leave  the  king  his  sire, 
And,  banished,  to  the  wood  retire. 
Come,  from  thy  breast  this  fever  fling: 
Of  his  own  realm  be  Rama  king. 
None  in  this  city  e'er  can  dwell 
To  tend  and  love  thee  half  so  well. 
When  Rama  sits  in  royal  place, 
True  to  the  custom  of  his  race 
Our  monarch  of  the  mighty  bow 
;A  hermit  to  the  woods  will  go.'1 


It  was  the  custom  of  the  kings  of  the 
solar  dynasty  to  resign  in  their  extreme 
old  age  the  kingdom  to  the  heir,  and 
spend  the  remainder  of  their  days  in  holy 
meditation  in  the  forest : 
For  such  through  ages  in  their  life's  decline 
[a  the  ,good  custom  of  Ikshvaku's  line.' 

Raghuvahsa. 


Sumantra  thus,  palm  joined  to  palm, 
Poured  forth  his  words  of  bane  and  balm, 
With  keen  reproach,  with  pleading  kind, 
Striving  to  move  Kaikeyi's  mind. 
In  vain  he  prayed,  in  vain  reproved, 
She  heard  unsoftened  and  unmoved. 
Nor  could  the  eyes  that  watched  her  view 
One  yielding  look,  one  change  of  hue. 

CANTO  XXXVI. 


SIDDHARTH'S  SPEECH. 

Ikshvaku's  son  with  anguish  torn 
For  the  great  oath  his  lips  had  sworn, 
With  tears  and  stghs  of  sharpest  pain 
Thus  to  Sumantra  spake  again  : 
'  Prepare  thou  quick  a  perfect  force, 
Cars,  elephants,  and  foot,  and  horse, 
To  follow  Raghu's  scion  hence 
Equipped  with  all  magnificence. 
Let  traders  with  the  wealth  they  sell. 
And  those  who  charming  stories  tell, 
And  dancing- women  fair  of  face, 
The  prince's  ample  chariots  grace. 
On  all  the  train  who  throng  his  courts, 
And  those  who  share  his  manly  sports, 
Great  gifts  of  precious  wealth  bestow, 
And  bid  them  with  their  master  go. 
Let  noble  arms,  and  many  a  wain, 
And  townsmen  swell  the  prince's  train ; 
And  hunters  best  for  woodland  skill 
Their  places  in  the  concourse  fill. 
While  elephants  and  deer  he  slays, 
Drinking  wood  honey  as  he  strays, 
And  looks  on  streams  ea?h  fairer  yet, 
His  kingdom  he  may  chance  forget. 
Let  all  my  gold  and  wealth  of  corn 
With  Rama  to  the  wilds  be  born  ; 
For  it  will  soothe  the  exile's  lot 
To  sacrifice  in  each  pure  spot, 
Deal  ample  largess  forth,  and  meet 
Each  hermit  in  his  calm  retreat. 
The  wealth  shall  Rama  with  him  bear  : 
Ayodhyd  shall  be  Bharat's  share.' 

As  thus  Kakutstha's  offspring  spoke, 
Fear  in  Kaikeyi's  breast  awoke. 
The  freshness  of  her  face  was  dried, 
Her  trembling  tongue  was  terror-tied. 
Alarmed  and  sad,  with  bloodless  cheek, 
She  turned  to  him  and  scarce  could  speak : 
'  Nay,  Sire,  but  Bharat  shall  not  gain 
An  empty  realm  where  none  remain. 
My  Bharat  shall  not  rule  a  waste 
Reft  of  all  sweets  to  charm  the  taste — 
The  wine-cup's  dregs,  all  dull  and  dead, 
Whence  the  light  foam  and  life  are  fled.1 

Thus  in  her  rage  the  long-eyed  dame 
Spoke  her  dire  speech  untouched  by  shame. 


138 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


Then,  answering,  Dasaratha  spoke  : 

'Why.  having  bowed  me  to  the  yoke, 
Dost  thou,  must  cruel,  spur  and  goad 
Me  who  am  struggling  with  the  load? 
Why  didst  thou  not  oppose  at  first 
This  hope,  vile  Queen,  so  fondly  nursed  ?' 

Scarce  could; the  monarch's  angry  speech 
The  ears  of  the  fair  lady  reach. 
When  thus,  with  double  wrath  inflamed, 
Kaikeyi  to  the  king  exclaimed : 

'  Sagar,  from  whom  thy  line  is  traced, 
Drove  forth  his  eldest  son  disgraced, 
Called  Asamanj,  whose  fate  we  know  : 
Thus  should  thy  son  to  exile  go.' 

1  Fie  on  thee,  dame !'  the  monarch  said  ; 
Each  of  her  people  bent  his  head, 
And  stood  in  shame  and  sorrow  mute  : 
She  marked  not,  bold  and  resolute. 
Then  great  Siddharth,  inflamed  with  rage, 
The  good  old  councillor  and  sage 
On  whose  wise  rede  the  king  relied, 
To  Queen  Kaikeyi  thus  replied  : 
4  But  Asamanj  the  cruel  laid 
His  hands  on'infants  as  they  played, 
Cast  them  to  Sarju's  flood,  and  smiled 
For  pleasure  when  he  drowned  a  child.' l 
The  people  saw,  and,  furious,  sped 
Straight  the  the  king  his  sire  and  said : 

*  Choose  us,  0  glory  of  the  throne, 
Choose  us.  or  Asamanj  alone.' 
'Whence  comes  this  dread  ?' the  monarch 

oried  ; 
And  all  the  people  thus  replied  : 

*  In  folly,  King,  he  loves  to  lay 
Fierce  hands  upon  our  babes  at  play, 
Casts  them  to  Sarju's  flood  and  joys 
To  murder  our  bewildered  boys.' 
With  heedful  ear  the  king  of  men 
Heard  each  complaining  citizen. 

To  please  their  troubled  minds  he  strove, 
Ana  from  the  state  his  son  he  dro/e. 
With  wife  and  gear  upon  a  car 
He  placedahim  quick,  and  sent  him  far. 


i  See  Book  I.,  Canto  XXXIX.  An  Indian 
prince  in  more  modern  times  appears  to 
have  diverted  himself  in  a  similar  way. 

It  is  still  reported  in  Belgaum  that  Appay 
Deasy  was  wont  to  amuse  himself  "by 
making  several  young^  and  beautiful 
women  stand  side  by  side  on  a  narrow 
balcony,  without  a  parapet,  overhanging 
the  deep  reservoir  at  the  new  palace  in 
Kipani.  He  used  then  to  pass  along  the 
line  of  trembling  creatures,  and  suddenly 
thrusting  one  of  them  headlong  into  the 
water  below,  he  used  to  watch  her  drown- 
ing, and  derive  pleasure  from  her  dying 
agonies." — History  of  the  Belgaum  District 
Uy  H.  J.  Stokes,  M,  S.  C. 


And  thus  he  gave  commandment,  '  He 
Shall  all  his  days  an  exile  be.' 
With  basket  and  with  plough  he  strayed 
O'er  mountain  heights,  through  pathless 

shade, 

Roaming  all  lands  a  weary  time, 
An  outcast  wretch  defiled  with  crime. 
Sagar,  the  righteous  path  who  held, 
His  wicked  offspring  thus  expelled. 
But  what  has  Rama  done  to  blame? 
Why  should  his  sentence  be  the  samef 
No  sin  his  stainless  name  can  dim  ; 
We  see  no  fault  at  all  in  him. 
Pure  as  the  moon,  no  darkening  blot 
On  his  sweet  life  has  left  a  spot. 
If  th"U  canst  see  one  fault,  e'en  one, 
To  dim  the  fame  of  Raghu's  son, 
That  fault  this  hour,  O  lady,  show, 
And  Rama  to  the  wood  shall  go. 
To  drive  the  guiltless  to  the  wild, 
Truth's  constant  lover,  undefined, 
Would,  by  defiance  of  the  right, 
The  glory  e'en  of  Itidra  blight. 
Then  cease,  O  lady,  and  dismiss 
Thy  hope  to  ruin  "Rama's  bliss, 
Or  all  thy  gain,  O  fair  of  face, 
Will  be  men's  hatred,  and  disgrace.' 

CANTO  XXXVII. 


THE  COATS  OF  BARK. 

Thus  spake  the  virtuous  sage  ;  and  then 
Rama  addressed  the  king  of  men. 
In  laws  of  meek  behaviour  bred, 
Thus  to  his  sire  he  meekly  said  : 

4  King,  I  renounce  all  earthly  care, 
And  live  in  woods  on  woodland  fare. 
What,  dead  to  joys,  have  I  to  do 
With  lordly  train  and  retinue  ? 
Who  gives  his  elephant  and  yet 
Upon  the  girths  his  heart  will  set? 
How  can  a  cord  attract  his  eyes 
Who  gives  away  the  nobler  prize  ? 
Best  of  the  good,  with  me  be  led 
No  host,  my  King,  with  banners  spread. 
All  wealth,  all  lordship  I  resign : 
The  hermit's  dress  alone  be  mine. 
Before  I  go,  have  here  conveyed 
A  little  basket  and  a  spade. 
With  these  alone  I  go,  content, 
For  fourteen  years  of  banishment/ 

With  her  own  hands  Kaikeyi  took 
The  hermit  coats  of  bark,  and,  '  Look,' 
She  cried  with  bold  unblushing  brow 
Before  the  concourse,  '  Dress  thee  now.' 
That  lion  leader  of  the  brave 
Took  from  her  hand  the  dress  she  gave, 
Cast  his  fine  raiment  on  the  ground, 


Canto  XXX VIII. 


THE  RAMA? AN. 


139 


And  roun<l  his  waist  the  vesture  bound. 
Then  quick  the  hero  Lakshmaii  too 
His  garment  from  his  shoulders  threw, 
And,  in  the  presence  of  his  sire, 
Indued  the  ascetic's  rough  attire. 
But  Sita,  in  her  silks  arrayed, 
Threw  glances,  trembling  and  afraid, 
On  the  bark  coat  she  had  to  wear, 
Like  a  shy  doe  that  eyes  the  snare. 
Ashamed  and  weeping  for  distress 
From  the  queen's  hand  she  took  the  dress 
The  fair  one,  by  her  husband's  side 
Who  matched  heaven's  minstrel  monarch,1 

cried : 

'  How  bind  they  on  their  woodland  dress, 
Those  hermits  of  the  wilderness  ? ' 

Therefstood  the  pride  of  Janak's  race 
Perplexed,  with  sad  appealing  face. 
One  coat  the  lady's  fingers  grasped, 
One  round  her  neck  she;sfeebly  clasped, 
But  failed  again,  again,  confused 
By  the  wild  garb  she  ne'er  had  used. 
Then  quickly  hastening  Rama,  pride 
Of  all  who  cherish  virtue,  tied 
The  rough  bark  mantle  on  her,  o'er 
The  silken  raiment  that  she  wore. 

Then  the  sad  women  when  they  saw 
Kama  the  choice  bark  round  her  draw, 
Rained  water  from  each  tender  eye, 
And  cried  aloud  with  bitter  cry : 
'  O,  not  on  her,  beloved,  not 
On  Sita  falls  thy  mournful  lot. 
If,  faithful  to  thy  father's  will, 
Thou  must  go  forth,  leave  Sita  still. 
Let  Sita  still  remaining  here 
Our  hearts  with  her  loved  presence  cheer. 
With  Lakshman  by  thy  side  to  aid 
Seek  thou,  dear  son,  the  lonely  shade. 
Unmeet,  one  good  and  fair  as  she 
Should  dwell  in  woods  a  devotee. 
Let  not  our  prayers  be  prayed  in  vain  : 
Let  beauteous  Sita  yet  remain  ; 
For  by  thy  love  of  duty  tied 
Thou  wilt  not  here  thyself  abide.' 
Then  the  king's  venerable  guide 
Vasishtha,  when  he  saw  each  coat 
Enclose  the  lady's  waist  and  throat, 
Her  zeal  with  gentle  words  repressed, 
And  Queen  Kaikeyi  thus  addressed  : 
*  O  evil-hearted  sinner,  shame 
Of  royal  Kekaya's  race  and  name  ; 
Who  matchless  in  thy  sin  couldst  cheat 
Thy  lord  the  king  with  vile  deceit ; 
Lost  to  ail  sense  of  duty,  know 
Sita  to  exile  shall  not  go. 
Sita  shall  guard,  as  'twere  her  own, 
The  precious  trust  of  Llama's  throne. 


1  Chitraratha,    King   of    the   celestial 
choristers. 


Those  joined  by  wedlock's  sweet  control 
Have  but  one  self  and  common  soul. 
Thus  Sita  shall  our  empress  be, 
For  Rama's  self  and  soul  is  she. 
Or  if  she  still  to  Rama  cleave 
And  for  the  woods  the  kingdom  leave  : 
If  naught  her  loving  heart  deter, 
We  and  this  town  will  follow  her. 
The  warders  of  the  queen  shall  take 
Their  wives  and  go  for  Rama  s  sake. 
The  nation  with  its  stores  of  grain, 
The  city's  wealth  shall  swell  his  train. 
Bharat,  &atrughna  both  will  wear 
Bark  mantles,  and  his  lodging  share, 
Still  with  their  elder  brother  dwell 
In  the  wild  wood,  and  serve  him  well. 
Rest  here  alone,  and  rule  thy  state 
Unpeopled,  barren,  desolate ; 
Be  empress  of  the  land  and  trees, 
Thou  sinner  whom  our  sorrows  please, 
The  land  which  Rama  reigns  not  o'er 
Shall  bear  the  kingdom's  name  no  more  :. 
The  woods  which  Rama  wanders  through 
Shall  be  our  home  and  kingdom  too. 
Bharat,  be  sure,  will  never  deign 
O'er  realms  his  father  yields,  to  reign. 
Nay,  if  the  king's  true  son  he  be, 
He  will  net,  sonlike,  dwell  with  thee. 
Nay,  shouldst  thou  from  the  earth  arise, 
And  send  thy  message  from  the  skies, 
To  his  forefathers'  custom  true 
No  erring  course  would  he  pursue. 
So  hast  thou,  by  thy  grievous  fault, 
Offended  him  thou  wouldst  exalt. 
In  all  the  world  none  draws  his  breath 
Who  loves  not  Rama,  true  to  death. 
This  day,  O  Queen,  shalt  thou  behold 
Birds,  deer,  and  beasts  from  lea  and  fold 
Turn  to  the  woods  in  Rama's  train, 
And  naught  save  longing  trees  remain.' 


CANTO  XXXVIII. 


CARE  FOR 

Then  when  the  people  wroth  and  sad 

•Jaw  Sita  in  bark  vesture  clad, 

Dhough  wedded,  like  some  widowed  thing, 

They  cried  out,  'Shame  upon  thee,  King  T 
Grieved  by  their  cry  and  angry  look 

The  lord  of  earth  at  once  forsook 
All  hope  in  life  that  still  remained, 

n  duty,  self,  and  fame  unstained. 

!kshvaku's  son  with  burning  sighs 
On  Queen  Kaikeyi  bent  his  eyes, 
And  said  :  '  But  Sita  must  not  flee 

n  garments  of  a  devotee. 

&y  holy  guide  has  spoken  truth/ 
Unfit  is  she  in  tender  youth, 


140 


THE  RAM  AT  AN. 


Boole  II. 


So  gently  nurtured,  soft  and  fair, 
The  hardships  of  the  wood  to  share. 
How  has  she  sinned,  devout  and  true, 
The  noblest  monarch's  child, 

That  she  should  garb  of  bark  indue 
Arid  journey  to  the  wild  ? 

That  she  should  spend  her  youthful  days 
Amid  a  hermit  band, 

Like  some  poor  mendicant  who  strays 
Sore  troubled,  through  the  land? 

Ah,  let  the  child  of  Janak  throw 
Her  dress  of  bark  aside, 

And  let  the  royal  lady  go 
With  royal  wealth  supplied. 

Not  such  the  pledge  I  gave  before, 
Unlit  to  linger  here : 

The  oath,  which  I  the  sinner  swore 
Is  kept,  and  leaves  her  clear. 

Won  from  her  childlike  love  this  too 
My  instant  death  would  be, 

As  blossoms  on  the  old  bamboo 

Destroy  the  parent  tree.1 
If  aught  amiss  by  Rama  done 
Offend  thee,  O  thou  wicked  one, 
What  least  transgression  canst  thou  find 
In  her,  thou  worst  of  womankind? 
What  shade  of  fault  in  her  appeal's, 
Whose  full  soft  eye  is  like  the  deer's  ? 
What  canst  thou  blame  in  Janak's  child, 
So  gentle,  modest,  true,  and  mild  ? 
Is  not  one  crime  complete,  that  sent 
My  Rama  forth  to  banishment  ? 
And  wilt  thou  other  sins  commit, 
Thou  wicked  one,  to  double  it  ? 
This  is  the  pledge  and  oath  I  swore, 
What  thou  besoughtest,  and  no  more, 
Of  Rama— for  I  heard  thee,  dame— 
When  he  for  consecration  came. 
Now  with  this  limit  not  content, 
In  hell  should  be  thy  punishment, 
Who  fain  the  Maithil  bride  wouldst  press 
To  clothe  her  limbs  with  hermit  dress.' 

Thus  spake  the  father  in  his  woe  ; 
And  Rama,  still  prepared  to  go, 
To  him  who  sat  with  drooping  head 
Spake  in  return  these  words  and  said  : 

*  Just  King,  here  stands  my  mother  dear, 
Kausalyd,  one  whom  all  revere. 
Submissive,  gentle,  old  is  she, 
And  keeps  her  lips  from  blame  of  thee. 
For  her,  kind  lord,  of  me  bereft 
A  sea  of  whelming  woe  is  left. 
O,  show  her  in  her  new  distress 
Still  fonder  love  and  tenderness. 
Well  honoured  by  thine  honoured  hand 
Her  grief  for  me  let  her  withstand, 
Who  wrapt  in  constant  thought  of  me 
In  me  would  live  a  devotee. 

1  It  is  said  that  the  bamboo  dies  after 
flowering. 


Peer  of  Mahendra,  O,  to  her  be  kind, 
And  treat  I  pray,  my  gentle  mother  so, 

That,  when  I  dwell  afar,  her  life  resigned, 
She   may  not  pass  to  Yarna's  ,  realm 
for  woe.' 

CANTO  XXXIX. 


COUNSEL  TO  SITA'. 

Scarce  had  the  sire,  with  each  dear  queen, 
Heard  Rama's  pleading  voice,  and  seen 
His  darling  in  his  hermit  dress 
Ere  failed  his  senses  for  distress. 
Convulsed  with  woe,  his  soul  that  shook, 
On  Raghu's  son  he  could  not  look  ; 
Or  if  he  looked  with  failing  eye 
He  could  not  to  the  chief  reply. 
By  pangs  of  bitter  grief  assailed, 
The  long- armed  monarch  wept  and  wailed, 
Half  dead  a  while  and  sore  distraught, 
While  R&ma  filled  his  every  thought. 
*  This  hand  of  mine  in  days  ere  now 
Has  reft  her  young  from  many  a  cow, 
Or  living  things  has  idly  slain  : 
Hence  comes,  I  ween,  this  hour  of  pain. 
Not  till  the  hour  is  come  to  die 
Can  from  its  shell  the  spirit  fly. 
Death  comes  not,  and  Kaikeyi  still 
Torments  the  wretch  she  cannot  kill, 
Who  sees  his  son  before  him  quit 
The  fine  soft  robes  his  rank  that  fit, 
And,  glorious  as  the  burning  fire, 
In  hermit  garb  his  limbs  attire. 
Now  all  the  people  grieve  and  groan 
Through  Queen  Kaikeyi's  deed  alone, 
Who,  having  dared  this  deed  of  sin, 
Strives  for  herself  the  gain  to  win.' 

He  spoke.  With  tears  his  eyes  grew  dim, 
His  senses  all  deserted  him. 
He  cried,  O  Rama,  once,  then  weak 
And  fainting  could  no  further  speak. 
Unconscious  there  he  lay  :  at  length 
Regathering  his  sense  and  strength, 
While  his  full  eyes  their  torrents  shed, 
To  wise  Sumantra  thus  he  said  : 
'  Yoke  the  light  car,  and  hither  lead 
Fleet  coursers  of  the  noblest  breed, 
And  drive  this  heir  of  lofty  fate 
Beyond  the  limit  of  the  state. 
This  seems  the  fruit  that  virtues  bear, 
The  meed  of  worth  which  texts  declare — 
The  sending  of  the  brave  and  good 
By  sire  and  mother  to  the  wood.' 

He  heard  the  monarch,  and  obeyed, 
With  ready  feet  that  ne'er  delayed, 
And  brought  before  the  palace  gate 
The  horses  and  the  car  of  state. 
Then  to  the  monarch's  son  he  sped, 
And  raising  hands  of  reverence  said 


Canto 


XL. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


141 


That  the  light  car  which  gold  made  fair, 
With  best  of  steeds,  was  standing  there. 
King  Dasaratha  called  in  haste 
The  lord  o'er  all  his  treasures  placed. 
And  spoke,  well  skilled  in  place  and  time, 
His  will  to  him  devoid  of  crime  : 
'  Count  all  the  years  she  has  to  live 
Afar  in  forest  wilds,  and  give 
To  Sita  robes  and  gems  of  price 
As  for  the  time  may  well  suffice.' 
Quick  to  the  treasure-room  he  went, 
Charged  by  that  king  most  excellent, 
Brought  the  rich  stores,  and  gave  them  all 
To  Sita  in  the  monarch's  hall. 
The  Maithil  dame  of  high  descent 
Keceived  each  robe  and  ornament, 
And  tricked  those  limbs,  whose  lines  fore- 
told 

High  destiny,  with  gems  and  gold. 
So  well  adorned,  so  fair  to  view, 
A  glory  through  the  hall  she  threw  : 
So,  when  the  Lord  of  Light  upsprings, 
His  radiance  o'er  the  sky  he  flings. 
Then  Queen  Kausalya  spake  at  last, 
With  loving  arms  about  her  cast, 
Pressed  lingering  kisses  on  her  head, 
And  to  the  high-souled  lady  said  : 
'Ah,  iii  this  faithless  world  below 
Wnen  dark  misfortune  comes  and  woe, 
Wives,  loved  and  cherished  every  day, 
Neglect  their  lords  and  disobey. 
Yes,  woman's  nature  still  is  this  : — 
After  long  days  of  calm  and  bliss 
When  some  light  grief  her  spirit  tries, 
She  changes  all  her  love,  or  flies. 
Young  wives  are  thankless,  false  in  soul, 
With  roving  hearts  that  spurn  control. 
Brooding  on  sin  and  quickly  changed, 
In  one  short  hour  their  love  estranged. 
Not  glorious  deed  or  lineage  fair, 
Not  knowledge,  gift,  or  tender  care 
In  chains  of  lasting  love  can  bind 
A  woman's  light  inconstant  mind. 
But  those  good  dames  who  still  maintain 
What  right,  truth,  Scripture,  rule  ordain- 
No  holy  thing  in  their  pure  eyes 
With  one  beloved  husband  vies. 
Nor  let  thy  lord  my  sou,  condemned 
To  exile,  be  by  thee  contemned, 
For  be  he  poor  or  wealthy,  he 
Is  as  a  God,  dear  child,  to  thee.' 

When  Sita  heard  Kausalya's  speech 
Her  duty  and  her  gain  to  teach, 
She  joined  her  palms  with  reverent  grace 
And  gave  her  answer  face  to  face : 
'  All  will  I  do,  forgetting  naught, 
Which  thou,O  honoured  Queen, hast  taught, 
I  know,  have  heard,  and  deep  have  stored 
The  rules  of  duty  to  my  lord. 
Not  me,  good  Queen,  shouldst  thou  include 
Among  the  faithless  multitude. 


Its  own  sweet  light  the  moon  shall  leave 

Ere  I  to  duty  cease  to  cleave. 

The  stringless  lute  gives  forth  no  strain, 

The  wheelless  car  is  urged  in  vain  ; 

No  joy  a  lordless  dame,  although 

Blest  with  a  hundred  sons,  can  know. 

From  father,  brother,  and  from  son 

A  measured  share  of  joy  is  won  : 

Who  wouid  not  honour,  love,  and  bless 

Her  lord,  whose  gifts  are  measureless? 

Thus  trained  to  think,  I  hold  in  awe 

Scripture's  command  and  duty's  law. 

Him  can  I  hold  in  slight  esteem  ? 

Her  lord  is  woman's  God,  I  deem.' 

Kausalya  heard  the  lady's  speech, 

Nor  failed  those  words  her  heart  to  reach, 

Then,  pure  in  mind,  she  gave  to  flow 

The  tear  that  sprang  of  joy  and  woe. 

Then  duteous  Rama  forward  came 

And  stood  before  the  honoured  dame, 

And  joining  reverent  hands  addressed 

The  queen  in  rank  above  the  rest : 

1  O  mother,  from  these  tears  refrain  ; 

Look  on  my  sire  and  still  thy  pain. 

To  thee  my  days  afar  shall  fly 

As  if  sweet  slumber  closed  thine  eye, 

And  fourteen  years  of  exile  seem 

To  thee,  dear  mother,  like  a  dream. 

On  me  returning  safe  and  well, 

Girt  by  my  friends,  thine  eyes  shall  dwell/ 

Thus  for  their  deep  affection's  sake 
The  hero  to  his  mother  spake, 
Then  to  the  half  seven  hundred  too, 
Wives  of  his  sire,  paid  reverence  due. 
Thus  Dasaratha's  son  addressed 
That  crowd  of  matrons  sore  distressed  : 
*  If  from  these  lips,  while  here  1  dwelt, 
One  heedless  taunt  you  e'er  have  felt, 
Forgive  me,  pray.     And  now  adieu, 
I  bid  good-bye  to  all  of  you.' 
Then  straight,  like  curlews'  cries,  upwent 
The  voices  of  their  wild  lament, 
While,  as  he  bade  farewell,  the  crowd 
Of  royal  women  wept  aloud, 
And  through  the  ample  hall's  extent, 
Where  erst  the  sound  of  tabour,  blent 
With  drum  and  shrill-toned  instrument, 

In  joyous  concert  rose, 
Now  rang  the  sound  of  wailing  high, 
The  lamentation  and  the  cry, 
The  shriek,  the  choking  sob,  the  sigh 

That  told  the  ladies'  woes. 


CANTO  XL. 


RAMA'S  DEPARTURE, 

Then  Rama,  Sita,  Lakshman  bent 
At  the  king's  feet,  and  sadly' went 


142 


THE  MAM  AY  AN. 


Hook  II. 


Bound  him  with  slow  steps  reverent. 
When  Rama  of  the  duteous  heart 
Had  gained  his  sire's  consent  to  part, 
With  Sita  by  his  sido  he  paid 
Due  reverence  to  the  queen  dismayed. 
And  Lakshman,  with  affection  meet, 
Bowed  down  and  clasped  his  mother's  feet. 
Sumitra  viewed  him  as  he  pressed 
Her  feet,  and  thus  her  son  addressed  : 

•  Neglect  not  Rama  wandering  there, 
But  tend  him  with  thy  faithful  care. 
Jn  hours  of  wealth,  in  time  of  woe, 
Him,  sinless  son,  thy  refuge  know. 
From  this  good  law  the  just  ne'er  swerve, 
That  younger  sons  the  eldest  serve, 
And  to  this  righteous  rule  incline 

All  children  of  thine  ancient  line — 
Freely  to  give,  reward  each  rite, 
Nor  spare  their  bodies  in  the  fight. 
Let  Ra:na  Dasaratha  be, 
Look  upon  Sita  as  on  me, 
And  let  the  cot  wherein  }7ou  dwell 
Be  thine  Ayodhya.     Fare  thee  well,' 
Her  blessing  thus  Sumitra  gave 
To  him  whose  soul  to  Rama  clave, 
Exclaiming,  when  her  speech  was  done, 

*  Go  forth,  O  Lakshman,  go,  my  son. 
Go  forth,  my  son.  to  win  success, 
High  victory  and  happiness. 

Go  forth  thy  foemen  to  destroy, 
And  turn  again  at  last  with  joy.' 

As  Matali  his  charioteer 
Speaks  for  the  Lord  of  Gods  to  hear, 
Sumantra,  palm  to  palm  applied, 
In  reverence  trained,  to  Kama  cried  : 
'  O  famous  Prince,  my  car  ascend, — 
May  blessings  on  thy  course  attend, — 
And  swiftly  shall  my  horses  flee 
And  place  thee  where  thou  biddest  me. 
The  fourteen  years  thou  hast  to  stay 
Far  in  the  wilds,  begin  to-day  ; 
For  Queen  Kaikeyi  cries,  Away,' 

Then  Sita,  best  of  womankind, 
Ascended,  with  a  tranquil  mind, 
£>oon  as  her  toilet  task  was  done, 
That  chariot  brilliant  as  the  sun, 
Rama  and  Lakshman  true  and  bold 
Sprang  on  the  car  adorned  with  gold. 
The  king  those  years  had  counted  o'er, 
And  given  Sita  robes  and  store 
Of  precious  ornaments  to  wear 
When  following  her  husband  there. 
The  brothers  in  the  car  found  place 
For  nets  and  weapons  of  the  chase, 
There  warlike  arms  and  mail  they  laid, 
A  leathern  basket  and  a  spade. 
Soon  as  Sumantra  saw  the  three 
Were  seated  in  the  chariot,  he 
Urged  on  each  horse  of  noble  breed, 
Who  matched  the  rushing  wind  in  speed. 
As  thus  the  son  of  Raghu  went 


Forth  for  his  dreary  banishment, 
Chill  numbing  grief  the  town  assailed, 
All  strength  grew  weak,  all  spirit  failed. 
Ayodhya  through  her  wide  extent 
Was  filled  witli  tumult  and  lament : 
Steeds  neighed  and  shook  the  bells  they 

bore, 

Each  elephant  returned  a  roar. 
Then  all  tbe  city,  young  and  old, 
Wild  with  their  sorrow  uncontrolled, 
Rushed  to  the  car,  as,  from  the  sun 
The  panting  herds  to  water  run. 
Before  the  car,  behind,  they  clung, 
And  there  as  eagerly  they  hung, 
With  torrents  streaming  from  their  eyes, 
Called  loudly  with  repeated  cries  : 

*  Listen,  Sumantra  :  draw  thy  rein  ; 
Drive  gently,  and  thy  steeds  restrain. 
Once  me  re  on  Rama  will  we  gaze, 
Now  to  be  lost  for  many  days. 

The  queen  his  mother  has,  be  sure, 

A  heart  of  iron,  to  endure 

To  see  her  godlike  Kama  go, 

Nor  feel  it  shattered  by  the  blow. 

Sita,  well  done  !  Videha's  pride, 

Still  like  his  shadow  by  his  side  ; 

Rejoicing  in  thy  duty  still 

As  sunlight  cleaves  to  Meru's  hill. 

Thou,  Lakshman,  too,  hast  well  deserved, 

Who  from  thy  duty  hast  not  swerved, 

Tending  the  peer  of  Gods  above, 

Whose  lips  speak  naught  but  words  of  love. 

Thy  firm  resolve  is  nobly  great, 

And  high  success  on  thee  shall  wait. 

Yea,  thou  shalt  win  a  priceless  meed — 

Thy  path  with  him  to  heaven  shall  lead.' 

As  thus  they  spake,  they  could  not  hold 

The  tears  that  down  their  faces  rolled, 

While  still  they  followed  for  a  space 

Their  darling  of  Ikshvaku's  race. 

There  stood  surrounded  by  a  ring 
Of  mournful  wives  the  mournful  king ; 
For,'  1  will  see  once  more,'  he  cried, 

*  Mine  own  dear  son,'  and  forth  he  hied. 
As  he  came  near,  there  rose  the  sound 
Of  weeping,  as  the  darnes  stood  round. 
So  the  she-elephants  complain 

When  their  great  lord  and  guide  is  slain, 
Kakutstha's  son,  the  king  of  men, 
The  glorious  sire,  looked  troubled  then, 
As  the  full  moon  is  when  dismayed 
By  dark  eclipse's  threatening  shade. 
Then  Dasaratha's  son,  designed 
For  highest  fate  of  lofty  mind, 
Urged  to  more  speed  the  chari  teer, 
'  Away,  away  !  why  linger  here  ? 
Urge  on  thy  horses,'  Kama  cried, 
And  '  Stay,  O  stay,'  the  people  sighed. 
Sumantra,  urged  to  speed  away, 
The  townsmen's  call  must  disobey, 
Forth  as  the  long- armed  hero  went, 


Canto  X.LI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


US 


The  dust-his  chariot  wheels  up  sent 
Was  laid  by  streams  that  ever  flowed 
From  their  sad  eyes  who  filled  the  road. 
Then,  sprung  of  woe,  from  eyes  of  all 
The  women  drops  began  to  fall, 
As  from  each  lotus  on  the  lake 
The  darting  fish  the  water  shake. 
When  he,  the  king  of  high  renown, 
Saw  that  one  thought  held  all  the  town, 
Like  some  tall  tree  he  fell  and  lay, 
Whose  root  the  axe  has  hewn  away. 
Then  straight  a  mighty  cry  from  those 
Who  followed  Rama's  car  arose, 
Who  saw  their  monarch  fainting  there 
Beneath  that  grief  too  great  to  bear. 
Then  «  Rama,  Rama !'  with  the  cry 
Of  *  Ah,  his  mother  !'  sounded  high, 
As  all  the  people  wept  aloud 
Around  the  ladies'  sorrowing  crowd. 
When  Rama  backward  turned  his  eye, 
And  saw  the  king  his  father  lie 
With  troubled  sense  and  failing  limb, 
And  the  sad  queen,  who  followed  him, 
Like  some  young  creature  in  the  net, 
That  will  not,  in  its  misery,  let 
Its  wild  eyes  on  its  mother  rest, 
So,  by  the  bonds  of  duty  pressed, 
His  mother's  look  he  could  not  meet. 
He  saw  them  with  their  weary  feet, 
Who,  used  to  bliss,  in  cars  should  ride, 
Who  ne'er  by  sorrow  should  be  tried, 
And,  as  one  mournful  look  he  cast, 
'  Drive  on,'  he  cried,  '  Sumantra,  fast.' 
As  when  the  driver's  torturing  hook 
Goads  on  an  elephant,  the  look 
Of  sire  and  mother  in  despair 
Was  more  than  Rama's  heart  could  bear. 
As  mother  kine  to  stalls  return 
Which  hold  the  calves  for  whom  they  yearn, 
So  to  the  car  she  tried  to  run 
As  a  cow  seeks  her  little  one. 
Once  and  again  the  hero's  eyes 
Looked  on  his  mother,  as  with  cries 
Of  woe  she  called  and  gestures  wild, 
'  O  Sita,  Lakshman,  O  my  child  !' 
'  Stay,'  cried  the  king,  'thy  chariot  stay:' 
1  On  on.'  cried  Rama,  '  speed  away.1 
As  one  between  two  hosts,  inclined 
To  neither  was  Sumantra's  mind. 
But  Rama  spake  these  words  again  : 
1  A  lengthened  woe  is  bitterest  pain. 
On,  on  ;  and  if  his  wrath  grow  hot, 
Thine  answer  be,  '  I  heard  thee  not.' 
Sumantra,  at  the  chief's  behest, 
Dismissed  the   crowd  that   toward  him 

pressed, 

And,  as  he  bade,  to  swiftest  speed 
Urged  on  his  way  each  willing  steed. 
The  king's  attendants  parted  thence, 
And  paid  him  heart-felt  reverence  : 
In  mind,  and  with  the  tears  he  wept, 


Each  still  his  place  near  Rama  kept. 
As  swift  away  the  horses  sped, 
II is  lords  to  Dasaratha  said  : 
*  To  follow  him  whom  thou  again 
Wouldst  see  returning  home  is  vain/ 

With  failing  limb  and  drooping  mien 

He  heard  their  counsel  wise : 
Srill  on  their  son  the  king  and  queen 
Kept  fast  their  lingering  eyes.1 

CANTO  XLI. 
THE  CITIZENS'  LAMENT, 

The  lion  chief  with  hands  upraised 
Was  born  from  eyes  that  fondly  gazed. 
But  then  the  ladies'  bower  was  rent 
With  cries  of  weeping  and  lament: 
1  Where  goes  he  now,  our  lord,  the  sure 
Protector  of  the  friendless  poor, 
In  whom  the  wretched  and  the  weak 
Defence  and  aid  were  wont  to  seek  ? 
All  words  of  wrath  he  turned  aside, 
And  ne'er,  when  cursed,  in  ire  replied. 
He  shared  his  people's  woe,  and  stilled 
The  troubled  breast  which  rage  had  filled. 
Our  chief,  on  lofty  thoughts  intent, 
In  glorious  fame  preeminent: 
As  on  his  ow*n  dear  mother,  thus 
He  ever  looked  on  each  of  us. 
Where  goos  he  now  ;  His  sire's  behest, 
By  Queen  Kaikeyi's  guile  distressed, 
Has  banished  to  the  forest  hence 
Him  who  was  all  the  world's  defence. 
Ah,  senseless  King,  to  drive  away 
The  hope  of  men,  their  guard  and  stay, 
To  banish  to  the  distant  wood 
Kama  the  duteous,  true,  and  good  !' 
The  royal  dames,  like  cows  bereaved 
Of  their  young  calves,  thus  sadly  grieved. 
The  monarch  heard  them  as  they  wailed, 
And  by  the  fire  of  grief  assailed 
For  his  dear  son,  he  bowed  his  head, 
And  all  his  sense  and  memory  fled. 

Then  were  no  fires  of  worship  fed, 
Thick  darkness  o'er  the  sun  was  spread. 
The  cows  their  thirsty  calves  denied, 
And  elephants  flung  their  food  aside. 


1  '  Thirty  centuries  have  passed  since  he 
began  this  memorable  journey.  Every  step 
of  it  is  known  and  is  annually  traversed 
by  thousands  :  hero  worship  is  not  extinct. 
What  can  Faith  do  !  How  strong  are  the 
ties  of  religion  when  entwined  with  the 
legends  of  a  country  !  How  many  a  cart 
creeps  creaking  and  weary  along  the  road 
from  Ayodhya  to  Chitrakut.  It  is  this 
that  gives  the'Ramayan  a  strange  interest, 
the  storv  still  lives.'  Calcutta  Review: 
Vol.  XXII2. 


144 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


Trisanku,1  Jupiter  looked  dread, 

And  Mercury  and  Mars  the  red, 

In  direful  opposition  met, 

The  glory  of  the  moon  beset. 

The  lunar  stars  withheld  their  light, 

The  planets  were  no  longer  bright, 

But  meteors  with  their  horrid  glare, 

And  dire  Visakhas*  lit  the  air. 

As  troubled  Ocean  heaves  and  raves 

When   Doom's  wild   tempest  sweeps  the 

waves, 

Thus  all  Ayodhya  reeled  and  bent 
Wneri  Rama  to  the  forest  went. 
And  chilling  grief  and  dark  despair 
Fell  suddenly  on  all  men  there. 
Their  wonted  pastime  all  forgot, 
Nor  thought  of  food,  or  touched  it  not. 
Crowds  in  the  royal  street  were  seen 
With  weeping  eye  and  troubled  mien  : 
No  more  a  pe  pie  gay  and  glad, 
Each  head  and  heart  was  sick  and  sad. 
No  more  the  cool  wind  softly  blew, 
The  moon  no  more  was  fair  to  view, 
No  more  the  sun  witii  genial  glow 
Cherished  the  world  now  plunged  in  woe, 
Sons,  brothers,  husbands,  wedded  wives 
Forgot  the  tie.s  that  joined  their  lives  ; 
No  thought  for  kith  and  kin  was  spared, 
But  all  for  only  Rama  cared. 
And  Rama's  friends  who  loved  him  best, 
Their  minds  disordered  and  distressed. 
By  the  great  burthen  of  their  woes 
Turned  not  to  slumber  or  repose. 
Like  Earth  with  all  her  hills  bereft 

Of  Indra's  guiding  care. 
Ayodhya  in  her  sorrow  left 

By  him,  the  high  souled  heir, 
Was  bowed  by  fear  and  sorrow's  force, 

And  shook  with  many  a  throe, 
While  warrior,  elephant,  and  horse 

Sent  up  the  cry  of  woe. 


CANTO  XLII. 


DAgARATHA'S  LAMENT. 

While  yet  the  dust  was  seen  afar 
That  marked  the  course  of  Rama's  car, 
The  glory  of  Ikshvaku's  race 
Turned  not  away  his  eager  face. 
While  yet  his  duteous  son  he  saw 
He  could  not  once  his  gaze  withdraw, 
But  rooted  to  the  spot  remained 
With  eyes  that  after  Rama  strained. 
But  when  that  dust  no  more  he  viewed, 
Fainting  he  fell  by  grief  subdued. 

i  Seep.  72. 

8  Four    stars  of    the  sixteenth  lunar 
aster  ism. 


To  his  right  hand  Kausalya  went, 
And  ready  aid  the  lady  lent, 
While  Bharat's  loving  mother  tried 
To  raise  him  on  the  other  side. 
The  king,  within  whose  ordered  soul 
Justice  and  virtue  held  control, 
To  Queen  Kaikeyi  turned  and  said, 
With  every  sense  disquieted  : 
*  Touch  me  not,  thou  whose  soul  can  plot 
All  sin.  Kaikeyi,  touch  me  not. 
No  loving  wife,  no  friend  to  me, 
I  ne'er  again  would  look  on  thee  ; 
Ne'er  from  this  day  have  aught  to  do 
With  thee  and  all  thy  retinue  ; 
Thee  whom  no  virtuous  thoughts  restrain, 
Whose  selfish  heart  seeks  only  g  dn. 
The  hand  I  laid  in  mine,  O  dame, 
The  steps  we  took  around  the  flame,1 
And  all  that  links  thy  life  to  mine 
Here  and  hereafter  I  resign. 
If  Bharat  too.  thy  darling  son, 
Joy  in  the  rule  thy  art  has  won, 
Ke'er  may  the  funeral  offerings  paid 
By  his  false  hand  approach  my  shade.' 
Then  while  the  dust  upon  him  hung, 
The  monarch  to  Kausalya  clung, 
And  she  with  mournful  steps  and  slo\r 
Turned  t  j  the  palace,  worn  with  woe. 
As  one  whose  hand  has  touched  the  fire, 
Or  slain  a  Brahman  in  his  ire, 
He  felt  his  heart  with  sorrow  torn 
Still  thinking  of  his  son  forlorn. 
Each  step  was  torture,  as  the  road 
The  traces  >  f  the  chariot  showed, 
And  as  the  shadowed  sun  grows  dim 
So  cure  and  anguish  darkened  him. 
He  raised  a  cry,  by  woe  distraught, 
As  of  his  son  again  he  thought, 
And  judging  that  the  car  had  sped 
Beyond  the  city,  thus  he  said  : 
'  I  still  behold  the  foot-prints  made 
By  the  good  horses  that  conveyed 
My  son  afar  :  these  marks  I  see, 
But  high-soiiledRama,  where  is  he? 
Ah  me,  my  son !  my  rirst  and  best, 
On  pleasant  couches  wont  to  rest, 
With  limbs  perfumed  with  sandal,  fanned 
By  many  a  beauty's  tender  hand  : 
Where  will  he  lie  with  log  or  stone 
Beneath  him  for  a  pillow  thrown, 
To  leave  at  morn  his  earthy  bed, 
Neglected,  and  with  dust  o'erspread, 
As  from  the  flood  with  sigh  and  pant 
Comes  forth  the  husband  elephant? 
The  men  who  make  the  woods  their  home 
Shall  see  the  long- armed  hero  roam 
Roused  from  his  bed,  though  lord  of  all, 
In  semblance  of  a  friendless  thrall. 
Janak's  dear  child  who  ne'er  has  met 

1  In  the  marriage  service. 


Canto  XLIIL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


With  aught  save  joy  and  comfort  yet, 
Will  reach  to-day  the  forest,  worn 
And  wearied  with  the  brakes  of  thorn. 
Ah,  gentle  girl,  of  woods  unskilled, 
How  will  her  heart  with  dread  be  rilled 
At  the  wild  beasts'  deep  roaring  there, 
Whose  voices  lift  the  shuddering  hair  ! 
Kaikevi,  glory  in  thy  gain, 
And,  widow  queen,  begin  to  reign  : 
No  will,  no  power  to  live  have  I 
When  my  brave  son  no  more  is  nigh.' 

Thus  pouring  forth  laments,  the  king 
Girt  by  the  people's  crowded  ring, 
Entered  the  noble  bower  like  one 
New-bathed  when  funeral  rites  are  done. 
Where'er  he  looked  naught  met  his  gaze 
But  empty  houses,  courts,  and  ways. 
Closed  were  the  temples  :  countless  feet 
No  longer  trod  the  royal  street, 
And  thinking  of  his  son  he  viewed 
Men  weak  and  worn  and  woe-subdued. 
As  sinks  the  sun  into  a  cloud, 
So  passed  he  on,  and  wept  aloud, 
Within  that  house  no  more  to  be 
The  dwelling  of  the  banished  three, 
Brave  Rama,  his  Vedehan  bride, 
And  Lakshman  by  his  brother's  side : 
Like  broad  still  waters,  when  the  king 
Of  all  the  birds  that  ply  the  wing 
Has  swooped  from  heaven  and  bnrne  away 
The  glittering  snakes  that  made  them  gay. 
With  choking  sobs  and  voice  half  spent 
The  king  renewed  his  sad  lament : 
With  broken  utterance  faint  and  low 
Scarce  could  he  speak  these  words  of  woe : 
'  My  steps  to  Rama's  mother  guide, 
And  place  me  by  Kausalya's  side : 
There,  only  there  my  heart  may  know 
Some  little  respite  from  my  woe.' 

The  warders  of  the  palace  led 
The  monarch,  when  his  words  were  said, 
To  Queen  Kausalya's  bower,  and  there 
Laid  him  with  reverential  care. 
But  while  he  rested  on  the  bed 
Still  was  his  soul  disquieted. 
In  grief  he  tossed  his  arms  on  high 
Lamenting  with  a  piteous  cry  : 
'  O  Kama,  Rama,'  thus  said  he, 
'  My  son,  thou  hast  forsaken  me. 
High  bliss  awaits  those  favoured  men 
Left  living  in  Ayodhya  then, 
Whose  eyes  shall  see  my  son  once  more 
Returning  when  the  time  is  o'er.' 
Then  came  the  night,  whose  hated  gloom 
Fell  on  him  like  the  night  of  doom. 
At  midnight  Dasaratha  cried 
To  Queen  Kausalya  by  his  side : 
'  I  see  thee  not,  Kausalya  ;  lay 
Thy  gentle  hand  in  mine,  I  pray. 
When  Rama  left  his  home  my  sight 
Went  with  him,  nor  returns  to-night.' 


CANTO  XLIII. 

KAU& AL  YfA'S  LAMENT. 

Kausalya  saw  the  monarch  lie 
Witii  drooping  frame  and  failing  eye, 
And  for  her  banished  son  distressed 
With  these  sad  words  her  lord  addressed  : 
*  Kaikevi,  cruel,  false,  arid  vile 
Has  cast  the  venom -of  her  guile 
( )n  Rama  lord  of  men,  and  she 
Will  ravage  like  a  snake  set  free  ; 
And  more  and  more  my  soul  alarm, 
Like  a  dire  serpent  bent  on  harm. 
For  triumph  crowns  each  dark  intent, 
And  Rama  to  the  wild  is  sent. 
Ah,  were  he  doomed  but  here  to  stray 
Begging  his  food  from  day  to  day, 
Or  do,  enslaved,  Kaikeyi's  will, 
This  were  a  boon,  a  comfort  still. 
But  she,  as  chose  her  cruel  hate, 
Has  hurled  him  from  his  high  estate. 
As  Brahmans  when  the  moon  is  new 
Cast  to  the  ground  the  demons'  due.1 
Tne  long-armed  hero,  like  the  lord 
Of  Nagas,  with  his  bow  and  sword 
Begins,  I  ween,  his  forest  life 
With  Lakshman  and  his  faithful  wife. 
Ah,  how  will  fare  the  exiles  now, 
Whom,  moved  by  Queen  Kaikeyi,  thou 
Hast  sent  in  forests  to  abide, 
Bred  in  delights,  by  woe  untried  ? 
Far  banished  when  their  lives  are  young, 
With  the  fair  fruit  before  them  hung, 
Deprived  of  all  their  rank  that  suits, 
How  will  they  live  on  grain  and  roots? 
O,  that  my  years  of  woe  were  passed, 
And  the  glad  hour  were  conie  at  last 
When  1  shall  see  my  children  dear, 
Rama,  his  wife,  arid  Lakshman  here  ! 
When  shall  Ayodhya,  wild  witn  glee, 
Again  those  mighty  heroes  see, 
And  decked  with  wreaths  her  banners  wave 
To  welcome  home  the  true  and  brave  ? 
When  will  the  beautiful  city  view 
With  happy  eyes  the  lordly  two 
Returning,  joyful  as  the  main 
When  the  dear  moon  is  full  again? 
When,  like  some  mighty  bull  who  leads 
The  cow  exulting  through  the  meads, 
Will  Rama  through  the  city  ride, 
Strong-armed,  with  Sita  at  his  side  ? 
When  will  ten  thousand  thousand  meet 
And  crowd  Ayodhya's  royal  street, 
And  grain  in  joyous  welcome  throw 
Upon  my  sons  who  tame  the  foe  ? 
When  with  delight  shall  youthful  bands 
Of  Brahman  maidens  in  their  hands 


1  The  husks  and  ehaif  of  the  rice  offered 
to  the  Gods, 


146 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


Bear  fruit  and  flowers  in  goodly  show, 
And  circling  round  Ayodhya  go  ? 
With  ripened  judgment  of  a  sage, 
And  godlike  in  his  blooming  age, 
When  shall  my  virtuous  son  appear, 
Like  kindly  rain,  our  hearts  to  cheer  T 
Ah,  in  a  former  life,  I  ween, 
This  hand  of  mine,  most  base  and  mean, 
Has  dried  the  udders  of  the  kine 
And  left  the  thirsty  calves  to  pine, 
Hence,  as  the  lion  robs  the  cow, 
Kaikeyi  makes  me  childless  now, 
Exulting  from  her  feebler  foe 
To  rend  the  son  she  cherished  so. 
I  had  but  him,  in  Scripture  skilled, 
With  every  grace  his  soul  was  tilled. 
Now  not  a  joy  has  life  to  give, 
And  robbed  of  him  I  would  not  live: 
Yea,  all  my  days  are  dark  and  drear 
If  he,  my  darling,  be  not  near, 
And  Lakshman  brave,  my  heart  to  cheer. 
As  for  my  son  I  mourn  and  yearn, 
The  quenchless  flames  of  anguish  burn 

And  kill  me  with  the  pain, 
As  in  the  summer's  noontide  blaze 
The  glorious  Day-God  with  his  rays 

Consumes  the  parching  plain.'    • 

CANTO  XLIV. 


SDMITRA'S  SPEECH. 

Kausalya  ceased  her  sad  lament, 
Of  beauteous  dames  most  excellent. 
Sumitra  who  to  duty  clave, 
In  righteous  words  this  answer  gave  : 
'  Dear  Queen,  all  noble  virtues  grace 
Thy  son,  of  men  the  first  in  place. 
Why  dost  thou  shed  these  tears  of  woe 
With  bitter  grief  lamenting  so  1 
[f  Rama,  leaving  royal  sway 
Has  hastened  to  the  woods  away, 
'Tis  for  his  high-souled  father's  sake 
That  he  his  premise  may  not  break. 
He  to  the  path  of  duty  clings 
Which  lordly  fruit  hereafter  brings— 
The  path  to  which  the  righteous  cleave— 
For  him,  dear  Queen,  thou  shouldst  not 

grieve. 

And  Lakshman  too.  the  blameless-souled, 
The  same  high  course  with  him  will  hold, 
And  mighty  bliss  on  him  shall  wait, 
So  tenderly  compassionate. 
And  Sita,  bred  with  tender  care, 
Well  knows  what  toils  await  her  there, 
But  in  her  love  she  will  not  part 
From  Kama  of  the  virtuous  heart. 
Now  has  thy  son  through  all  the  world 
The  banner  of  his  fame  unfurled  : 
True,  modest,  careful  of  his  vow, 


What  has  he  left  to  aim  at  now  ? 
The  sun  will  mark  his  mighty  soul, 
His  wisdom,  sweetness,  self-control, 
Will  spare  from  pain  his  face  and  limb, 
And  with  soft  radiance  shine  for  him. 
For  him  through  forest  glades  shall  spring 
A  soft  auspicious  breeze,  and  bring 
Its  tempered  heat  and  cold  to  play 
Around  him  ever  night  and  day. 
The  pure  cold  moonbeams  shall  delight 
The  hero  as  he  sleeps  at  night, 
And  soothe  him  with  the  soft  caress 
Of  a  fond  parent's  tenderness. 
To  him,  the  bravest  of  the  brave, 
His  heavenly  arms  the  Brahman  gave, 
When  fierce  Suvahu  dyed  the  plain 
With  his  life-blood  by  Rama  slain. 
Still  trusting  to  his  own  right  arm 
Thy  hero  son  will  fear  no  harm  : 
As  in  his  father's  palace,  he 
In  the  wild  woods  will  dauntless  be. 
Whene'er  he  lets  his  arrows  fly 
His  stricken  f oemen  fall  and  die : 
And  is  that  prince  of  peerless  worth 
Too  weak  to  keep  and  sway  the  earth? 
His  sweet  pure  soul,  his  beauty's  charm, 
His  hero  heart,  his  warlike  arm, 
Will  soon  redeem  his  rightful  reign 
When  from  the  woods  he  comes  again, 
The  Brahmans  on  the  prince's  head 
King-making  drops  shall  quickly  shed, 
And  Sita,  Earth,  and  Fortune  share 
The  glories  which  await  the  heir. 
For  him,  when  forth  his  chariot  swept, 
The  crowd  that  thronged  Ayodhya  wept, 
With  agonizing  woe  distressed. 
With  him  in  hermit's  mantle  dressed 
In  guise  of  Sita  Lakshmi  went, 
And  none  his  glory  may  prevent. 
Yea,  naught  to  him  is  high  or  hard, 
Before  whose  steps,  to  be  his   guard, 
Lakshman,  the  best  who  draws  the  bow, 
With  spear,  shaft,  sword  rejoiced  to  go. 
His  wanderings  in  the  forest  o'er, 
Thine  eyes  shall  see  thy  sou  once  more, 
Quit  thy  faint  heart,  thy  grief  dispel, 
For  this,  O  Queen,  is  truth  I  tell. 
Thy  son  returning,  moonlike,  thence, 
Shall  at  thy  feet  do  reverence, 
And,  blest  and  blameless  lady,  thou 
Shalt  see  his  head  to  touch  them  bow, 
Yea,  thou  shalt  see  thy  son  made  king 
When  he  returns  with  triumphing, 
And  how  thy  happy  eyes  will  brim 
With  tears  of  joy  to  look  on  him  ! 
Thou,  blameless  lady,  shouldst  the  whole 
Of  the  sad  people  here  console  : 
Why  in  thy  tender  heart  allow 
This  bitter  grief  to  harbour  now  ? 
As  the  long  banks  of  cloud  distil 
Their  water  when  they  see  the  hill, 


Canto  XLV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


147 


So  shall  the  dropg  of  rapture  run 
From  thy  glad  eyes  to  see  thy  son 
Returning,  as  he  lowly  bends 
To  greet  thee,  girt  by  all  his  friends.' 

Thus  soothing,  kindly  eloquent, 
With  every  hopeful  argument 
Kausalya's  heart  by  sorrow  rent, 

Fair  Queen  Sumitra  ceased. 
Kausalya  heard  each  ple-.isant  plea, 
And  grief  began  to  leave  her  free, 
As  the  light  clouds  of  autumn  flee, 

Their  watery  stores  decreased. 


CANTO  XLV. 


THE  TAMASA'. 


Their  tender  love  the  people  drew 
To  follow  Rama  brave  and  true, 
The  high-souled  hero,  as  he  went 
Forth  from  his  home  to  banishment. 
The  king  himself  his  friends  obeyed, 
And  turned  him  homeward  as  they  prayed. 
But  yet  the  people  turned  not  back, 
Still  close  on  Rama's  chariot  track. 
For  they  who  in  Ayodhya  dwelt 
For  him  such  fond  affection  felt, 
Decked  witli  all  grace  and  glories  high, 
The  dear  full  moon  of  every  eye. 
Though  much  his  people  prayed  and  wept, 
Kakutstha's  son  his  purpose  kept, 
And  still  his  journey  would  pursue 
To  keep  the  king  his  father  true. 
Deep  in  the  hero's  bosom  sank 
Their  love,  whose  signs  his  glad  eye  drank. 
He  spoke  to  cheer  them,  as  his  own 
Dear  children,  in  a  loving  tone  : 
*  If  ye  would  grant  my  fond  desire, 
Give  Bharat  now  that  love  entire 
And  reverence  shown  to  me  by  all 
Who  dwell  within  Ayodhya's  wall. 
For  he,  Kaikeyi's  darling  son, 
His  virtuous  career  will  run. 
And  ever  bound  by  duty's  chain 
Consult  your  weal  and  bliss  and  gain. 
In  judgment  old,  in  years  a  child, 
With  hero  virtues  meek  and  mild, 
A  fitting  lord  is  he  to  cheer 
His  people  and  remove  their  fear. 
In  him  all  kingly  gifts  abound, 
More  noble  than  in  me  are  found : 
Imperial  prince,  well  proved  and  tried — 
Obey  him  as  your  lord  and  guide. 
And  grant,  I  pray,  the  boon  I  ask  : 
To  please  the  king  be  still  your  task, 
That  his  fond  heart,  while  I  remain 
Far  in  the  woods,  may  feel  no  pain.' 

The  more  he  showed  his  will  to  tread 
The  path  where  filial  duty  led, 


'he  more  the  people,  round  him  thronged, 
'or  their  dear  Rama's  empire  longed, 
till  more  attached  his  followers  grew, 
\.s  Rama,  with  his  brother,  drew 
^he  people  with  his  virtues'  ties, 
lamenting  all  with  tear-dimmed  eyes, 
"'he  saintly  twice-born,  triply  old 
n  glory,  knowledge,  seasons  told, 
With  hoary  heads  that  shook  and  bowed, 
?heir  voices  raised  and  spake  aloud: 
O  steeds,  who  best  and  noblest  are, 
Who  whirl  so  swiftly  Rama's  car, 

o  not,  return :  we  call  on  you  : 

e  to  your  master  kind  and  true. 
?or  speechless  things  are  swift  to  hear, 
And  naught  can  match  a  horse's  ear. 
)  generous  steeds,  return,  when  thus 
fou  hear  the  cry  of  all  of  us. 
Sach  vow  he  keeps  most  firm  and  sure, 
And  duty  makes  his  spirit  pure. 
Sack  with  our  chief !  no  t  wood- ward  hence ; 
5ack  to  his  royal  residence  ! ' 

Soon  as  he  saw  the  aged  band. 
Sxolaiming  in  their  misery,  stand, 
And  their  sad  cries  around  him  rang, 
Swift  from  his  chariot  Rama  sprang. 
Then,  still  upon  his  journey  bent, 
With  Sita  and  with  Lakshman  went 
The  hero  by  the  old  men's  side 
Suiting  to  theirs  his  shortened  stride. 
He  could  not  pass  the  twice-born  throng 
As  weariedly  they  walked  along: 
With  pitying  heart,  with  tender  eye, 
He  could  not  in  his  chariot  fly. 
When  the  steps  of  Kama  viewed 
That  still  his  onward  course  pursued, 
Woe  shook  the  troubled  heart  of  each, 
And  burnt  with  grief  th  ey  spoke  this  speech  • 

« With  thee,  O  Rama,  to  the  wood 
All  Brahmans  go  and  Brahmanhood  : 
Borne  on  our  aged  shoulders,  see, 
Our  fires  of  worship  go  with  thee. 
Bright  canopies  that  lend  their  shade 
In  Vajapeya1  rites  displayed, 
In  plenteous  store  are  borne  behind 
Like  cloudlets  in  the  autumn  wind. 
No  shelter  from  the  sun  hast  thou, 
And,  lest  his  fury  burn  thy  brow, 
These  sacrificial  shades  we  bear 
Shall  aid  thee  in  the  noontide  glare. 
Our  hearts,  who  ever  loved  to  pore 
On  sacred  text  and  Vedic  lore, 
Now  all  to  thee,  beloved,  turn, 
And  for  a  life  in  forests  yearn. 
Deep  in  our  aged  bosoms  lies 
The  Vedas'  lore,  the  wealth  we  prize, 
There  still,  like  wives  at  home,  shall  dwell, 
Whose  love  and  truth  protect  them  well. 

1  An  important  sacrifice  at  which  seven- 
teen victims  were  immolated, 


143 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


To  follow  thee  our  hearts  are  bent ; 

We  need  not  plan  or  argument. 

All  else  in  duty's  law  we  slight, 

For  following  thee  is  following  right. 

O  noble  Prince,  retrace  thy  way  : 

O,  hear  us,  Rama,  as  we  lay, 

With  many  tears  and  many  prayers, 

Our  aged  heads  and  swan-white  hairs 

Low  in  the  dust  before  thy  feet ; 

O,  hear  us,  Rama,  we  entreat. 

Full  many  of  these  who  with  thee  run, 

Their  sacred  rites  had  just  begun. 

Unfinished  yet  those  rites  remain  ; 

But  finished  if  thou  turn  again. 

All  rooted  life  and  things  that  move 

To  thee  their  deep  affection  prove. 

To  them,  when  warmed  by  love,  they  glow 

And  sue  to  thee,  some  favour  show 

Each  lowly  bush,  each  towering  tree 

Would  follow  too  for  love  of  thee. 

Bound  by  its  root  it  must  remain  ; 

But— all  it  can— its  boughs  complain, 

As  when  the  wild  wind  rushes  by 

It  tells  its  woe  in  groan  and  tign. 

No  more  through  air  the  gay  birds  flit, 

But,  foodless,  melancholy  sit 

Together  on  the  branch  and  call 

To  thee  whose  kind  heart  feels  for  all.' 

As  wailed  the  aged  Brahmans,  bent 
To  turn  him  back,  with  wild  lament, 
Seemed  Tamnsa  ht-r^elf  to  aid, 
Checking  his  progress,  as  they  prayed, 
Sumantra  from  the  chariot  freed 
With  ready  hand  each  weary  steed; 
He  groomed  them  with  the  utmost  heed, 

Their  limbs  he  bathed  and  dried, 
Then  led  them  forth  to  drink  and  feed 
At  pleasure  in  the  grassv  mead 
That  fringed  the  river  side. 

CANTO  XL VI. 
THE  HALT. 

When  Rama,  chief  of  Raghu's  race, 
Arrived  at  that  delightful  place, 
He  looked  on  Sita  first  and  then 
To  Lakshman  spake  the  lord  of  men  : 
'  Now  first  the  shades  of  night  descend 
Since  to  the  wilds  our  steps  we  bend. 
Joy  to  thee,  brother  1  do  not  grieve 
For  our  dear  home  and  all  we  leave. 
The  woods  unpeopled  seem  to  weep 
Around  us,  as  their  tenants  creep 
Or  fly  to  lair  and  den  and  nest, 
Both  bird  and  beast,  to  seek  their  rest. 
Me  thinks  Ayodhya's  royal  town 
Where  dwells  my  sire  of  high  renown, 
With  all  her  men  and  dames  to-night 
Will  mourn  us  vanished  from  their  sight. 


For,  by  his  virtues  won.  they  cling 
In  fond  affection  to  their  king, 
And  thee  and  me,  O  brave  and  true, 
And  Bharat  and  ^atrughna  too. 
I  for  my  sire  and  mother  feel 
Deep  sorrow  o'er  my  bosom  steal, 
Lest  mourning  us,  oppressed  with  fears, 
They  blind  their  eyes  with  endless  tears. 
Yet  Bharat  s  duteous  love  will  show 
Sweet  comfort  in  their  hours  of  woe, 
And  with  kind  words  their  hearts  sustain, 
Suggesting  duty,  bliss,  and  gain. 
I  mourn  my  parents  now  no  more  : 
1  count  dear  Bharat's  virtues  o'er, 
And  his  kind  love  and  care  dispel 
The  doubts  I  had,  and  all  is  well. 
And  thou  thy  duty  wouldst  not  shun, 
And,  following  me,  hast  nobly  done  ; 
Else,  bravest,  I  should  need  a  band 
Around  my  wife  as  guard  to  stand. 
On  this  first  night,  my  thirst  to  slake, 
Some  water  only  will  I  take  : 
Thus,  brother,  thus  my  will  decides, 
Though  varied  store  the  wood  provides.* 

Thus  having  said  to  Lakshman,  he 
Addressed  in  turn  Sumantra :  Be 
Most  diligent  to-night,  my  friend, 
And  with  due  care  thy  horses  tend.' 
The  sun  had  set :  Sumantra  tied 
His  noble  horses  side  by  side, 
Gave  store  of  grass  with  liberal  hand, 
And  rested  near  them  on  the  strand. 
Each  paid  the  holy  evening  rite, 
And  when  around'them  fell  the  night, 
The  charioteer,  with  Lakshman's  aid, 
A  lowly  bed  for  Rama  laid. 
To  Lakshman  Rama  bade  adieu, 
And  then  by  Mta's  side  he  threw 
His  limbs  upon  the  leafy  bed 
Their  care  upon  the  bank  had  spread. 
When  Lakshman  saw  the  couple  slept, 
8till  on  the  strand  his  watch  lie  kept, 
Still  with  Sumantra  there  conversed, 
And  Rama's  varied  gifts  rehearsed. 
All  night  he  watched,  nor  sought  repose, 
Till  on  the  earth  the  sun  arose : 
With  him  Sumantra  stayed  awake, 
And  still  of  Rama's  virtues  spake. 
Thus,  near  the  river's  grassy  shore 
Which  herds  unnumbered  wandered  o'er, 
Repose,  untroubled,  Rama  found, 
And  all  the  people  lay  around. 
The  glorious  hero  left  his  bed, 
Looked  on  the  sleeping  crowd,  and  said 
To  Lakshman.  whom  each  lucky  line 
Marked  out  for  bliss  with  surest  sign  : 

*  O  brother  Lakshman,  look  on  these 
Reclining  at  the  roots  of  trees  ; 
All  care  of  house  and  home  resigned, 
Caring  for  us  with  heart  and  mind, 
These  people  of  the  city  yearn 


Canto  XLVIL 


THE  MAM  AY  AN. 


149 


To  see  us  to  our  home  return : 

To  quit  their  lives  will  they  consent, 

But  never  leave  their  firm  intent. 

Come,  while  they  all  unconscious  sleep, 

Let  us  upon  the  chariot  leap, 

And  swiftly  on  our  journey  speed 

Where  naught  our  progress  may  impede, 

That  these  fond  citizens  who  roam 

Far  fr.,m  Ikshvaku's  ancient  home, 

No  more  may  sleep  'neath  bush  and  tree, 

Following  still  for  love  of  me. 

A  prince  with  tender  care  should  heal 

The  self  brought  woes  his  people  feel, 

And  never  let  his  subjects  share 

The  burthen  he  is  forced  to  bear.' 

Then  Lakshman  to  the  chief  replied, 
'Who  stood  like  Justice  by  his  side  : 
« Thy  rede,  O  sage,  I  well  commend  : 
Without  delay  the  car  ascend.' 
Then  Rj'ima  to  Sumantra  spoke  : 
'  Thy  rapid  steeds,  I  pray  thee,  yoke. 
Hence  to  the  forest  will  I  go  : 
Away,  my  lord,  and  be  not  slow.' 

Sumantra,  urged  to  utmost  speed, 
Yoked  to  the  car  each  generous  steed, 
And  then,  with  hand  to  hand  applied, 
He  came  before  the  chief  and  cried  : 
'  Hail,  Prince,  whom  mighty  arms  adorn, 
Hail,  bvavee-t  of  the  chariot-borne  1 
With  Sita  and  thy  brother  thou 
Mayst  mount:  the  car  is  ready  now. 

The  hero  clomb  the  car  with  haste: 
His  bow  and  gear  within  were  placed, 
And  quick  the  eddying  flood  he  passed 
Of  Tamasa  whose  waves  run  fast. 
Soon  as  he  touched  the  farther  side, 
Tiiat  strong-armed  hero,  glorified, 
He  found  a  road  both  wide  and  clear, 
Where  e'en  the  timid  naught  couldfear. 
Then,  that  the  crowd  might  be  misled, 
Thus  Rama  to  Sumantra  said: 
«  Speed  north  a  while,  then  hasten  back, 
Returning  in  thy  former  track, 
That  so  the  people  may  not  learn 
The  course  I  follow  :  drive  and  turn. 

Sumantra,  at  the  chief's  behest, 
Quick  to  the  task  himself  addressed  ; 
Then  near  to  Rama  came,  and  showed 
The  chariot  ready  for  the  road. 
With  Sita,  then,  the  princely  two, 
Who  o'er  the  line  of  Raghu  threw 
A  glory  ever  bright  and  new, 

Upon  the  chariot  stood. 
.     Sumantra  fast  and  faster  drove 
His  horses,  who  in  fleetness  strove 
Still  onward  to  the  distant  grove, 
The  hermit-hauuted  wood. 


CANTO  XLVIL 


THE  CITIZENS'  RETURN. 

The  people,  when  the  morn  shone  fair, 

Arose  to  find  no  Rama  there. 

Then  fear  and  numbing  grief  subdued 

The  senses  of  the  multitude. 

The  woe-born  tears  were  running  fast 

As  all  around  their  eyes  they  cast, 

And  sadly  looked,  but  found  no  trace 

Of  Rama,  searching  every  place. 

Bereft  of  Rama  good  and  wise. 

With  drooping  cheer  and  weeping  eyes, 

Each  woe-distracted  sage  gave  vent 

To  sorrow  in  his  wild  lament  : 

4  Woe  worth  the  sleep  that  stole  our  sense 

With  its  beguiling  influence, 

That  now  we  look  in  vain  for  him 

Of  the  broad  chest  and  stalwart  limb! 

How  could  the  strong-armed  hero,  thus 

Deceiving  all,  abandon  us  1 

His  people  so  devoted  see. 

Yet  to  the  woods,  a  hermit,  flee  ? 

How  can  he,  wont  our  hearts  to  cheer, 

As  a  fond  sire  his  children  dear,— 

How  can  the  pride  of  Raghu's  race 
Fly  from  us  to  some  desert  pi  nee  I 
Here  let  us  all  for  death  prepare, 
Or  on  the  last  great  journey  fare  j1 
Of  Rama  our  dear  lord  bereft, 
What  profit  in  our  lives  is  left: 
Huge  trunks  of  trees  around  us  lie. 
With  roots  and  branches  sere  and  dry, 

;  Come  let  us  set  these  logs  on  fire 

I  And  throw  our  bodies  on  the  pyre. 
What  shall  we  speak?    How  can  we  say 
We  followed  Rama  on  his  way, 
The  mighty  chief  whose  arm  is  strong, 

1  Who  sweetly  speaks,  who  thinks  no  wrong? 
Ayodhya's  town  with  sorrow  dumb, 
Without  our  lord  will  see  us  come, 
And  hopeless  misery  will  strike 
Elder,  and  child,  and  dame  alike. 
Forth  with  that  peerless  chief  we  came, 
Whose  mighty  heart  is  aye  the  same : 
How,  reft  of  him  we  love,  shall  we 
Returning  dare  that  town  to  see  ? ' 

Complaining  thus  with  varied  cry 
They  tossed  tUeir  aged  arms  on  high, 
And  their  sad  hearts  with  grief  were  wrung, 
Like  cows  who  sorrow  for  their  young. 
A  while  they  followed  on  tiie  road 
Which  traces  of  his  chariot  showed, 
But  when  at  length  those  traces  failed, 
A  deep  despair  their  hearts  assailed. 

1  The  great  pilgrimage  to  the  Him&- 
layas,  in  order  to  die  there. 


150 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  II. 


The  chariot  marks  no  more  discerned, 

The  hopeless  sages  backward  turned  : 

'  Ah,  what  is  this  ?    What  can  we  more  f 

Fate  stops  the  way,  and  all  is  o'er.' 

With  wearied  hearts,  in  grief  and  shame 

They  took  the  road  by  which  they  came, 

And  reached  Ayodhya's  city,  where 

From  side  to  side  was  naught  but  care, 

With  troubled  spirits  quite  cast  down 

They  looked  upon  the  royal  town, 

And  from  their  eyes,  oppressed  with  woe, 

Their  tears  again  began  to  flow. 

Of  Rama  reft,  the  city  wore 

No  look  of  beauty  as  before. 

Like  a  dull  river  or  a  lake 

By  Garud  robbed  of  every  snake. 

Dark,  dismal  as  the  moonless  sky, 

Or  as  a  sea  whose  bed  is  dry, 

So  sad,  to  every  pleasure  dead, 

They  saw  the  town,  disquieted, 

On  to  their  houses,  high  and  vast, 

Where  stores    of    precious  wealth    were 

massed, 
The  melancholy  Brahmans  passed, 

Their  hearts  with  anguish  cleft : 
Aloof  from  all,  they  came  not  near 
To  stranger  or  to  kinsman  dear, 
Showing  in  faces  blank  and  drear. 

That  not  one  joy  was  left. 

CANTO  XLVIII. 


THE  WOMEN'S  LAMENT. 

When  those  who  forth  with  Rama  went 
Back  to  the  town  their  steps  had  bent, 
It  seemed  that  death  had  touched  and 

chilled 

Those  hearts  which  piercing  sorrow  filled. 
Each  to  his  several  mansion  came, 
And  girt  by  children  and  his  dame, 
From  his  sad  eyes  the  water  shed 
That  o'er  his  cheek  in  torrents  spread. 
All  joy  was  fled  :  oppressed  with  cares 
No  bustling  trader  showed  his  wares. 
Each  shop  had  lost  its  brilliant  look, 
Each  householder  forbore  to  cook. 
No  hand  with  joy  its  earnings  told, 
None  cared  to  win  a  wealth  of  gold, 
And  scarce  the  youthful  mother  smiled 
To  see  her  first,  her  new-born  child. 
In  every  house  a  woman  wailed, 
And  her  returning  lord  assailed 
With  keen  taunt  piercing  like  the  steel 
That  bids  the  tusked  monster  kneel : 
'  What  now  to  them  is  wedded  dame, 
What  house  and  home  and  dearest  aim, 
Or  son,  or  bliss,  or  gathered  store, 
Whose  eyes  on  Rama  look  no  more  ! 
There  is  but  one  in  ull  the  earth, 


One  man  alone  of  real  worth, 

Lakshman,  who  follows,  true  and  good, 

Rama,  with  Sita,  through  the  wood. 

Made  holy  for  all  time  we  deem 

Each  pool  and  fountain,  lake  and  stream, 

If  great  Kakutstha's  son  shall  choose 

Their  water  for  his  bath  to  use. 

Each  forest,  dark  with  lovely  trees, 

Shall  yearn  Kakutstha's  son  to  please  ; 

Each  mountain  peak  and  woody  hill, 

Each  mighty  flood  and  mazy  rill, 

Each  rocky  height,  each  shady  grove 

Where  the  blest  feet  of  Rama  rove, 

Shall  gladly  welcome  with  the  best 

Of  all  they  have  their  honoured  guest. 

The  trees  that  clustering  blossoms  bear, 

And  bright-hued  buds  to  gem  their  hair, 

The  heart  of  Rama  shall  delight, 

And  cheer  him  on  the  breezy  height. 

For  him  the  upland  slopes  will  show 

The  fairest  roots  and  fruit  that  grow, 

And  all  their  wealth  before  him  fling 

Ere  the  due  hour  of  ripening. 

For  him  each  earth-upholding  hill 

Its  crystal  water  shall  distil, 

And  all  its  floods  shall  be  displayed 

In  many  a  thousand-hued  cascade. 

Where  Rama  stands  is  naught  to  fear, 

No  danger  comes  if  he  be  near  ; 

For  all  who  live  on  him  depend, 

The  world's  support,  and  lord,  and  friend. 

Ere  in  too  distant  wilds  he  stray, 

Let  us  to  Rama  speed  away, 

For  rich  reward  on  those  will  wait 

Who  serve  a  prince  of  soul  so  great. 

We  will  attend  on  Sita  there  ; 

Be  Raghu's  son  your  special  care.' 

The  city  dames,  with  grief  distressed, 

Thus  once  again  their  lords  addressed  : 

'  Rama  shall  be  your  guard  and  guide, 

And  Sita  will  for  us  provide. 

For  who  would  care  to  linger  here, 

Where  all  is  sad  and  dark  and  drear  ? 

Who,  mid  the  mourners,  hope  for  blisa 

In  a  poor  soulless  town  like  this  ? 

If  Queen  Kaikeyi's  treacherous  ski, 

Our  lord  expelled,  the  kingdom  win, 

We  heed  not  sons  or  golden  store, 

Our  life  itself  we  prize  no  more. 

If  she,  seduced  by  lust  of  sway, 

Her  lord  and  son  could  cast  away, 

Whom  would  she  leave  unharmed,  the  base 

Defiler  of  her  royal  race  ? 

We  swear  it  by  our  children  dear, 

We  will  not  dwell  as  servants  here  ; 

If  Queen  Kaikeyi  live  to  reign, 

We  will  not  in  her  realm  remain. 

Bowed  down  by  her  oppressive  hand, 

The  helpless,  Iprdless,  godless  land, 

Cursed  for  Kaikeyi's  guilt  will  fall, 

And  swift  destruction  seize  it  all. 


Canto  L. 


THE  RAMAYAR. 


151 


For,  Rama  forced  from  home  to  fly, 
The  king  his  sire  will  surely  die, 
And  when  the  king  has  breathed  his  last 
Ruin  will  doubtless  follow  fast. 
Sad,  robbed  of  merits,  drug  the  cup 
And  drink  the  poisoned  mixture  up, 
Or  share  the  exiled  Rama's  lot, 
Or  seek  some  land  that  knows  her  not. 
No  reason,  but  a  false  pretence 
Drove  Rama,  Sita,  Lakshraan  hence, 
And  we  to  Bharat  have  been 'given 
Like  cattle  to  the  shambles  driven.' 

While  in  each  house  the  women,  pained 
At  loss  of  Rama,  still  complained, 
Sank  to  his  rest  the  Lord  of  Day, 
And  night  through  all  the  sky  held  sway. 
The  fires  of  worship  all  were  cold, 
No  text  was  hummed,  no  tale  was  told, 
And  shades  of  midnight  gloom  came  down 
Enveloping  the  mournful  town. 
Still,  sick  at  heart,  the  women  shed, 
As  for  a  son  or  husband  fled, 
For  Rama  tears,  disquieted  : 

No  child  was  loved  as  he, 
And  all  Ayodhya,  where  the  feast, 
Music,  and  song,  and  dance  had  ceased, 

And  merriment  and  glee, 
Where  every  merchant's  store  was  closed 
That  erst  its  glittering  wares  exposed, 

Was  like  a  dried  up  sea. 

CANTO  XUX, 


THE  CROSSING  OF  THE  RIVERS. 

Now  Rama,  ere  the  night  was  fled, 
O'er  many  a  league  of  road  had  sped, 
Till,  as  his  course  he  onward  held, 
The  morn  the  shades  of  night  dispelled, 
The  rites  of  holy  dawn  he  paid, 
And  all  the  country  round  surveyed. 
He  saw,  as  still  he  hurried  through 
With  steeds  which  swift  as  arrows  flew, 
Hamlets  and  groves  with  blossoms  fair, 
And  fields  which  showed  the  tillers'  care, 
While  from  the  clustered  dwellings  near 
The  words  of  peasants  reached  his  ear : 
*  Fie  on  our  lord  the  king,  whose  soul 
Is  yielded  up  to  love's  control  ! 
Fie  on  the  vile  Kaikeyi !  Shame 
On  that  malicious  sinful  dame, 
Who,  l^eenly  bent  on  cruel  deeds, 
No  bounds  of  right  and  virtue  heeds, 
But  with  her  wicked  art  has  sent 
So  good  a  prince  to  banishment, 
Wise,  tender-hearted,  ruling  well 
His  senses,  in  the  woods  to  dwell. 
Ah  cruel  king  !  his  heart  of  steel 
For  his  own  son  no  love  could  i eel? 
11 


Who  with  the  sinless  Rama  parts, 
The  darling  of  the  people's  hearts.' 

These  words  he  heard  the  peasants  say, 
Who  dwelt  in  hamlets  by  the  way, 
And,  lord  of  all  the  realm  by  right, 
Through  Kosala  pursued  his  flight. 
Through^  the  auspicious  flood,  at  last, 
Of  Vedasruti's  stream  he  passed, 
And  onward  to  the  place  he  sped 
By  Saint  Agastya  tenanted. 
Still  on  for  many  an  hour  he  hied, 
And  crossed  the  stream  whose  cooling  tide 
Rolls  onward  till  she  meets  the  sea, 
The  herd-frequented  Gomati.1 
Borne  by  his  rapid  horses  o'er, 
He  reached  that  river's  farther  shore, 
And  Syandika'a,  whose  swan-loved  stream 
Resounded  with  the  peacock's  scream. 
Then  as  he  journeyed  on  his  road 
To  his  Videhan  bride  he  showed 
The  populous  land  which  Manu  old 
To  King  Ikshvaku  gave  to  hold. 
The  glorious  prince,  the  lord  of  men 
Looked  on  the  charioteer,  and  then 
Voiced  like  a  wild  swan,  loud  and  clear, 
He  spake  these  words  and  bade  him  hear: 
'  When  shall  I,  with  returning  feet 
My  father  and  my  mother  meet  ? 
When  shall  I  lead  the  hunt  once  more 
In  bloomy  woods  on  Sarju's  shore  ? 
Most  eagerly  I  long  to  ride 
Urging  the  chase  on  Sarju's  side, 
For  royal  saints  have  seen  no  blame 
In  this,  the  monarch's  matchless  game.' 

Thus  speeding  on,— no  rest  or  stay,— 
Ikshvaku's  son  pursued  his  way. 
Oft  his  sweet  voice  the  silence  broke, 
And  thus  on  varied  themes  he  spoke. 


CANTO  L. 
THE  HALT  UNDER  THE  INGUDP.* 

So  through  the  wide  and  fair  extent 
Of  Kosala  the  hero  went. 
Then  toward  Ayodhya  back  he  gazed, 
And  cried,  with  suppliant  hands  upraised: 
'  Farewell,  dear  city,  first  in  place, 
Protected  by  Kakutstha's  race  ! 
And  Gods,  who  in  thy  temples  dwell, 
And  keep  thine  ancient  citadel ! 
I  from  his  debt  my  sire  will  free, 
Thy  well-loved  towers  again  will  see, 
Arid,  coming  from  my  wild  retreat, 
Hy  mother  and  my  father  meet.' 


1  Known  to  Europeans  as  the  Goomtee* 
'  A  tree,  commonly  called  Ingua* 


152 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


Then  burning  grief  inflnmed  his  eye, 
As  his  right  arm  he  raised  on  high, 
And,  while  hot  tears  his  cheek  bedewed, 
Addressed  the  mournful  multitude  : 
'By  love  and  tender  pity  moved, 
Your  love  for  me  you  well  have  proved  ; 
Now  turn  again  with  joy,  and  win 
Success  in  all  your  hands  begin.' 

Before  the  high-souled  chief  they  bent, 
With  circling  steps  around  him  went, 
And  then  with  bitter  wailing,  they 
Departed  each  his  several  way. 
Like  the  great  sun  engulfed  by  night, 
The  hero  sped  beyond  their  sight, 
While  still  the  people  mourned  his  fate 
And  wept  aloud  disconsolate. 
The  car-borne  chieftain  passed  the  bound 
Of  Kosala's  delightful  ground. 
Where  grain  and  riches  bless  the  land, 
And  people  give  with  liberal  hand  : 
A  lovely  realm  unvexed  by  fear, 
Where     countless     shrines   and    stakes1 

appear : 

Where  mango-groves  and  gardens  grow, 
And  streams  of  pleasant  water  flow : 
Where  dwells  content  a  well-fed  race, 
And  countless  kine  the  meadows  grace  : 
Filled  with  the  voice  of  praise  and  prayer : 
Each  hamlet  worth  a  monarch's  care.* 
Before  hirn  three-pathed  Ganga  rolled 
Her  heavenly  waters  bright  arid  cold  ; 
O'er  her  pure  breast  no  weeds  were  spread, 
Her  banks  were  hermit-visited. 
The  car-borne  hero  saw  the  tide 
That  ran  with  eddies  multiplied, 
And  thus  the  charioteer  addressed  : 
'  Here  on  the  bank  to-day  we  rest. 
Not  distant  from  the  river,  see  1 
There  grows  a  lofty  Ingudi 
With  blossoms  thick  on  every  spray  : 
There  rest  we,  charioteer,  to-day. 
I  on  the  queen  of  floods  will  gaze, 
Whose  holy  stream  has  highest  praise, 
Where  deer,  and  bird,  and  glittering  snake, 
God,  Daitya,  bard  their  pastime  take.' 

Sumantra,  Lakshman  gave  assent, 
And  with  the  steeds  they  thither  went. 
When  Rama  reached  the  lovely  tree, 
With  Sita  and  with  Lakshman,  he 
Alighted  from  the  car  :  with  speed 
Sumantra  loosed  each  weary  steed, 
And.  hand  to  hand  in  reverence  laid, 
Stood  near  to  Rama  in  the  shade. 
Rama's  dear  friend,  renowned  by  fame, 
Who  of  Nishada  lineage  came, 
Guha,  the  mighty  chief,  adored 
Through  all  the  land  as  sovereign  lord, 
Soon  as  he  heard  that  prince  renowned 


1  Sacrificial  posts  to  which  the  victims 
were  tied, 


Was  resting  on  Nishadn,  ground, 
Begirt  by  counsellor  and  peer 
And  many  an  honoured  friend  drew  near. 
Soon  as  the  monarch  came  in  view, 
Kama  and  Lakshman  toward  him  flew. 
Then  Guha,  at  the  sight  distressed, 
His  arms  around  the  hero  pressed, 
Laid  both  his  hands  upon  his  head 
Bowed  to  those  lotus  feet,  and  said  : 
'  O  Rama,  make  thy  wishes  known, 
And  be  this  kingdom  as  thine  own. 
Who,  mighty-armed,  will  ever  see 
A  guest  so  dear  as  thou  to  me  ? ' 

He  placed  before  him  dainty  fare 
Of  every  flavour,  rich  and  rare, 
Brought  forth  the  gift  for  honoured  guest, 
And  thus  again  the  chief  addressed  : 
•  Welcome,  dear  Prince,  whose  arms  are 

strong  ; 

These  lands  and  all  to  thee  belong. 
Thy  servants  we,  our  lord  art  thou  ; 
Begin,  good  king,  thine  empire  now. 
See,  various  food  before  thee  placed, 
And  cups  to  drink  and  sweets  to  taste. 
For  thee  soft  beds  are  hither  borne, 
And  for  thy  horses  grass  and  corn.' 

To  Guha  as  he  pressed  and  prayed, 
Thus  Kaghu's  son  his  answer  made  : 
'  'Twas  aye  thy  care  my  heart  to  please 
With  honour,  love,  and  courtesies, 
And  friendship  brings  thee  now  to  greet 
Thy  guest  thus  humbly  on  thy  feet.' 

Again  the  hero  spake,  as  round 
The  king  his  shapely  arms  he  wound  : 
'  Guha,  I  see  that  all  is  well 
With  thee  and  those  who  with  thee  dwell; 
That  health  and  bliss  and  wealth  attend 
Thy  realm,  thyself,  and  every  friend. 
But  all  these  friendly  gifts  of  thine, 
Bound  to  refuse,  I  must  decline. 
Grass,  bark,  and  hide  my  only  wear, 
And  woodland  roots  and  fruit  my  fare, 
On  duty  all  my  heart  is  set ; 
I  seek  the  woods,  an  anchoret. 
A  little  grass  and  corn  to  feed 
The  horses — this  is  all  I  need. 
So  by  this  favour,  King,  alone 
Shall  honour  due  to  me  be  shown. 
For  these  good  steeds  who  brought  me  here 
Are  to  my  sire  supremely  dear  ; 
And  kind  attention  paid  to  these 
Will  honour  me  and  highly  please.' 

Then  Guha  quickly  bade  his  train 
Give  water  to  the  steeds,  and  grain. 
And  Kama,  ere  the  night  grew  dark, 
Paid  evening  rites  in  dress  of  bark, 
And  tasted  water,  on  the  strand, 
Drawn  from  the  stream  by  Lakshman'a 

hand. 

And  Lakshman  with  observance  meet 
Bathed  his  beloved  brother's  feet, 


Canto  LII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


153 


Who  rested  with  his  Maithil  spouse  : 
Then  sat  him  down  'neath  distant  boughs. 
And  Guha  with  his  bow  sat  near 
To  Lakshman  and  the  charioteer, 
And  with  the  prince  conversing  kept 
His  faithful  watch  while  Rama  slept. 
As  Dasaratha's  glorious  heir, 
Of  lofty  soul  and  wisdom  rare, 
Reclining  with  his  Sita  there 

Beside  the  river  lay— 
He  who  no  troubles  e'er  had  seen, 
Whose  life  a  life  of  bliss  had  been— 
That  night  beneath  the  branches  green 

Passed  pleasantly  away, 

CANTO  LI. 


LAKSHMAN'S  LAMENT. 

As  Lakshman  still;his  vigil  held 
By  unaffected  love  impelled, 
Guha,  whose  heart  the  sight  distressed, 
With  words  like  these  the  prince  addressed: 
*  Beloved  youth,  this  pleasant  bed 
Was  brought  for  thee,  for  thee  is  spread; 
On  this,  my  Prince,  thine  eyelids  close, 
And  heal  fatigue  with  sweet  repose. 
My  men  are  all  to  labour  trained, 
But  hardship  thou  hast  ne'er  sustained. 
All  we  this  night  our  watch  will  keep 
And  guard  Kakutstha's  son  asleep, 
In  all  the  world  there  breathes  not  one 
More  dear  to  me  than  Raghu's  son. 
The  words  I  speak,  heroic  youth, 
Are  true  :  I  swear  it  by  my  truth. 
Through  his  dear  grace  supreme  renown 
Will,  so  I  trust,  my  wishes  crown. 
So  shall  my  life  rich  store  obtain 
Of  merit,  blest  with  joy  and  gain. 
While  Raghu's  son  and  Sita  lie 
Entranced  in  happy  slumber,  I 
Will,  with  my  trusty  bow  in  hand, 
Guard  my  dear  friend  with  all  my  band. 
To  me,  who  oft  these  forests  range, 
Is  naught  therein  or  new  or  strange. 
We  could  with  equal  might  oppose 
A  four-fold  army  led  by  foes.' 

Then  royal  Lakshman  made  reply: 
'  With^thee  to  stand  as*guardian  nigh, 
Whose  faithful  soul  regards  the  right, 
Fearless  we  well  might  rest  to-night. 
But  how,  when  Rama  lays  his  head 
With  Sita  on  his  lowly  bed, — 
How  can  I  sleep?  how  can  I  care 
For  life,  or  aught  that's  bright  and  fair  ? 
Behold  the  conquering  chief,  whose  might 
Is  match  for  Gods  and  fiends  in  fight  j 
With  Sita  now  he  rests  his  head 
Asleep  on  grass  beneath  him  thread, 


Won  by  devotion,  text,  and  prayer, 
And  many  a  rite  performed  with  care, 
Chief  of  our  father's  sons  he  shines 
Well  marked,  like  him,   with  favouring 

signs. 

Brief,  brief  the  monarch's  life  will  be 
Now  his  dear  son  is  forced  to  flee ; 
And  quickly  will  the  widowed  state 
Mourn  for  her  lord  disconsolate. 
Each  mourner  there  has  wept  her  fill ; 
The  cries  of  anguish  now  are  still  : 
In  the  king's  hall  each  dame,  o'ercome 
With  weariness  of  woe  is  dumb. 
This  first  sad  night  of  grief,  I  ween, 
Will  do  to  death  each  sorrowing  queen: 
Scarce  is  Kausalya  left  alive; 
My  mother,  too,  can  scarce  survive. 
If  when  her  heart  is  fain  to  break, 
She  lingers  for  ^atrughna's  sake, 
Kausalya,  mother  of  the  chief, 
Must  sink  beneath  the  chilling  grief. 
That  town  which  countless  thousands  fill, 
Whose  hearts  with  love  of  Rama  thrill,— 
The  world's  delight,  so  rich  and  fair, — 
Grieved  for  the  king,  his  death  will  share. 
The  hopes  he  fondly  cherished,  crossed, 
Ayodhya's  throne  to  Rama  lost,— 
With  mournful  cries,  Too  late,  too  late  I 
The  king  my  sire  will  meet  his  fate. 
And  when  my  sire  has  passed  away, 
Most  happy  in  thair  lot  are  they, 
Allowed,  with  every  pious  care, 
Part  in  his  funeral  rites  to  bear. 
And  O,  may  we  with  joy  at  last,— 
These  years  of  forest  exile  past, — 
Turn  to  Ayodhya's  town  to  dwell 
With  him  who  keeps  his  promise  well !' 

While  thus  the  hero  mighty-souled, 
In  wild  lament  his  sorrow  told, 
Faint  with  the  load  that  on  him  lay, 
The  hours  of  darkness  passed  away. 
As  thus  the  prince,  impelled  by  zeal 
For  his  loved  brother,  prompt  to  feel 
Strong  yearnings  for  the  people's  weal, 

His  words  of  truth  outspake, 
King  Guha,  grieved  to  see  his  woe. 
Heart-stricken,  gave  his  tears  to  flow, 
Tormented  by  the  common  blow, 

Sad,  as  a  wounded  snake. 

CANTO  LII. 


THE  CROSSING  OF  GANGA'. 

Soon  as  the  shades  of  night  had  fled, 
Uprising  from  his  lowly  bed, 
Rama  the  famous,  broad  of  chest, 
His  brother  Lakshman  thus  addressed  : 
'  Now  swift  upsprings  the  Loi'd  of  Ligh, 
Aud  fled  is  venerable  night, 


154 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


That  dark-winged  bird  the  Koi'l  now 
Is  calling  from  the  topmost  bough, 
And  sounding  from  the  thicket  nigh 
Is  heard  the  peacock's  early  cry. 
Come,  cross  the  flood  that  seeks  the  sea, 
The  swiftly  flowing  Jahnavi.'1 

King  Guha  heard  his  speech,  agreed, 
And  called  his  minister  with  speed  : 
'A  boat,'  he  cried/swift,  strong,  and  fair, 
With  rudder,  oars,  and  men,  prepare, 
And  place  it  ready  by  the  shore 
To  bear  the  pilgrims  quickly  o'er.' 
Thus  Guha  spake :  his  followers  all 
Bestirred  them  at  their  master's  call  ; 
Then  told  the  king  that  ready  manned 
A  gay  boat  waited  near  the  strand. 
Then  Guha,  hand  to  hand  applied. 
With  reverence  thus  to  Rama  cried  : 
'  The  boat  is  ready  by  the  shore : 
How,  tell  me,  can  1  aid  thee  more  7 
O  lord  of  men,  it  waits  for  thee 
To  cross  the  flood  that  seeks  the  sea. 
O  godlike  keeper  of  thy  vow, 
Embark  :  the  boat  is  ready  now.' 
Then  Kama,  lord  of  glory  high, 
Thus  to  King  Guha  made  reply  : 
•Thanks  for  thy  gracious  care,  my  lord  : 
Now  let  the  gear  be  placed  on  board.' 
Each  bow-armed  chief,  in  mail  encased, 
Bound  sword  and  quiver  to  his  waist, 
And  then  with  Sita  near  them  hied 
Down  the  broad  river's  shelving  side. 
Then  with  raised  palms  the  charioteer, 
In  lowly  reverence  drawing  near, 
Cried  thus  to  Rama  good  and  true : 

•  Now  what  remains  for  me  to  do  ?' 

With  his  right  hand,  while  answering, 

The  hero  touched  his  friend : 
*  Go  back,'  he  said,  'and  on  the  king 

With  watchful  care  attend. 
Thus  far,  Sumantra,  thou  wast  guide ; 
Now  to  Ayodhya  turn,'  he  cried  : 

•  Hence  seek  we  leaving  steeds  and  car, 
On  foot  the  wood  that  stretches  far.' 

Sumantra,  when,  with  grieving  heart, 
He  heard  the  hero  bid  him  part, 
Thus  to  the  bravest  of  the  brave, 
Ikshvaku's  son,  his  answer  gave  : 
'  In  all  the  world  men  tell  of  naught, 
To  match  thy  deed,  by  heroes  wrought— 
Thus  with  thy  brother  and  thy  wife 
Thrall-like  to  lead  a  forest  life. 
No  meet  reward  of  fruit  repays 
Thy  holy  lore,  thy  saintlike  days, 
Thy  tender  soul,  thy  love  of  truth, 
If  woe  like  this  afflicts  thy  youth. 
Thou,  roaming  under  forest  boughs 


1  Daughter  of   Jahnu,  a  name  of    the 
Ganges.    See  p.  55. 


With  thy  dear  brother  and  thy  spouse, 
Shalt  richer  meed  of  glory  gain 
Than  if  three  worlds  confessed  thy  reign, 
Sad  is  our  fate,  0  Rama  :  we, 
Abandoned  and  repelled  by  thee, 
Must  serve  as  thralls  Kaikeyi's  will, 
Imperious,  wicked,  born  to  ill.' 

Thus  cried  the  faithful  charioteer, 
As  Raghu's  son,  in  rede  his  peer, 
Was  fast  departing  on  his  road,— 
And  long  his  tears  of  anguish  flowed. 
But  Rama,  when  those  tears  were  dried, 
His  lips  with  water  purified, 
And  in  soft  accents,  sweet  and  clear, 
Again  addressed  the  charioteer  : 
4 1  find  no  heart,  my  friend,  like  thine, 
So  faithful  to  Ikshvaku's  line. 
Still  first  in  view  this  object  keep, 
That  ne'er  for  me  my  sire  may  weep. 
For  he,  the  world's  far-ruling  king, 
Is  old,  and  wild  with  sorrow's  sting ; 
With  love's  great  burthen  worn  and  weak  : 
Deem  this  the  cause  that  thus  I  spea  k 
Whate'er  the  high-souled  king  decrees 
His  loved  Kaikeyi's  heart  to  please, 
Yea,  be  his  order  what  it  may, 
Without  demur  thou  must  obey, 
For  this  alone  great  moriarohs  reign, 
That  ne'er  a  wish  be  formed  in  vain. 
Then,  O  Sumantra,  well  provide 
That  by  no  check  the  king  be  tried  : 
Nor  let  his  heart  in  sorrow  pine  : 
This  care,  my  faithful  friend,  be  thine. 
The  honoured  king  my  father  greet, 
And  thus  for  me  my  words  repeat 
To  him  whose  senses  are  controlled, 
Un tired  till  now  by  grief,  and  old  : 
'  I,  Sita,  Lakshman  sorrow  not, 
O  Monarch,  for  our  altered  lot : 
The  same  to  us,  if  here  we  roam, 
Or  if  Ayodhya  be  our  home. 
The  fourteen  years  will  quickly  fly, 
The  happy  hour  will  soon  be  nigh 
When  thou,  my  lord,  again  shalt  see 
Lakshman,  the  Maithi'  dame,  and  me 
Thus  having  soothed,  O  charioteer, 
My  father  and  my  mother  dear, 
Let  all  the  queens  my  message  learn, 
But  to  Kaikeyi  chiefly  turn. 
With  loving  blessings  from  the  three, 
From  Lakshman,  Sita,  and  from  me, 
My  mother,  Queen  Kausalya,  greet 
With  reverence  to  her  sacred  feet. 
And  add  this  prayer  of  mine  :  '  O  King, 
Bend  quickly  forth  and  Bharat  bring, 
And  set  him  on  the  royal  throne 
Which  thy  decree  has  made  his  own. 
When  he  upon  the  throne  is  placed, 
When  thy  fond  arms  are  round  him  laced, 
Thine  aged  heart  will  cease  to  ache 
itter  pangs  for  lama's  sake.' 


Canto 


LIL 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


155 


And  say  to  Bharat :  *  See  thou  treat 
The  queens  with  all  observance  meet : 
What  care  the  king  receives,  the  same 
Show  thou  alike  to  every  dame. 
Obedience  to  thy  father's  will 
Who  chooses  thee  the  throne  to  fill, 
Will  earn  for  thee  a  store  of  bliss 
Both  in  the  world  to  come  and  this.* 

Thus  Rama  bade  Sumantra  go 
With  thoughtful  care  instructed  so. 
Sumantra  all  his  message  heard, 
And  spake  again,  by  passion  stirred  : 
'  O,  should  deep  feeling  mar  in  aught 
The  speech  by  fond  devotion  taught, 
Forgive  whatever  I  wildly  speak : 
My  love  is  strong,  my  tongue  is  weak, 
How  shall  I,  if  deprived  of  thee, 
Return  that  mournful  town  to  see  : 
Where  sick  at  heart  the  people  are 
Because  their  Rama  roams  afar. 
Woe  will  be  theirs  too  deep  to  brook 
When  on  the  empty  car  they  look, 
As  when  from  hosts,  whose  chiefs  are  slain, 
One  charioteer  comes  home  again. 
This  very  day,  I  ween,  is  food 
Forsworn  by  all  the  multitude, 
Thinking  that  thou,  with  hosts  to  aid, 
Art  dwelling  in  the  wild  wood's  shade. 
The  great  despair,  the  shriek  of  woe 
They  uttered  when  they  saw  thee  go, 
Will,  when  I  come  with  none  beside, 
A  hundred-fold  be  multiplied. 
How  to  Kausalya  can  I  say  : 
'  O  Queen,  I  took  thy  son  away, 
And  with  thy  brother  left  him  well  : 
Weep  not  for  him;  thy  woe  dispel? ' 
So  false  a  tale  I  cannot  frame, 
Yet  how  speak  truth  and  grieve  the  dame? 
How  shall  these  horses,  fleet  and  bold, 
Whom  not  a  hand  but  mine  can  hold, 
Bear  others,  wont  to  whirl  the  car 
Wherein  Ikshvaku's  children  are  ! 
Without  thee,  Prince,  I  cannot,  no, 
I  cannot  to  Ayodhya  go. 
Then  deign,  O  Kama,  to  relent, 
And  let  me  share  thy  banishment. 
But  if  no  prayers  can  move  thy  heart, 
If  thou  wilt  quit  me  and  depart, 
The  flames  shall  end  my  car  and  me, 
Deserted  thus  and  reft  of  thee. 
In  the  wild  wood  when  foes  are  near, 
When  dangers  check  thy  vows  austere, 
Borne  in  my  car  will  I  attend. 
All  danger  and  all  care  to  end. 
For  thy  dear  sake  I  love  the  skill 
That  guides  the  steed  and  curbs  his  will  : 
And  soon  a  forest  life  will  be 
As  pleasant,  for  my  love  of  thee. 
And  if  these  horses  near  thee  dwell, 
And  serve  thee  in  the  forest  well, 
They,  for  their  service,  will  not  miss 


The  due  reward  of  highest  bliss. 
Thine  orders,  as  with  thee  I  stray, 
Will  I  with  heart  and  head  obey, 
Prepared,  for  thee,  without  a  sigh, 
To  lose  Ayodhy&  or  the  sky. 
As  one  defiled  with  hideous  sin, 
I  never  more  can  pass  within 
Ayodhya,  city  of  our  king, 
Unless  beside  me  thee  I  bring. 
One  wish  is  mine,  I  ask  no  more, 
That,  when  thy  banishment  is  o'er 
I  in  my  car  may  bear  my  lord, 
Triumphant,  to  his  home  restored. 
The  fourteen  years,  if  spent  with  thee, 
Will  swift  as  light-winged  moments  flee; 
But  the  same  years,  without  thee  told, 
Were  magnified  a  hundred- fold. 
Do  not,  kind  lord,  thy  servant  leave. 
Who  to  his  master's  son  would  cleave, 
And  the  same  path  with  him  pursue, 
Devoted,  tender,  just  and  true.' 

Again,  again  Sumantra  made 
His  varied  plaint,  and  wept  and  prayed. 
Him  Kaghu's  son,  whose  tender  breast 
Felt  for  his  servants,  thus  addressed  : 
'  O  faithful  servant,  well  my  heart 
Knows  how  attached  and  true  thou  art. 
Hear  thou  the  words  I  speak,  and  know 
Why  to  the  town  I  bid  thee  go. 
Soon  as  Kaikeyi,  youngest  queen, 
Thy  coming  to  the  town  has  seen, 
No  doubt  will  then  her  mind  oppress 
That  Rama  roams  the  wilderness. 
And  so  the  darne,  her  heart  content 
With  proof  of  Rama's  banishment, 
Will  doubt  the  virtuous  king  no  more 
As  faithless  to  the  oath  he  swore. 
Chief  of  my  cares  is  this,  that  she, 
Youngest  amid  the  queens,  may  see 
Bharat  her  son  securely  reign 
O'er  rich  Ayodhya's  wide  domain. 
For  mine  and  for  the  monarch's  sake 
Do  thou  thy  journey  homeward  take, 
And,  as  I  bade,  repeat  each  word 
That  from  my  lips  thou  here  hast  heard.' 

Thus  spake  the  prince,  and  strove  to  cheer 
The  sad  heart  of  the  charioteer, 
And  then  to  royal  Guha  said 
These  words  most  wise  and  spirited  : 

Guha,  dear  friend,  it  is  not  meet 
That  people  throng  my  calm  retreat: 
For  I  must  live  a  strict  recluse, 
And  mould  my  life  by  hermits'  use, 
[  now  the  ancient  rule  accept 
By  good  ascetics  gladly  kept. 
[  go  :  bring  fig-tree  juice  that  I 
[n  matted  coils  my  hair  may  tie.' 

Quick  Guha  hastened  to  produce, 
For  the  king's  son,  that  sacred  juice, 
["hen  Rama  of  his  long  locks  made, 
And  Lakshman's  too,  the  hermit  braid. 


156 


TEE  RAM  AT  AN. 


Boole  II. 


And  the  two  royal  brothers  there 
With  coats  of  bark  and  matted  hair, 
Transformed  in  lovely  likeness  stood 
To  hermit  saints  who  love  the  wood. 
So  Kama,  with  his  brother  bold, 
A  pious  anchorite  enrolled, 
Obeyed  the  vow  which  hermits  take, 
And  to  his  friend,  King  Guha,  spake  : 
*  May  people,  treasure,  army  share, 
And  fenced  forts,  thy  constant  care  : 
Attend  to  all :  supremely  hard 
The^sovereign's  task,  to  watch  and  guard.' 

Ikshvaku's  son,  the  good  and  brave, 
This  last  farewell  to  Guha  gave, 
And  then,  with  Lakshman  and  his  bride, 
Determined,  on  his  way  he  hied. 
Soon  as  he  viewed,  upon  the  shore, 
The  bark  prepared  to  waft  them  o'er 
Impetuous  Ganga's  rolling  tide, 
To  Lakshman  thus  the  chieftain  cried  : 
'  Brother,  embark  ;  thy  hand  extend, 
Thy  gentle  aid  to  Sita  lend  : 
With  care  her  trembling  footsteps  guide, 
And  place  the  lady  by  thy  side.' 
When  Lakshman  heard,  prepared  to  aid. 
His  brother's  words  he  swift  obeyed. 
Within  the  bark  he  placed  the  dame, 
Then  to  her  side  the  hero  came. 
Next  Lakshman's  elder  brother,  lord 
Of  brightest  glory,  when  on  board, 
Breathing  a  prayer  for  blessings,  meet 
For  priest  or  warrior  to  repeat. 
Then  he  and  car-borne  Lakshman  bent, 
Well-pleased,  their  heads,  most  reverent, 
Their  hands,  with  Sita,  having  dipped, 
As  Scripture  bids,  and  water  sipped, 
Farewell  to  wise  Sumantra  said, 
And  Guha,  with  the  train  he  led. 
So  Rama  took,  on  board,  his  stand, 
And  urged  the  vessel  from  the  land. 
Then  swift  by  vigorous  arms  impelled 
Her  onward  course  the  vessel  held, 
And  guided  by  the  helmsman  through 
The  dashing  waves  of  Ganga  flew. 
Half  way  across  the  flood  they  came, 
When  Sita,  free  from  spot  and  blame, 
Her  reverent  hands  together  pressed, 
The  Goddess  of  the  stream  addressed  : 
•  May  the  great  chieftain  here  who  springs 
From  Dasaratha,  best  of  kings, 
Protected  by  thy  care,  fulfil 
His  prudent  father's  royal  will. 
When  in  the  forest  he  has  spent 
His  fourteen  years  of  banishment, 
With  his  dear  brother  and  with  me 
His  home  again  my  lord  shall  see. 
Returning  on  that  blissful  day, 
I  will  to  thee  mine  offerings  pay, 
Dear  Queen,  whose  waters  gently  flow, 
Who  canst  all  blessed  gifts  bestow. 


or,  three-pathed  Queen,  though  wander- 
ing here, 

hy  waves  descend  from  Brahma's  sphere 
»pouse  of  the  God  o'er  floods  supreme, 
Chough  rolling  here  thy  glorious  stream. 
\>  thee,  fair  Queen,  my  head  shall  bend, 
"o  thee  shall  hymns  of  praise  ascend, 
When  my  brave  lord  shall  turn  again, 
And,  joyful,  o'er  his  kingdom  reign, 
["o  win  thy  grace,  O  Queen  divine, 
A  hundred  thousand  fairest  kine, 
And  precious  robes  and  finest  meal 
Among  the  Brahmans  will  I  deal. 
A  hundred  jars  of  wine  shall  flow, 
kVhen  to  my  home,  O  Queen,  I  go  ; 
With  these,  and  flesh,  and  corn,  and  rice, 
Will  I,  delighted,  sacrifice. 
Sach  hallowed  spot,  each  holy  shrine 
That  stands  on  these  fair  shores  of  thine, 
Sach  fane  and  altar  on  thy  banks 
Shall  share  my  offerings  and  thanks. 
Nith  me  and  Lakshman,  free  from  harm, 
May  he  the  blameless,  strong  of  arm, 
Eleseek  Ayodhya  from  the  wild, 
O  blameless  Lady  undefiled !' 

As,  praying  for  her  husband's  sake, 
The  faultless  dame  to  Ganga  spake, 
To  the  right  bank  the  vessel  flew 
With  her  whose  heart  was  right  and  true. 
Soon  as  the  bark  had  crossed  the  wave, 
The  lion  leader  of  the  brave, 
Leaving  the  vessel  on  the  strand, 
With  wife  and  brother  leapt  to  land. 
Then  Rama  thus  the  prince  addressed 
Who  filled  with  joy  Sumitra's  breast: 
'  Be  thine  alike  to  guard  and  aid 
In  pe&pled  spot,  in  lonely  shade. 
Do  thou,  Sumitra's  son,  precede  : 
Let  Sita  walk  where  thou  shalt  lead. 
Behind  you  both  my  place  shall  be, 
To  guard  the  Maithil  dame  and  thee. 
For  she,  to  woe  a  stranger  yet, 
No  toil  or  grief  till  now  has  met ; 
The  fair  Videhan  will  assay 
The  pains  of  forest  life  to-day. 
To-day  her  tender  feet  must  tread 
Rough  rocky  wilds  around  her  spread: 
No  tilth  is  there,  no  gardens  grow, 
No  crowding  people  come  and  go.' 

The  hero  ceased  :  and  Lakshman  led 
Obedient  to  the  words  he  said  : 
And  Sita  followed  him,  and  then 
Came  Raghu's  pride,  the  lord  of  men. 
With  Sita  walking  o'er  the  sand 
They  sought  the  forest,  bow  in  hand, 
But  still  their  lingering  glances  threw 
Where  yet  Sumantra  stood  in  view. 
Sumantra,  when  his  watchful  eye 
The  royal  youths  no  more  could  spy, 
Turned  from  the  spot  whereon  he  stood 
Homeward  with  Guha  from  the  wood; 


Canto  LI II. 


THE  RlMAYAN. 


157 


Still  on  the  brothers  forced  their  way 
Where  sweet  birds  sang  on  every  spray, 
Though  scarce  the  eye  a  path  could  find 
Mid  flowering  trees  where  creepers  twined. 
Far  on  the  princely  brothers  pressed, 
And  stayed  their  feet  at  length  to  rest 
Beneath  a  fig-tree's  mighty  shade 
With  countless  pendent  shoots  displayed. 
Reclining  there  a  while  at  ease, 
They  saw,  not  far,  beneath  fair  trees 
A  lake  with  many  a  lotus  bright 
That  bore  the  name  of  Lovely  Sight. 
Rama  his  wife's  attention  drew, 
And  Lakshman's,  to  the  charming  view  : 
'  Look,  brother,  look  how  fair  the  flood 
Glows  with  the  lotus,  llower  and  bud  1 ' 
They  drank  the  water  fresh  and  clear, 
And  with  their  shafts  they  slew  a  deer. 
A  fire  of  boughs  they  made  in  haste, 
And  in  the  flame  the  meat  they  placed. 
So  Kaghu's  sons  with  Sita  shared 
The  hunter's  meal  their  hauds  prepared, 
Then  counselled  that  the  spreading  tree 
Their  shelter  and  their  home  should  be. 


CANTO  LIII. 


RAMA'S  LAMENT. 

When  evening  rites  were  duly  paid, 
Keclined  beneath  the  leafy  shade, 
To  Lakshman  thus  spake  Rama,  best 
Of  those  who' glad  a  people's  breast : 
'  Now  the  first  night  has  closed  the  day 
That  saw  us  from  our  country  stray, 
And  parted  from  the  charioteer  ; 
Yet  grieve  not  thou,  my  brother  dear. 
Henceforth  by  night,  when  others  sleep, 
Must  we  our  careful  vigil  keep, 
Watching  for  Sita's  welfare  thus, 
For  her  dear  life  depends  on  us. 
Bring  me  the  leaves  that  lie  around, 
And  spread  them  here  upon  the  ground, 
That  we  on  lowly  beds  may  lie, 
And  let  in  talk  the  night  go  by.' 

So  on  the  ground  with  leaves  o'erspread, 
He  who  should  press  a  royal  bed, 
Rama  with  Lakshman  thus  conversed, 
And  many  a  pleasant  tale  rehearsed  : 
'This  night  the  king,'  he  cried,  *  alas  ! 
In  broken  sleep  will  sadly  pass. 
Kaikeyi  now  content  should  be, 
For  mistress  of  her  wish  is  she. 
So  fiercely  she  for  empire  yearns, 
That  when  her  Bharat  home  returns, 
She  in  her  greed,  may  even  bring 
Destruction  on  our  lord  the  king. 
What  can  he  do,  in  feeble  eld, 
Reft  of  all  aid  and  me  expelled, 


His  soul  enslaved  by  love,  a  thrall 

Obedient  to  Kaikeyi 's  call  ? 

As  thus  I  muse  upon  his  woe 

And  all  his  wisdom's  overthrow, 

Love  is,  methinks,  of  greater  might 

To  stir  the  heart  than  gain  and  right. 

For  who,  in  wisdom's  lore  untaught. 

Could  by  a  beauty's  prayer  be  bought 

To  quit  his  own  obedient  son, 

Who  loves  him,  as  my  sire  has  done  ? 

Bharat,  Kaikeyi's  child,  alone 

Will,  with  his  wife,  enjoy  the  throne, 

And  blissfully  his  rule  maintain 

O'er  happy  Kosala's  domain. 

To  Bharat's  single  lot  will  fall 

The  kingdom  and  the  power  and  all, 

When  fails  the  king  from  length  of  days, 

And  Rarna  in  the  forest  strays. 

Whoe'er,  neglecting  right  and  gain, 

Lets  conquering  love  his  soul  enchain, 

To  him,  like  Dasaratha's  lot, 

Comes  woe  with  feet  that  tarry  not. 

Methinks  at  last  the  royal  dame, 

Dear  Lakshmun,  has  secured  her  aim, 

To  see  at  once  her  husband  dead, 

Her  son  enthroned,  and  Rama  fled. 

Ah  me  1    I  fear,  lest  borne  away 

By  frenzy  of  success,  she  slay 

Kausalya,  through  her  wicked  hate 

Of  me,  bereft,  disconsolate  ; 

Or  her  who  aye  for  me  has  striven 

Sumitra,  to  devotion  given. 

Hence,  Lakshman,  to  Ayodhya  speed, 

Returning  in  the  hour  of  need. 

With  Sita  I  my  steps  will  bend 

Where  Dandak's  mighty  woods  extend. 

No  guardian  has  Kausalya  now  : 

O,  be  her  friend  and  guardian  thou. 

Strong  hate  may  vile  Kaikeyi  lead 

To  many  a  base  unrighteous  deed, 

Treading  my  mother  'neath  her  feet 

When  Bharat  holds  the  royal  seat. 

Sure  in  some  antenatal  time 

Were  children,  by  Kausalya's  crime, 

Torn  from  their  mothers1  arms  away, 

And  hence  she  mourns  this  evil  day. 

She  for  her  child  no  toil  would  spare 

Tending  me  long  with  pain  and  care  ; 

Now  in  the  hour  of  fruitage  she 

Has  lost  that  son,  ah,  woe  is  me. 

O  Lakshman,  may  no  matron  e'er 

A  son  so  doomed  to  sorrow  bear 

As  I,  my  mother's  heart  who  rend 

With  anguish  that  can  never  end. 

The  Sarika,1  methinks,  possessed 

More  love  than  glows  in  Rama's  breast, 

Who,  as  the  tale  is  told  to  us, 

Addressed  the  stricken  parrot  thus  : 


1  The   Maind  or  Gracula  religiosa,  a 
favourite  cage-bird,  easily  taught  to  talk 


158 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  11. 


'  Parrot,  the  capturer's  talons  tear, 
While  yet  alone  thou  flutterest  there, 
Before  his  mouth  has  closed  on  me: ' 
So  cried  the  bird,  herself  to  free. 
Reft  of  her  son,  in  childless  woe, 
My  mother's  tears  for  ever  flow: 
Ill-fated,  doomed  with  grief  to  strive, 
"What  aid  can  she  from  me  derive? 
Pressed  down  by  care,  she  cannot  rise 
From  sorrow's  flood  wherein  she  lies. 
In  righteous  wrath  my  single  arm 
Could,  with  my  bow,  protect  from  harm 
Ayodhya's  town  and  all  the  earth  : 
But  what  is  hero  prowess  worth  ? 
Lest  breaking  duty's  law  I  sin, 
And  lose  the  heaven  I  strive  to  win, 
The  forest  life  to-day  I  choose, 
And  kingly  state  and  power  refuse.' 

Thus  mourning  in  that  lonely  spot 
The  troubled  chief  bewailed  his  lot, 
And  tilled  with  tears,  his  eyes  ran  o'er  ; 
Then  silent  sat.  and  spake  no  more. 
To  him,  when  ceased  his  loud  lament, 
Like  fire  whose  brilliant  might  is  spent, 
Or  the  great  sea  when  sleeps  the  wave, 
Thus  Lakshman  consolation  gave: 
'Chief  of  the  brave  who  bear  the  bow, 
E'en  now  Ayodhya,  sunk  in  woe, 
By  thy  departure  reft  of  light 
Is  gloomy  as  the  moonless  night. 
Unfit  it  seems  that  thou,  O  chief, 
Shouldst  so  afflict  thy  soul  with  grief, 
So  with  thou  Site's  heart  consign 
To  deep  despair  as  well  as  mine. 
Not  I,  O  Kaghu's  son,  nor  she 
Could  live  one  hour  deprived  of  thee  : 
"We  were,  without  thine  arm  to  save, 
Like  fish  deserted  by  the  wave. 
Although  my  mother  dear  to  meet, 
^atrughna,  and  the  king,  were  sweet, 
On  them,  or  heaven,  to  feed  mine  eye 
Were  nothing,  if  thou  wert  not  by.' 

Sitting  at  ease,  their  glances  fell 
Upon  the  beds,  constructed  well, 
And  there  the  sons  of  virtue  laid 
Their  limps  beneath  the  fig-tree's  shade. 

CANTO  LIV. 


BHARADVAJA'S  HERMITAGE. 

So  there  that  night  the  heroes  spent 
Under  the  boughs  that  o'er  them  bent, 
And  when  the  sun  his  glory  spread, 
Upstarting,  from  the  place  they  sped. 
On  to  that  spot  they  made  their  way, 
Through  the  dense  wood  that  round  them 

lay, 
Where  Yamuna's1  swift  waters  glide 


1  The  Jumna. 


To  blend  with  Ganga's  holy  tide. 
Charmed  with  the  prospect  ever  new 
The  glorious  heroes  wandered  through 
Full  many  a  spot  of  pleasant  ground, 
Rejoicing  as  they  gazed  around. 
With  eager  eye  and  heart  at  ease, 
On  countless  sorts  of  flowery  trees. 
And  now  the  day  was  half-way  sped 
When  thus  to  Lakshman  Rama  said  : 
*  There,  there,  dear  brother,  turn  thine  eyes ; 
See  near  Prayag1  that  smoke  arise: 
The  banner  of  our  Lord  of  Flames 
The  dwelling  of  some  saint  proclaims. 
Near  to  the  place  our  steps  we  bend 
Where  Yamuna  and  Ganga  blend. 
I  hear  and  mark  the  deafening  roar 
When  chafing  floods  together  pour. 
See,  near  us  on  the  ground  are  left 
Dry  logs,  by  labouring  woodmen  cleft, 
And  the  tall  trees,  that  blossom  near 
Saint  Bharadvaja's  home,  appear.' 

The  bow-armed  princes  onward  pass  ed, 
And  as  the  sun  was  sinking  fast 
They  reached  the  hermit's  dwelling,  set 
Near  where  the  rushing  waters  met. 
The  presence  of  the  warrior  scared 
The  deer  and  birds  as  on  he  fared, 
And  struck  them  with  unwonted  awe : 
Then  Bharadvaja's  cot  they  saw. 
The  high-souled  hermit  soon  they  found 
Girt  by  his  dear  disciples  round  : 
Calm  saint,  whose  vows  had  well  been 

wrought, 

Whose  fervent  rites  keen  sight  had  bought. 
Duly  had  flames  of  worship  blazed 
When  Rama  on  the  hermit  gazed  : 
His  suppliant  hands  the  hero  raised, 
Drew  nearer  to  the  holy  man 
With  his  companions,  and  began, 
Declaring  both  his  name  and  race 
And  why  they  sought  that  distant  place  ; 
•  Saint,  Dasaratha's  children  we, 
Rama  and  Lakshman,  come  to  thee. 
This  my  good  wife  from  Janak  springs, 
The  best  of  fair  Videha's  kings  ; 
Through  lonely  wilds,  a  faultless  dame, 
To  this  pure  grove  with  me  she  came. 
My  younger  brother  follows  still 
Me  banished  by  my  father's  will: 
Sumitra's  son,  bound  by  a  vow, — 
He  roams  the  wood  beside  me  now. 
Sent  by  my  father  forth  to  rove, 
We  seek,  O  .Saint,  some  holy  grove, 
Where  lives  of  hermits  we  may  lead, 
And  upon  fruits  and  berries  feed.' 

When  Bharadvaja,  prudent-souled, 
Had  heard  the  prince  his  tale  unfold, 
Water  he  bade  them  bring,  a  bull, 
And  honour-gifts  in  dishes  full, 

1  The  Hindu  name  of  Allahabad. 


Canto  LV. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


150 


And  drink  and  food  of  varied  taste, 
Berries  arid  roots,  before  him  placed, 
And  then  the  great  ascetic  showed 
A  cottage'for  the  guests'  abode. 
The  saint  these  honours  gladly  paid 
To  Rama  who  had  thither  strayed, 
Then  compassed  sat  by  birds  and  deer 
And  many  a  hermit  resting  near. 
The  prince  received  the  service  kind, 
And  sat  him  down  rejoiced  in  mind. 
Then  Bharadvaja  silence  broke, 
And  thus  the  words  of  duty  spoke  : 
'  Kakutstha's  royal  son,  that  thou 
Hadst  sought  this  grove  I  knew  ere  now. 
Mine  ears  have  heard  thy  story,  sent 
Without  a  sin  to  banishment. 
Behold,  O  Prince,  this  ample  space 
Near  where  the  mingling  floods  embrace, 
Holy,  and  beautiful,  and  clear  : 
Dwell  with  us,  and  be  happy  hera' 

By  Bharadvaja  thus  addressed, 
Earn  a  whose  kind  and  tender  breast 
All  living  things  would  bless  and  save, 
In  gracious  words  his  answer  gave  : 

4  My  honoured  lord,  this  tranquil  spot, 
Fair  home  of  hermits,  suits  me  not : 
For  all  the  neighbouring  people  here 
Will  seek  us  when  they  know  me  near: 
With  eager  wish  to  look  on  me, 
And  the  Videhan  dame  to  see, 
A  crowd  of  rustics  will  intrude 
Upon  the  holy  solitude. 
Provide,  O  gracious  lord,  I  pray, 
Some  quiet  home  that  lies  away, 
Where  my  Videhan  spouse  may  dwell 
Tasting  the  bliss  deserved  so  well.' 

The  hermit  heard  the  prayer  he  made: 
A  while  in  earnest  thought  he  stayed, 
And  then  in  words  like  these  expressed 
His  answer  to  the  chief's  request : 
'Ten  leagues  away  there  stands  a  hill 
Where  thou  mayst  live,  if  such  thy  will : 
A  holy  mount,  exceeding  fair  ; 
Great  saints  have  made  their  dwelling 

there  : 

There  great  Langurs1  in  thousands  play, 
And  bears  amid  the  thickets  stray  ; 
Wide-known  by  Chitrakuta's  name, 
It  rivals  Gandhamadan's2  fame. 
Long  as  the  man  that  hill  who  seeks 
Gazes  upon  its  sacred  peaks, 
To  holy  things  his  soul  he  gives 
And  pure  from  thought  of  evil  lives. 
There,  while  a  hundred  autumns  fled, 
Has  many  a  saint  with  hoary  head 
Spent  his  pure  life,  and  won  the  prize, 
By  deep  devotion,  in  the  skies  : 


1  The  Langur  is  a  large  monkey. 

2  A  mountain  said  to  lie  to  the  east  of 
Meru, 


Best  home,  I  ween,  if  such  retreat, 
Far  from  the  ways  of  men.  be  sweet : 
Or  let  thy  years  of  exile  flee 
Here  in  this  hermitage  with  me.' 

Thus  Bharadvaja  spake,  and  trained 
In  lore  of  duty,  entertained 
The  princes  and  the  dame,  and  pressed 
His  friendly  gifts  on  every  guest. 

Thus  to  Prayag  the  hero  went, 
Thus  saw  the  saint  preeminent, 
And  varied  speeches  heard  and  said  : 
Then  holy  night  o'er  heaven  was  spread. 
And  Rama  took,  by  toil  oppressed, 
With   Sita  and  his  brother,  rest  ; 
And  so  the  night,  with  sweet  content, 
In  Bharadvaja's  grove  was  spent. 
But  when  the  dawn  dispelled  the  night, 
Kama  approached  the  anchorite, 
And  thus  addressed  the  holy  sire 
Whose  glory  shone  like  kindled  fire  : 
'  Well  have  we  spent,  O  truthful  Sage, 
The  night  within  thy  hermitage  : 
Now  let  my  lord  his  guests  permit 
For  their  new  home  his  grove  to  quit.' 

Then,  as  he  saw  the  morning  break, 
In  answer  Bharadvaja  spake  : 
'  Go  forth  to  Chitrakuta's  hill, 
Where  berries  grow,  and  sweets  distil : 
Full  well,  I  deem,  that  home  will  suit 
Thee,  Kama,  strong  and  resolute. 
Go  forth,  and  Chitrakuta  seekr 
Famed  mountain  of  the  Varied  Peak. 
In  the  wild  woods  that  gird  him  round 
All  creatures  of  the  chase  are  found : 
Thou  in  the  glades  shalt  see  appear 
Vast  herds  of  elephants  and  deer. 
With  Sita  there  shalt  thou  delight 
To  gaze  upon  the  woody  height ; 
There  with  expanding  heart  to  look 
On  river,  table-land,  and  brook, 
And  see  the  foaming  torrent  rave 
Impetuous  from  the  mountain  cave. 
Auspicious  hill !  where  all  day  long 
The  lapwing's  cry,  the  Ko'il's  song 

Make  all  who  listen  gay  : 
Where  all  is  fresh  and  fair  to  see, 
Where  elephants  and  deer  roam  free, 

There,  as  a  hermit,  stay.' 


CANTO  LV. 


THE  PASSAGE  OF  YAMUNA'. 

The  princely  tamers  of  their  foes 
Thus  passed  the  night  in  calm  repose, 
Then  to  the  hermit  having  bent 
With  reverence,  on  their  way  they  went. 
High  favour  Bharadvaja  showed, 
And  blessed  them  ready  for  the  road, 


160 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  IT. 


With  such  fond  looks  as  fathers  throw 
On  their  own  sons  before  they  go. 
Then  spake  the  saint  with  glory  bright 
To  Rama  peerless  in  his  might : 
*  First,  lords  of  men,  direct  your  feet 
Where  Yamuna  and  Ganga  meet ; 
Then  to  the  swift  Kalindi1  go, 
Whose  westward  waves  to  Ganga  flow. 
When  thou  shalt  see  her  lovely  shore 
Worn  by  their  feet  who  hasten  o'er, 
Then,  Raghu's  son,  a  raft  prepare, 
And  cross  the  Sun-born  river  there. 
Upon  her  farther  bank  a  tree, 
Near  to  the  landing  wilt  thou  see. 
The  blessed  source  of  varied  gifts, 
There  her  green  boughs  th at  Eig  tree  lifts: 
A  tree  where  countless  birds  abide, 
By  3yama's  name  known  far  and  wide. 
Sita.'revere  that  holy  shade : 
There  be  thy  prayers  for  blessing  prayed. 
Thence  for  a  league  your  way  pursue, 
And  a  dark  wood  shall  meet  your  view, 
Where  tall  bamboos  their  foliage  show, 
The  Gum-tree  and  the  Jujube  grow. 
To  Chitrakuta  have  I  oft 
Trodden  that  path  so  smooth  and  soft, 
Where  burning  woods  no  traveller  scare, 
But  all  is  pleasant,  green,  and  fair.' 
When  thus  the  guests  their  road  had 

learned, 

Back  to  his  cot  the  hermit  turned, 
And  Rama,  Lakshman,  Sita  paid 
Their  reverent  thanks'f  or  courteous  aid. 
Thus  Rama  spake  to  Lakshman,  when 
The  saint  had  left  the  lords  of  men  : 
'  Great  store  of  bliss  in  sooth  is  ours 
On  whom  his  love  the  hermit  showers.' 
As  each  to  other  wisely  talked, 
The  lion  lords  together  walked 
On  to  Kalindi's  woody  shore  ; 
And  gentle  Sita  went  before. 
They  reached  that  flood,  whose  waters  flee 
With  rapid  current  to  the  sea; 
Their  minds  a  while  to  thought  they  gave 
And  counselled  how  to  cross  the  wave. 
At  length,  with  logs  together  laid, 
A  mighty  raft  the  brothers  made. 
Then  dry  bamboos  across  were  tied, 
And  grass  was  spread  from  side  to  side. 
And  the  great  hero  Lakshman  brought 
Cane  and  Rose-Apple  boughs.and  wrought, 
Trimming  the  branches  smooth  and  neat, 
For  Sita's  use  a  pleasant  .seat. 
And  Kama  placed  thereon  his  dame 
Touched  with  a  momentary  shame, 
Resembling  in  her  glorious  mien 
All-thought-surpassing  Fortune's  Queen 
Then  Rama  hastened  to  dispose. 


1  Another  name  of  the  Jumna,  daughter 
of  the  Sun. 


Each  in  its  place,  the  skins  and  bows, 
And  by  the  fair  Videhan  laid 
The  coats,  the  ornaments,  and  spade. 
When  Sita  thus  was  set  on  board, 
And  all  their  gear  was  duly  stored, 
The  heroes,  each  with  vigorous  hand, 
Pushed  off  the  raft  and  left  the  land. 
When  half  its  wav  the  raft  had  made, 
Thus  Sita  to  Kalindi  prayed: 
*  Goddess,  whose  flood  I  traverse  now, 
Grant  that  my  lord  may  keep  his  vow. 
For  thee  shall  bleed  a  thousand  kine, 
A  hundred  jars  shall  pour  their  wine, 
When  Rama  sees  that  town  again 
Where  old  Ikshvaku's  children  reign.' 

Thus  to  Kalindi's  stream  she  sued 
And  prayed  in  suppliant  attitude. 
Then  to  the  river's  bank  the  dame, 
Fervent  in  supplication,  came. 
They  left  the  raft  that  brought  them  o'er, 
And  the  thick  wood  that  clothed  the  shore, 
And  to  the  Fig-tree  £yama  made 
Their  way,  so  cool  with  verdant  shade. 
Then  Sita  viewed  that  best  of  trees, 
And  reverent  spake  in  words  like  these: 
'  Hail, hail,  0  mighty  tree  !  Allow 
My  husband  to  complete  his  vow; 
Let  us  returning,  I  entreat, 
Kausalyft  and  Sumitra  meet.' 
Then  with  her  hands  together  placed 
Around  the  tree  she  duly  paced. 
When  Rama  saw  his  blameless  spouse 
A  suppliant  under  holy  boughs, 
The  gentle  darling  of  his  heart, 
He  thus  to  Lakshman  spake  apart : 
'  Brother,  by  thee  pur  way  be  led; 
Let  Sita  close  behind  thee  tread  : 
I,  best  of  men,  will  grasp  my  bow, 
And  hindmost  of  the  three  will  go. 
What  fruits  soe'er  her  fancy  take, 
Or  flowers  half  hidden  in  the  brake, 
For  Janak's  child  forget  not  thou 
To  gather  from  the  brake  or  bough.' 

Thus  on  they  fared.    The  tender  dame 
Asknd  Rjima,  as  they  walked,  the  name 
Of  every  shrub  that  blossoms  bore, 
Creeper,  and  tree  unseen  before  : 
And  Lakshman  fetched,  at  Sita's  prayer, 
Boughs  of  each  tree  with  clusters  fair. 
Then  Janak's  daughter  joyed  to  see 
The  sand-discoloured  river  flee, 
Where  the  glad  cry  of  many  :i  bird, 
The  saras  and  the  swan,  was  heard, 
A  league  the  brothers  travelled  through 
The  forest:  noble  game  they  slew  : 
Beneath  the  trees  their  meal  they  dressed 
And  sat  them  down  to  eat  and  rest. 
A  while  in  that  delightful  shade 
Where  elephants  unnumbered  strayed, 
Where  peacocks  screamed  and  monkeys 
played, 


Canto  LVJ. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


161 


They  wandered  with  delight. 
Then  by  the  river's  side  they  found 
A  pleasant  spot  of  level  ground, 
Where  all  was  smooth  and  fair  around, 

Their  lodging  for  the  night. 


CANTO  LVI. 
CHITRAKUTA. 


Then  Rama,  when  the  morning  rose, 
Called  Lakshman  gently  from  repose  : 
'  Awake,  the  plea'saut  voices  hear 
Of  forest  birds  that  warble  near. 
Scourge  of  thy  foes,  no  longer  stay ; 
The  hour  is  come  to  speed  away.' 

The  slumbering  prince  unclosed  his  eyes 
When  thus  his  brother  bade  him  rise, 
Compelling,  at  the  timely  cry, 
Fatigue,  and  sleep,  and  rest  to  fly. 
The  brothers  rose  and  Sita  too  ; 
Pure  water  from  the  stream  they  drew, 
Paid  morning  rites,  then  followed  still 
The  road  to  Chitrakuta's  hill. 
Then  Rama  as  he  took  the  road 
WithLakshman,whilethemorning,glowed, 
To  the  Videhan  lady  cried, 
Sita  the  fair,  the  lotus-eyed; 
'  Look  round  thee,  dear  ;  each  flowery  tree 
Touched  with  the  fire  of  morning  see : 
The  Kinsuk,  now  the  Frosts  are  tied, — 
How  glorious  with  his  wreaths  of  red! 
The  Bel-trees  see,  so  loved  of  men, 
Hanging  their  boughs  in  every  glen. 
O'erburthened  with  their  fruit  and  flowers: 
A  plenteous  store  of  food  is  ours. 
See,  Lakshman,  in  the  leafy  trees, 
Where'er  they  make  their  home, 
Down  hangs,  the  work  of  labouring  bees 

The  ponderous  honeycomb. 
In  the  fair  wood  before  us  spread 

The  startled  wild-cock  cries  : 
Hark,  where  the  flowers  are  soft  to  tread, 

The  peacock's  voice  replies. 
Where  elephants  are  roaming  free, 
And  sweet  birds'  songs  are  loud, 
The  glorious  Chitrakuta  see : 
His  peaks  are  in  the  cloud. 
On  fair  smooth  ground  he  stands  dis- 
played, 

Begirt  by  many  a  tree  : 
O  brother,  in  that  holy  shade 
H6vv  happy  shall  we  be  P 


*  We  have  often  looked  on  that  green 
hill :  it  is  the  holiest  spot  of  that  sect  of 
the  Hindu  faith  who  devote  them  selves  to 
this  incarnation  of  Vishnu.  The  whole 
neighbourhood  is  llama's  country.  Every 


Then  Rama,  Lakshman,  Sita,  each 

Spoke  raising  suppliant  hands  this  speech 

To  him,  in  woodland  dwelling  met, 

Valmiki,  ancient  anchoret : 

*O  Saint,  this  mountain  takes  the  mind, 

With  creepers,  trees  of  every  kind, 

With  fruit  and  roots  abounding  thus, 

A  pleasant  life  it  offers  us  : 

Here  for  a  while  we  fain  would  stay, 

And  pass  a  season  blithe  and  gay.' 

Then  the  great  saint,  in  duty  trained, 
With  honour  gladly  entertained  : 
He  gave  his  guests  a  welcome  fair, 
And  bade  them  sit  and  rest  them  there. 
Kama  of  mighty  arm  and  chest 
His  faithful  Lakshman  then  addressed  :  , 
'  Brother,  bring  hither 'from  the  wood 
Selected  timber  strong  and  good, 
And  build  therewith  a  little  cot ; 
My  heart  rejoices  in  the  spot 
That  lies  beneath  the  mountain's  side, 
Remote,  with  water  well  supplied.' 

Suinitra's  son  his  words  obeyed, 
Brought  many  a  tree,  and  deftly  made, 
With  branches  in  the  forest  cut, 
As  Rama  bade,  a  leafy  hut. 
Then  Rama,  when  the  cottage  stood 
Fair,  firmly  built,  and  walled  with  wood, 
To  Lakshman  spake,  whose  eager  mind 
To  do  his  brother's  will  inclined  : 
'  Now,  Lakshman  as  our  cot  is  made, 
Must  sacrifice  be  duly  paid 
By  us,  for  lengthened  life  who  hope, 
With  venison  of  the  antelope. 
Away,  O  bright-eyed  Lakshman,  speed: 
Struck  by  thy  bow  a  deer  must  bleed: 
As  Scripture  bids,  we  must  not  slight 
The  duty  that  commands  the  rite.' 

Lakshman,  the  chief  whose  arrows  laid 
His  foemen  low,  his  word  obeyed  ; 
And  Rama  thus  again  addressed 
The  swift  performer  of  his  nest : 
•  Prepare  the  venison  thou  hast  shot, 
To  sacrifice  for  this  our  cot. 
Haste*  brother  dear,  for  this  the  hour, 
And  this  the  day  of  certain  power.' 
Then  glorious  Lakshman  took  the  buck 
His  arrow  in  the  wood  had  struck  ; 
Bearing  his  mighty  load  he  came, 
And  laid  it  in  the  kindled  flame. 


headland  has  some  legend,  every  cavern 
is  connected  with  his  name;  some  of  the 
wild  fruits  are  still  called  Sitdphal,  being 
the  reputed  food  of  the  exile.  Thousands 
and  thousands  annually  visit  the  spot,  and 
round  the  hill  is  a  raised  foot-path,  on 
which  the  devotee,  with  naked  feet,  treads 
full  of  pious  awe.'  Calcutta  Jtteviery. 
Vol,  XXIII. 


142 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  II 


Soon  as  he  saw  the  meat  was  done, 

And  that  the  juices  ceased  to  run 

From  the  broiled  carcass,  Lakshraan  then 

Spoke  thus  to  Rama  best  of  men ; 

*  The  carcass  of  the  buck,  entire, 

Is  ready  dressed  upon  the  lire. 

Now  be  the  sacred  rites  begun 

To  please  the  God,  thou  godlike  one.* 

Rama  the  good,  in  ritual  trained, 
Pure  from  the  bath,   with  thoughts  re- 
strained, 

Hasted  those  verses  to  repeat 
Which  make  the  sacrifice  complete, 
The  hosts  celestial  came  in  view, 
And  Rama  to  the  cot  withdrew, 
While  a  sweet  sense  of  rapture  stole 
Through  the  unequalled  hero's  soul. 
He  paid  the  Visvedevas'1  due, 
And  Rudra's  right,  and  Vishnu's  too, 
Nor  wonted  blessings,  to  protect 
Their  new-built  home,  did  he  neglect. 
With  voice  repressed  he  breathed  the  prayer, 
Bathed  duly  in  the  river  fair, 
And  gave  good  offerings  that  remove 
The  stain  of  sin,  as  texts  approve. 
And  many  an  altar  there  he  made, 
And  shrines,  to  suit  the  holy  shade, 
All  decked  with  woodland  chap  lets  sweet, 
And  fruit  and  roots  and  roasted  meat, 
With  muttered  prayer,  as  texts  require, 
Water,  and  grass  and  wood  and  tire. 
So  Rama,  Lakshman,  Sita  paid 
Their  offerings  to  each  God  and  shade, 
And  entered  then  their  pleasant  cot 
That  bore  fair  signs  of  happy  lot. 
They  entered,  the  illustrious  three, 
The  well-set  cottage,  fair  to  see, 
Hoofed  with  the  leaves  of  many  a  tree, 

And  fenced  from  wind  and  rain  : 
So,  at  their  Father  Brahma's  call, 
The  Gods  of  heaven,  assembling  all, 
To  their  own  glorious  council  hall 

Advance  in  shining  train. 
So,  resting  on  that  lovely  hill, 
Near  the  fair  lily-covered  rill, 

The  happy  prince  forgot, 
Surrounded  by  the  birds  and  deer, 
The  woe,  the  longing,  and  the  fear 

That  gloom  the  exile's  lot. 

CANTO  LVII. 


SO  MANTRA'S  RETURN. 

When  Rama  reached  the  southern  bank, 
King  Guha's  heart  with  sorrow  sank  : 

1  Deities  of  a  particular  class  in  which 
five  or  ten  are  enumerated.  They  are 
worshipped  particularly  at  the  funeral 
obsequies  in  honour  of  deceased  progenitors, 


He  with  Sumantra  talked,  and  spent 
With  his  deep  sorrow,  homeward  went. 
Sumantra,  as  the  king  decreed, 
Yoked  to  the  car  each  noble  steed, 
And  to  Ayodhya's  city  sped 
With  his  sad  heart  disquieted. 
On  lake  and  brook  and  scented  grove 
His  glances  fell,  as  on  he  drove  : 
City  and  village  came  in  view 
As  o'er  the  road  his  coursers  flew. 
On  the  third  day  the  charioteer, 
When  now  the  hour  of  night  was  near, 
Came  to  Ayodhya's  gate,  and  found 
The  city  all  in  sorrow  drowned. 
To  him,  in  spirit  quite  cast  down, 
Forsaken  seemed  the  silent  town, 
And  by  the  rush  of  grief  oppressed 
He  pondered  in  his  mournful  breast : 
4  Is  all  Ayodhya  burnt  with  grief, 
Steed,  elephant,  and  man,  and  chief  ? 
Does  her  loved  Rama's  exile  so 
Afflict  her  with  the  fires  of  woe  ? ' 
Thus  as  he  mused,  his  steeds  flew  fast, 
And  swiftly  through  the  gate  he  passed. 
On  drove  the  charioteer,  and  then 
In  hundreds,  yea  in  thousands,  men 
Ran  to  the  car  from  every  side, 
And,  '  Rama,  where  is  Rama?'  cried. 
Sumantra  said:  'My  chariot  bore 
The  duteous  prince  to  Ganga's  shore  ; 
I  left  him  there  at  his  behest, 
And  homeward  to  Ayodhya  pressed.1 
Soon  as  the  anxious  people  knew 
That  he  was  o'er  the  flood,  they  drew 
Deep  sighs,  and  crying,  Rama"!  all 
Wailed,  and  big  tears  began  to  fall. 
He  heard  the  mournful  words  prolonged, 
As  here  and  there  the  people  thronged  : 
'Woe,  woe  for  us,  forlorn,  undone, 
No  more  to  look  on  Raghu's  son  ! 
His  like  again  we  ne'er  shall  see, 
Of  heart  so  true,  of  hand  so  free, 
In  gifts,  in  gatherings  for  debate. 
When  marriage  pomps  we  celebrate. 
What  should  we  do  ?  What  earthly  thing 
Can  rest,  or  hope,  or  pleasure  bring  ? ' 

Thus  the  sad  town,  which  Rama  kept 
As  a  kind  father,  wailed  and  wept. 
Each  mansion,  as  the  car  went  by, 
Sent  forth  a  loud  and  bitter  cry, 
As  to  the  window  every  dame, 
Mourning  for  banished  Rama,  came. 
As  his  sad  eyes  with  tears  o'erflowed, 
He  sped  along  the  royal  road 
To  Dasaratha's  high  abode. 
There  leaping  down  his  car  he  stayed  ; 
Within  the  gates  his  way  he  made  ; 
Through  seven  broad  courts  he  onward  hied 
Where  people  thronged  on  every  side. 
From  each  high  terrace,  wild  with  woe, 
The  royal  ladies  flocked  below  ; 


Canto  LVIIL 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


He  heard  them  talk  in  gentle  tone, 
As  each  for  Rama  made  her  moan  : 
'  What  will  the  charioteer  reply- 
To  Queen  Kausalya's  eager  cry  ? 
With  Rama  from  the  gates  he  went ; 
Homeward  alone,  his  steps  are  bent. 
Hard  is  a  life  with  woe  distressed, 
But  difficult  to  win  is  rest, 
If,  when  her  son  is  banished,  still 
She  lives  beneath  her  load  of  ill.' 

Such  was  the  speech  Sumantra  heard 
From  them  whom  grief  unfeigned  had 

stirred. 

As  fires  of  anguish  burnt  him  through, 
Swift  to  the  monarch's  hall  he  drew, 
Past  the  eighth  court :  there  met  his  sight, 
The  sovereign  in  his  palace-  bright, 
Still  weeping  for  his  son,  forlorn. 
Pale,  faint,  and  all  with  sorrow  worn. 
As  there  he  sat,  Sumantra  bent 
And  did  obeisance  reverent, 
And  to  the  king  repeated  o'er 
The  message  he  from  Rama  bore. 
The  monarch  heard,  and  well-nigh  brake 
His  heart,  but  yet  no  word  he  spake  : 
Fainting  to  earth  he  fell,  and  dumb, 
By  grief  for  Rama  overcome. 
Rang  through  the  hall  a  startling  cry, 
And  women's  arms  were  tossed  on  high, 
When,  with  his  senses  all  astray, 
Upon  the  ground  the  monarch  lay. 
Kausalyd,  with  Sumitra's  aid, 
Raised  from  the  ground  her  lord  dismayed  : 
'  Sire,  of  high  fate,'  she  cried,  O,  why 
Dost  thou  no  single  word  reply 
To  Rama's  messenger  who  brings 
News  of  his  painful  wanderings  ? 
The  great  injustice  done,  art  thou 
Shame-stricken  for  thy  conduct  no\y  ? 
13-ise  up,  and  do  thy  part  :  bestow 
Comfort  and  help  in  this  our  woe. 
Speak  freely,  King  ;  dismiss  thy  fear, 
For  Queen  Kaikeyi  stands  not  near, 
Afraid  of  whom  thpu  wouldst  not  seek 
Tidings  of  Rama  :  freely  speak.' 

When  the  sad  queen  had  ended  so, 
She  sank,  insatiate  in  her  woe, 
'And  prostrate  lay  upon  the  ground, 
While  her  faint  voice  by  sobs  was  drowned. 
When  all  the  ladies  in  despair 
Saw  Queen  Kausalya  wailing  there, 
And  the  poor  king  oppressed  with  pain, 
They  flocked  around  and  wept  again. 

CANTO  LVIII. 


RAMA'S  MESSAGE. 

The  king  a  while  had  senseless  lain, 
W&en  care  brought  memory  back  again. 


Then  straight  he  called,  the  news  to  hear 
Of  Rama,  for  the  charioteer. 
With  reverent  hand  to  hand  applied 
He  waited  by  the  old  man's  side, 
Whose  mind  with  anguish  was  distraught 
Like  a  great  elephant  newly  caught. 
The  king  with  bitter  pain  distressed 
The  faithful  charioteer  addressed, 
Who,  sad  of  mien,  with  flooded  eye, 
And  dust  upon  his  limbs,  stood  by : 
'  Where  will  be  Rama's  dwelling  now 
At  some  tree's  foot,  beneath  the  bough  ; 
Ah,  what  will  be  the  exile's  food. 
Bred  up  with  kind  solicitude  ? 
Can  he,  long  lapped  in  pleasant  rest, 
Unmeet  for  pain,  by  pain  oppressed, 
Son  of  earth  s  king,  his  sad  night  spend 
Earth-couched,  as  one  that  has  no  friend  f 
Behind  him,  when  abroad  he  sped, 
Cars,  elephant,  and  foot  were  led : 
Then  how  shall  Rama  dwell  afar 
In  the  wild  woods  where  no  men  are  ? 
How,  tell  me,  did  the  princes  there, 
With  Sita  good  and  soft  and  fair, 
Alighting  from  the  chariot,  tread 
The  forest  wilds  around  them  spread  ? 
A  happy  lot  is  thine,  I  ween, 
Whose  eyes  my  two  dear  sons  have  seen 
Seeking  on  foot  the  forest  shade, 
Like  the  bright  Twins  to  view  displayed, 
The  heavenly  Asvins,  when  they  seek 
The  woods  that  hang  'neath  Mandar's  peak, 
What  words,  Sumantra,  quickly  tell, 
From  Rama,  l,akshman.  Sita,  fell  ? 
How  in  the  wood  did  Rama  eat  ? 
What  was  his  bed,  and  what  his  seat  ? 
Full  answer  to  my  questions  give, 
For  1  on  thy  replies  shall  live, 
As  with  the  saints  Yay^ti  held 
ISweet  converse,  from  the  skies  expelled.' 

Urge4  by  the  lord  of  men  to  speak, 
Whose  sobbing  voice  came  faint  and  weak, 
Thus  he,  while  tears  his  utterance  broke, 
In  answer  to  the  monarch  spoke : 
'  Hear  then  the  words  that  I{,ama  saM, 
Resolved  in  duty's  path  to  tread. 
Joining  his  hands,  his  head  he  bent. 
And  gave  this  message,  reve.rent ; 
'  Sumantra,  to  my  father  go, 
Whose  lofty  mind  ail  people  know  ; 
Bow  down  before  him,  as  is  meet, 
And  in  my  stead  salute  his  feet. 
Then  to  the  queen  my  mother  bend, 
And  give  the  greeting  that  I  send  : 
Ne'er  may  her  steps  from  duty  err, 
And  may  it  still  be  well  with  her. 
And  add  this  word  :  '  O  Queen,  pursue, 
Thy  vows  with  faithful  heart  and  true  • 
And  ever  at  due  season  turn 
Where  holy  fires  of  worship  burn. 
And,  lady,  on  our  lord  bestpw 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


Such  honour  as  to  Gods  we  owe. 
Be  kind  to  every  queen  :  let  pride 
And  thought  of  self  be  cast  aside. 
In  the  king's  fond  opinion  raise 
Kaikeyi,  by  respect  and  praise. 
Let  the  young  Bharat  ever  be 
Loved,  honoured  as  the  king  by  thee  : 
Thy  king- ward  duty  ne'er  forget: 
High  over  all  are  monarchs  set.' 

And.  Bharat,  too,  for  me  address  : 
Pray  that  all  health  his  life  may  bless. 
Let  every  royal  lady  share, 
As  justice  bids,  his  love  and  care. 
Say  to  the  strong-armed  chief  who  brings 
Joy  to  Iksvaku's  line  of  kings  : 
*  As  ruling  prince  thy  care  be  shown 
Of  him,  our  sire,  who  holds  the  throne, 
Stricken  in  years  he  feels  their  weight ; 
But  leave  him  in  his  royal  state. 
As  regent  heir  content  thee  still, 
Submissive  to  thy  father's  will.' 
Rama  again  his  charge  renewed, 
As  the  hot  flood  his  cheek  bedewed  : 
'  Hold  as  thine  own  my  mother  dear 
Who  drops  for  me  the  longing  tear.' 
Then  Lakshman,  with  his  soul  on  fire, 
Spake  breathing  fast  these  words  of  ire : 
'  Sa)%  for  what  sin,  for  what  offence 
Was  royal  Rama  banished  thence  ? 
He  is  the  cause,  the  king  ;  poor  slave 
To  the  light  charge  Kaikeyi  gave. 
Let  right  or  wrong  the  motive  be, 
The  author  of  our  woe  is  he. 
Whether  the  exile  were  decreed 
Through  foolish  faith  or  guilty  greed, 
For  promises  or  empire,  still 
The  king  has  wrought  a  grievous  ill. 
Grant  that  the  Lord  of  all  saw  fit 
To  prompt  the  deed  and  sanction  it, 
In  Kama's  life  no  cause  I  see 
For  which  the  king  should  bid  him  flee. 
His  blinded  eyes  refused  to  scan 
The  guilt  and  folly  of  the  plan, 
And  from  the  weakness  of  the  king 
Here  and  hereafter  woe  shall  spring. 
!No  more  my  sire  :  the  ties  that  used 
To  bind  me  to  the  king  are  loosed. 
My  brother  Rama,  Raghu's  son, 
To  me  is  lord,  friend,  sire  in  one. 
The  love  of  men  how  can  he  win, 
Deserting,  by  the  cruel  sin, 
Their  joy,  whose  heart  is  swift  to  feel 
A  pleasure  in  the  people's  weal  ? 
Shall  he  whose  mandate  could  expel 
The  virtuous  Rama,  loved,  so  well, 
To  whom  his  subjects'  fond  hearts  cling— 
Shall  he  in  spite  of  them  be  king  ?' 

But  Janak's  child,  my  lord,  stood  by, 
And  oft  the  votaress  heaved  a  sigh. 
She  seemed  with  dull  and  wandering  sense, 
Beteath  a  spirit's  influence, 


The  noble  princess,  pained  with  woe 
Which  till  that  hour  she  ne'er  could  know, 
Tears  in  her  heavy  trouble  shed, 
But  not  a  word  to  me  she  said. 
She  raised  her  face  which  grief  had  dried, 
And  tenderly  her  husband  eyed, 
Gazed  on  him  as  he  turned  to  go 
While  tear  chased  tear  in  rapid  flow.' 

CANTO  LIX. 


DAgARATHA'S  LAMENT. 

As  thus  Sumantra,  best  of  peers, 
Told  his  sad  tale  with  many  tears, 
The  monarch  cried,  '  I  pray  thee,  tell 
At  length  again  what  there  befell.' 
Sumantra,  at  the  king's  behest, 
Striving  with  sobs  he  scarce  repressed, 
His  trembling  voice  at  last  controlled, 
And  thus  his  further  tidings  told  : 
'  Their  locks  in  votive  coils  they  wound, 
Their  coats  of  bark  upon  them  bound, 
To  Ganga's  farther  shore  they  went, 
Thence  to  Prayag  their  steps  were  bent. 
I  saw  that  Lakshman  walked  ahead 
To  guard  the  path  the  two  should  tread. 
So  far  I  saw,  no  more  could  learn, 
Forced  by  the  hero  to  return. 
Retracing  slow  my  homeward  course, 
Scarce  could  I  move  each  stubborn  horse: 
Shedding  hot  tears  of  grief  he  stood 
When  Rama  turned  him  to  the  wood.1 
As  the  two  princes  parted  thence 
I  raised  my  hands  in  reverence, 
Mounted  my  ready  car,  and  bore 
The  grief  that  stung  me  to  the  core. 
With  Guha  all  that  day  I  stayed, 
Still  by  the  earnest  hope  delayed 
That  Rama,  ere  the  time  should  end, 
Some  message  from  the  wood  might  send. 
Thy  realms,  great  Monarch,  mourn  the 

blow, 
And  sympathize  with  Rama's  woe. 


1  *  So  in  Homer  the  horses  of  Achilles 
lamented  with  many  bitter  tears  the  death 
of  Patroclus  slain  by  Hector  : 

8'  Aia/aSao,  fia^rig   airavt- 


KXatov,    £?raS?7     TT/owra 


'Ev  Kovl'gffi  Trecrovroc  vcf^  ' 


ILIAD.  XVII,  426. 
Ancient    poesy    frequently    associated 
nature  with  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  man,' 
GORBESIO. 


Canto  LX. 


THE  RAM  AT  AN. 


165 


Each  withering1  tree  hangs  low  his  head, 
And  shoot,  and  bud,  and  flower  are  dead. 
Dried  are  the  floods  that  wont  to  fill 
The  lake,  the  river,  and  the  rill. 
Drear  is  each  grove  and  garden  now, 
Dry  every  blossom  on  the  bough. 
Each  beast  is  still,  no  serpents  crawl: 
A  lethargy  of  woe  on  all. 
The  very  wood  is  silent :  crushed 
With  grief  for  Rama,  all  is  hushed. 
Fair  blossoms  from  the  water  born, 
Gay  garlands  that  the  earth  adorn, 
And  every  fruit  that  gleams  like  gold, 
Have  lost  the  scent  that  charmed  of  old, 
Empty  is  every  grove  I  see, 
Or  birds  sit  pensive  on  the  tree. 
Where'er  I  look,  its  beauty  o'er, 
The  pleasance  charms  not  as  before. 
I  drove  through  fair  Ayodhya's  street : 
None  flew  with  joy  the  car  to  meet. 
They  saw  that  Rama  was  not  there, 
And  turned  them  sighing  in  despair, 
The  people  in  the  royal  way 
Wept  tears  of  bitter  grief,  when  they 
Beheld  me  coming,  from  afar, 
No  Rama  with  me  in  the  car. 
From  palace  roof  and  turret  high 
Each  woman  bent  her  eager  eye  ; 
She  looked  for  Rama,  but  in  vain  ; 
Gazed  on  the  car  and  shrieked  for  pain. 
Their  long  clear  eyes  with  sorrow  drowned 
They,  when  this  common  grief  was  found, 
Looked  each  on  other,  friend  and  foe, 
I  &  sympathy  of  levelling  woe  : 
No  shade  of  difference  between 
Foe,  friend,  or  neutral,  there  was  seen, 
Without  a  joy,  her  bosom  rent 
With  grief  for  Rama's  banishment, 
Ayodhya  like  the  queen  appears 
Who  mourns  her  son  with  many  tears.' 
He  ended  :  and  the  king,  distressed, 
With  sobbing  voice  that  lord  addressed: 
'Ah  me,  by  false  Kaikeyi  led, 
Of  evil  race,  to  evil  bred, 
I  took  no  counsel  of  the  sage, 
Nor  sought  advice  from  skill  and  age. 
I  asked  no  lord  his  aid  to  lend, 
I  called  no  citizen  or  friend. 
Rash  was  my  deed,  bereft  of  sense, 
Slave  to  a  woman's  influence. 
Surely,  my  lord,  a  woe  so  great 
Falls  on  us  by  the  will  of  Fate  ; 
It  lays  the  house  of  Raghu  lo\v, 
For  Destiny  will  have  it  so. 
I  pray  tiiee,  if  I  e'er  have  done 
An  act  to  please  thee,  yea,  but  one, 
Fly,  fly,  and  Rama  homeward  lead  : 
My  life,  departing,  counsels  speed. 
Fly,  ere  the  power  to  bid  I  lack, 
Fly  to  the  wood  :  bring  Rama  back, 
I  cannot  live  for  even  one 


Short  hour  bereaved  of  my  son. 

But  ah,  the  prince,  whose  arms  are  strong, 

Has  journeyed  far :  the  way  is  long ; 

Me,  me  upon  the  chariot  place, 

And  let  me  look  on  Rama's  face. 

Ah  me,  my  son,  mine  eldest-born, 

Where  roams  he  in  the  wood  forlorn, 

The  wielder  of  the  mighty  bow, 

Whose  shoulders  like  the  lion's  show  ? 

O,  ere  the  light  of  life  be  dim, 

Take  me  to  Sita  and  to  him. 

O  Rama,  Lakshman,  and  O  thou 

Dear  Sita,  constant  to  thy  vow, 

Beloved  ones,  you  cannot  know 

That  I  am  dying  of  my  woe.' 

The  king  to  bitter  grief  a  prey, 
That  drove  each  wandering  sense  away, 
Sunk  in  affliction's  sea.  too  wide 
To  traverse,  in  his  anguish  cried  : 
*  Hard,  hard  to  pass,  my  Queen,  this  sea 
Of  sorrow  raging  over  me  : 
No  Rama  near  to  soothe  mine  eye, 
Plunged  in  its  lowest  deeps  I  lie. 
Sorrow  for  Rama  swells  the  tide, 
And  Sita's  absence  makes  it  wide: 
My  tears  its  foamy  flood  distain, 
Made  billowy  by  my  sighs  of  pain: 
My  cries  its  roar,  the  arms  I  throw 
About  me  are  the  tish  below. 
Kaikeyi  is  the  lire  that  feeds 
Beneath:  my  hair  the  tangled  weeds : 
Its  source  the  tears  for  Rama  shed  : 
The  hump-back's  words  its  monsters  dread : 
The  boon  I  gave  the  wretch  its  shore, 
Till  Rama's  banishment  be  o'er.1 

Ah  me,  that  I  should  long  to  set 
My  eager  eyes  to-day 

On  Raghu's  son,  and  he  be  yet 
With  Lakshman  far  away  1' 

Thus  he  of  lofty  glory  wailed, 
And  vsank  upon  the  bed. 

Beneath  the  woe  his  spirit  failed, 
And  all  his  senses  fled, 

CANTO  LX. 


KAIJgALYAf  CONSOLED. 

As  Queen  Kausalya,  trembling  much, 
As  blighted  by  a  goblin's  touch, 
Still  lying  prostrate,  half  awoke 
To  consciousness,  'twas  thus  she  spoke  : 
'  Bear  me  away,  Sumantra,  far, 
Where  Rama,  Sita,  Lakshman  are. 
Bereft  of  them  I  have  no  power 
To  linger  on  a  single  hour. 


1  The  lines  containing  this  heap  of  forced 
metaphors  are  marked  as  spurious  by 
Schlegel. 


163 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  II. 


Again,  I  pray,  thy  steps  retrace, 
And  me  in  Dandak  forest  place, 
For  after  them  1  needs  must  go, 
Or  sink  to  Yama's  realms  below.* 

His  utterance  choked  by  tears  that  rolled 
Down  from  their  fountains  uncontrolled, 
With  suppliant  hands  the  charioteer 
Thus  spake,  the  lady's  heart  to  cheer: 
*  Dismiss  thy  grief,  despair,  and  dread 
That  tills  thy  soul,  of  sorrow  bred, 
For  pain  and  anguish  thrown  aside, 
Will  Rama  in  the  wood  abide. 
And  Lakshman,  with  unfailing  care 
Will  guard  the*  feet  of  Rama  there, 
Earning,  with  governed  sense,  the  prize 
That  waits  on  duty  in  the  skies. 
And  Sita  in  the  wild  as  well 
As  in  her  own  dear  home  will  dwell ; 
To  Rama  all  her  heart  she  gives, 
-4nd  free  from  doubt  and  terror  lives. 
No  faintest  sign  of  care  or  woe 
The  features  of  the  lady  show : 
Methinks  Videha's  pride  was  made 
For  exile  in  the  forest  shade. 
E'en  as  of  old  she  used  to  rove 
Delighted  in  the  city's  grove, 
Thus,  even  thus  she  joys  to  tread 
The  woodlands  uninhabited. 
Like  a  young  child,  her  face  as  fair 
As  the  young  moon,  she  wanders  there. 
What  though  in  lonely  woods  she  stray 
Still  Rama  is  her  joy  and  stay  : 
AH  his  the  heart  no  sorrow  bends, 
Her  very  life  on  him  depends. 
For,  if  her  lord  she  might  not  see, 
Ayodhya  like  the  wood  would  be. 
She  bids  him,  as  she  roams,  declare 
The  names  of  towns  and  hamlets  there, 
Marks  various  trees  that  meet  her  eye, 
And  many  a  brook  that  hurries  by, 
And  Janak's  daughter  seems  to  roam 
One  lijttle  league  away  frOm  home    v 
When  Rama  or  his  brother  speaks 
And  gives  the  answer  that  she  seeks. 
This,  Lady,  I  remember  well; 
Nor  angry  words  have  I  to  tell: 
Reproaches  at  Kaikeyi  shot, 
Such,  Queen,  my  mind  remembers  not.' 
The  speech  when  Sita's  wrath  was  high, 
Sumantra  passed  in  silence  by, 
That  so  his  pleasant  words  might  cheer 
With  sweet  report  Kausalya's  ear. 
'  Her  moonlike  beauty  suffers  not 
Though  winds  be  rude  and  suns  be  hot : 
The  way,  the  danger,  and  the  toil 
Her  gentle  lustre  may  not  soil. 
Like  the  red  lily's  leafy  crown 
Or  as  the  fair  full  moon  looks  down? 
So  the  Videhan  lady's  face 
Still  shines  with  undiminished  grace, 
"What  if  the  borrowed  colours  throw 


O'er  her  fine  feet  no  rosy  glow, 

Still  with  their  natural  tints  they  spread 

A  lotus  glory  where  they  tread. 

In  sportive  grace  she  walks  the  ground 

And  sweet  her  chiming  anklets  sound. 

No  jewels  clasp  the  faultless  limb  : 

She  leaves  them  all  for  love  of  him. 

If  in  the  woods  her  gentle  eye 

A  lion  sees,  or  tiger  nigh, 

Or  elephant,  she  fears  no  ill 

For  Rama's  arm  supports  her  still. 

No  longer  be  their  fate  deplored, 

Nor  thine,  nor  that  of  KosaPs  lord, 

For  conduct  such  as  theirs  shall  buy 

Wide  glory  that  can  never  die. 

For  casting  grief  and  care  away, 

Delighting  in  the  forest,  they 

With  joyful  spirits,  blithe  and  gay, 

Set  forward  on  the  ancient  way 

Where  mighty  saints  have  led  : 
Their  highest  aim,  their  dearest  care 
To  keep  their  father's  honour  fair, 
Observing  still  the  oath  he  sware, 

They  roam,  on  wild  fruit  fed.' 
Thus  with  persuasive  art  he  tried 
To  turn  her  from  her  grief  aside, 

By  soothing  fancies  won. 
But  still  she  gave  her  sorrow  yent: 
'  Ah  Rama !,'  was  her  shrill  lament, 

'  J^y  love,  my  son,  my  son ! ' 

CANTO  LXI. 
KAU^ALYA'S  LAMENT, 

When,  best  of  all  who  give  delight, 
Her  Rama  wandered  far  from  sight, 
Kausalya  weeping,  sore  distressed. 
The  Idng  her  husband  thus  addressed: 
'  Thy  name,  O  Monarch,  far  and  wide 
Through  the  three  worlds  is  glprifjed  : 
Yet  Rama's  is  the  pitying  mind, 
His  speech  is  true,  his  heart  is  kind. 
How  \yill  thy  sops,  good  lord,  sustain. 
With  Sita  all  their  care  and  pain  ? 
How  in  the  wild  endure  distress, 
Nursed  in  the  lap  of  tenderness  ? 
How  will  the  dear  Videhan  bear 
The  heat  and  cold  when  wandering  there, 
Bred  in  the  bliss  of  princely  state, 
So  young  and  fair  and  delicate  ? 
The  largcreyed  lady,  wont  to  eat 
The  best  of  finely  seasoned  meat — 
How  will  she  now  her  life  sustain 
With  woodland  fare  of  self-sewn  grain  ? 
Will  she,  with  joys  encompassed  long, 
Who  loved  the  music  and  the  song, 
In  the  wild  wood  endure  to  hear 
The  ravening  lion's  voice  of  fear  ? 
Where  sleeps  my  strong- armed  hero,  where, 


Canto  LXIL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


167 


Like  Lord  Mahendra's  standard,  fair? 
Where  is,  by  Lakshman's  side,  his  bed, 
His  club-like  arm  beneath  his  head  ? 
When  shall  I  see  his  flower-like  eyes, 
And  face  that  with  the  lotus  vies, 
Feel  his  sweet  lily  breath,  and  view 
His  glorious  hair  and  lotus  hue  ? 
The  heart  within  my  breast,  I  feel, 
Is  adamant  or  hardest  steel, 
Or,  in  a  thousand  fragments  split, 
The  loss  of  him  had  shattered  it, 
When  those  I  love,  who  should  be  blest, 
Are  wandering  in  the  wood  distressed, 
Condemned  their  wretched  lives  to  lead 
In  exile,  by  thy  ruthless  deed. 
If,  when  the  fourteen  years  are  past, 
Kama  reseeks  his  home  at  last, 
I  think  not  Bharat  will  consent 
To  yield  the  wealth  and  government. 
At  funeral  feasts  some  mourners  deal 
To  kith  and  kin  the  solemn  meal, 
And  having  duly  fed  them  all 
Some  Brah mans  to  the  banquet  call. 
The  best  of  Bralimans,  good  and  wise, 
The  tardy  summoning  despise, 
And,  equal  to  the  Gods,  disdain 
Cups,  e'en  of  Amrit,  thus  to  drain, 
Nay  e'en  when  Brahmans  first  have  fed, 
They  loathe  the  meal  for  others  spread, 
And  from  the  leavings  turn  with  scorn, 
As  nulls  avoid  a  fractured  horn. 
So  Rama,  sovereign  lord  of  men, 
Will  spurn  the  sullied  kingship  then  : 
He.  born  the  eldest  and  the  best, 
His  younger's  leavings  will  detest, 
Turning  from  tasted  food  away, 
As  tigers  scorn  another's  prey. 
The  sacred  post  is  used  not  twice, 
Nor  elements,  in  sacrifice. 
But  once  the  sacred  grass  is  spread, 
But  once  with  oil  the  flame  is  fed  : 
So  Kama's  pride  will  ne'er  receive 
The  royal  power  which  others  leave, 
Like  wine  when  tasteless  dregs  are  left, 
Or  rites  of  Soma  juice  bereft. 
Be  sure  the  pride  of  Raghu's  race 
Will  never  stoop  to  such  disgrace  : 
The  lordly  lion  will  not  bear 
That  man  should  beard  him  in  his  lair. 
Were  all  the  worlds  against  him  ranged 
His  dauntless  soul  were  still  unchanged  : 
He,  dutiful,  in  duty  strong, 
Would  purge  the  impious  world  from  wrong, 
Could  net  the  hero,  brave  and  bold, 
The  archer,  with  his  shafts  of  gold, 
Burn  up  the  very  seas,  as  doom 
Will  in  the  end  all  life  consume  ? 
Of  lion's  might,  eyed  like  a  bull, 
A  prince  so  brave  and  beautiful, 
Thou  hast  with  wicked  hate  pursued. 
Like  sea-born  tribes  who  eat  their  brood, 
12 


If  thou,  O  Monarch,  hadst  but  known 
The  duty  all  the  Twice-born  own, . 
If  the  good  laws  had  touched  thy  mind, 
Which  sages  in  the  Scriptures  find, 
Tiiou  ne'er  hadst  driven  forth  to  pine 
This  brave,  this  duteous  son  of  thine, 
First  on  her  lord  the  wife  depends, 
Next  on  her  son  and  last  on  friends  : 
These  three  supports  in  life  has  she, 
And  not  a  fourth  for  her  may  be. 
Thy  heart,  0  King,  I  have  not  won  ; 
In  wild  woods  roams  my  banished  son  ; 
Far  are  my  friends  :  ah,  hapless  me, 
Quite  ruined  and  destroyed  by  thee.' 

CANTO  LXIL 
DA&ARATHA  CONSOLED. 

The  queen's  stern  speech  the  monarch  heard, 
As  rage  and  grief  her  bosom  stirred, 
And  by  his  anguish  sore  oppressed 
Reflected  in  his  secret  breast. 
Fainting  and  sad,  with  woe  distraught, 
He  wandered  in  a  maze  of  thought ; 
At  length  the  queller  of  the  foe 
Grew  conscious,  rallying  from  his  woe. 
When  consciousness  returned  anew 
Long  burning  sighs  the  monarch  drew. 
Again  immersed  in  thought  he  eyed 
Ivausalya  standing  by  his  side. 
Back  to  his  pondering  soul  was  brought 
The  direful  deed  his  hand  had  wrought, 
When,  guiltless  of  the  wrong  intent, 
His  arrow  at  a  sound  was  sent. 
Distracted  by  his  memory's  sting, 
And  mourning  for  his  son,  the  king 
To  two  consuming  griefs  a  prey, 
A  miserable  victim  lay. 
The  double  woe  devoured  him  fast, 
As  on  the  ground  his  eyes  he  cast, 
Joined  suppliant  hands,  her  heart  to  touch, 
And  spake  in  the  answer,  trembling  much  : 
'  Kausalya,  for  thy  grace  I  sue, 
Joining  these  hands  as  suppliants  do. 
Thou  e'en  to  foes  hast  ever  been 
A  gentle,  good,  and  loving  queen. 
Her  lord,  with  noble  virtues  graced, 
Her  lord,  by  lack  of  all  debased, 
Is  still  a  God  in  woman's  eyes, 
If  duty's  law  she  hold  and  prize. 
Thou,  who  the  right  hast  aye  pursued, 
Life's  changes  and  its  chances  viewed, 
Shouldst  never  launch,  though    sorrow- 
stirred, 
At  me  distressed,  one  bitter  word,' 

She  listened,  as  with  sorrow  faint 
He  murmured  forth  his  sad  complaint : 
Her  brimming  eyes  with  tears  ran  o'er, 
As  spouts  the  new-fallen  water  pour  ; 


168 


TEE  n  AM  AT  AN. 


Boole  II. 


His  suppliant  hands,  with  fear  dismayed 

She  gently  clasped  in  hers,  ana  laid, 

Like  a  fair  lotus,  on  her  head, 

And  faltering  in  her  trouble  said : 

'  Forgive  me  ;  at  thy  feet  I  lie, 

With  low  bent  head  to  thee  I  cry. 

By  thee  besought,  thy  guilty  dame 

Pardon  from  thee  can  scarcely  claim. 

She  merits  not  the  name  of  wife 

Who  cherishes  perpetual  strife 

With  her  own  husband  good  and  wise, 

Her  lord  both  here  and  in  the  skies. 

I  know  the  claims  of  duty  well, 

I  know  thy  lips  the  truth  must  tell. 

All  the  wild  words  I  rashly  spoke, 

Forth  from  my  heart,  through  anguish, 

broke  ; 

For  sorrow  bends  the  stoutest  soul. 
And  cancels  Scripture's  high  control. 
Yea,  sorrow's  might  all  else  overthrows 
The  strongest  and  the  worst  of  foes. 
'  Tis  thus  with  all :  we  keenly  feel, 
Yet  bear  the  blows  our  foemen  deal, 
But  when  a  slender  woe  assails 
The  manliest  spirit  bends  and  quails. 
The  fifth  long  night  has  now  begun 
Since  the  wild  woods  have  lodged  my  son: 
To  me  whose  joy  is  drowned  in  tears, 
Each  day  a  dreary  year  appears. 
While  all  my  thoughts  on  him  are  set 
Grief  at  my  heart  swells  wilder  yet : 
With  doubled  might  thus  Ocean  raves 
When  rushing  floods  increase  his  waves.' 

As  from  Kau&alya  reasoning  well 
The  gentle  words  of  wisdom  fell, 
The  sun  went  down  with  dying  flame, 
And  darkness  o'er  the  landscape  came. 
His  lady's  soothing  words  in  part 
Relieved  the  monarch's  aching  heart,, 
Who,  wearied  out  by  all  his  woes» 
Yielded  to  sleep  and  took  repose. 


CANTO  LXIIL 


THE  HERMIT'S  SON. 

But  soon  by  rankling  grief  oppressed 
The  king  awoke  from  troubled  rest, 
And  his  sad  heart  was  tried  again 
With  anxious  thought  where  all  was  pain. 
Kama  and  Lakshman's  mournful  fate 
On  Dasaratha,  good  and  great 
As  Indra,  pressed  with  crushing  weight, 
As  when  the  demon's  might  assails 
The  Sun-God,  and  his  glory  pales. 
Ere  yet  the  sixth  long  night  was  spent, 
Since  Rama  to  the  woods  was  sent, 
The  king  at  midnight  sadly  thought 
Of  the  old  crime  his  hand  had  wrought, 


And  thus  to  Queen  Kausalya  cried 
Who  still  for  Rama  moaned  and  sighed  : 
'If  thou  art  waking,  give,  I  pray, 
Attention  to  the  words  I  say. 
Whate'er  the  conduct  men  pursue, 
Be  good  or  ill  the  acts  they  do, 
Be  sure,  dear  Queen,  they  find  the  meed 
Of  wicked  or  of  virtuous  deed. 
A  heedless  child  we  call  the  man 
Whose  feeble  judgment  fails  to  scan 
The  weight  of  what  his  hands  may  do, 
Its  lightness,  fault,  and  merit  too. 
One  lays  the  Mango  garden  low, 
And  bids  the  gay  Palasas  grow  : 
Longing  for  fruit  their  bloom  he  sees, 
But   grieves  when  fruit  should  bend  the- 

trees. 

Cut  by  my  hand,  my  fruit-trees  fell, 
Palasa  trees  1  watered  well. 
My  hopes  this  foolish  heart  deceive, 
And  for  my  banished  son  I  grieve. 
Kausalya,  in  my  youthful  prime 
Armed  with  my  bow  1  wrought  the  crime, 
Proud  of  my  skill,  my  name  renowned, 
An  archer  prince  who  shoots  by  sound. 
The  deed  this  hand  unwitting  wrought 
This  misery  on  my  soul  has  brought, 
As  children  seize  the  deadly  cup 
And  blindly  drink  the  poison  up. 
As  the  unreasoning  man  may  be 
Charmed  with  the  gay  Palasa  tree,. 
I  unaware  have  reaped  the  fruit 
Of  joying  at  a  sound  to  shoot. 
As  regent  prince  I  shared  the  throne, 
Thou  wast  a  maid  to  me  unknown. 
The  early  Kain-time  duly  came, 
And  strengthened  love's  delicious  flame. 
The  sun  had  drained  the  earth  that  lay 
All  glowing  neath  the  summer  day, 
And  to  the  gloomy  clime  had  fled 
Where  dwell  the  spirits  of  the  dead.1 
The  fervent  heat  that  moment  ceased. 
The  darkening  clouds  each  hour  increased 
And  frogs  and  deer  and  peacocks  all 
Rejoiced  to  see  the  torrents  fall. 
Their  bright  wings  heavy  from  the  shower, 
The  birds,  new-bathed,  had    scarce  the 

power 

To  reach  the  branches  of  the  trees 
Whose  high   tops    swayed    beneath    the 

breeze. 

The  fallen  rain,  and  falling  still, 
Hung  like  a  sheet  on  every  hill, 
Till,  with  glad  deer,  each  flooded  steep 
Showed  glorious  as  the  mighty  deep. 
The  torrents  down  its  wooded  side 
Poured,  some  unstained,  while  others  dyed 


1  The  southern  region  is  the  abode  of 
Yama  the  Indian  Pluto,  and  of  departed 
spirits. 


Canto  LXI1I. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


169 


Gold,  ashy,  silver,  ochre,  bore 
The  tints  of  every  mountain  ore. 
In  that  sweet  time,  when  all  are  pleased, 
My  arrows  and  my  bow  I  seized  ; 
Keen  for  the  chase,  in  field  or  grove, 
Down  Sarju's  bank  my  car  I  drove. 
I  longed  with  all  my  lawless  will 
Some  elephant  by  night  to  kill, 
Some  buffalo  that  came  to  drink, 
Or  tiger,  at  the  river's  brink. 
When  all  around  was  dark  and  still, 
I  heard  a  pitcher  slowly  fill, 
And  thought,  obscured  in  deepest  shade, 
An  elephant  the  sound  had  made. 
I  drew  a  shaft  that  glittered  bright, 
Fell  as  a  serpent's  venomcd  bite; 
I  longed  to  lay  the  monster  dead, 
And  to  the  mark  my  arrow  sped. 
Then  in  the  calm  of  morning,  clear 
A  hermit's  wailing  smote  my  ear  : 
'  Ah  me,  ah  me,'  he  cried,  and  sank, 
Pierced  by  my  arrow,  on  the  bank. 
E'en  as  the  weapon  smote  his  side, 
I  heard  a  human  voice  that  cried  : 
'Why  lights  this  shaft  on  one  like  me, 
A  poor  and  harmless  devotee  ? 
I  came  by  night  to  fill  my  jar 
From  this  lone  stream  where  no  men  are. 
Ah,  who  this  deadly  shaft  has  shot  ? 
Whom  have  I  wronged,  and  knew  it  not? 
Why  should  a  boy  so  harmless  feel 
rl  he  vengeance  of  the  winged  steel  ? 
Or  who  should  slay  the  guiltless  son 
Of  hermit  sire  who  injures  none, 
Who  dwells  retired  in  woods,  and  there 
Supports  his  .life  on  woodland  fare  ? 
Ah  me,  ah  me,  why  am  1  slain, 
What  booty  will  the  murderer  gain? 
In  hermit  coils  I  bind  my  hair, 
Coats  made  of  skin  and  bark  I  wear. 
Ah,  who  the  cruel  deed  can  praise 
Whose  idle  toil  no  fruit  repays, 
As  impious  as  the  wretch's  crime 
Who  dares  his  master's  bed  to  climb  ? 
Nor  does  my  parting  spirit  grieve 
But  for  the  life  which  thus  I  leave : 
Alas,  my  mother  and  my  sire, — 
I  mourn  for  them  when  I  expire. 
Ah  me,  that  aged,  helpless  pair, 
Long  cherished  by  my  watchful  care, 
How  will  it  be  with  them  this  day 
When  to  the  Five  l   I  pass  away  ? 
Pierced  by  the  self -same  dart  we  die, 
Mine  aged  mother,  sire,  and  I. 
Whose  mighty  hand,  whose  lawless  mind 
Has  all  the  three  to  death  consigned  ?' 

When  I,  by  love  of  duty  stirred, 
That  touching  lamentation  heard, 


1  The  five  elements  of  which  the  body 
consists,  and  to  which  it  returns, 


Pierced  to  the  heart  by  sudden  woe, 

I  threw  to  earth  my  shafts  and  bow. 

My  heart  was  full  of  grief  and  dread 

As  swiftly  to  the  place  I  sped, 

Where,  by  my  arrow  wounded  sore, 

A  hermit  lay  on  Sarju's  shore. 

His  matted  hair  was  all  unbound, 

His  pitcher  empty  on  the  ground. 

And  by  the  fatal  arrow  pained, 

He  lay  with  dust  and  gore  distained. 

I  stood  confounded  and  amazed : 

His  dying  eyes  to  mine  he  raised, 

And  spoke  this  speech  in  accents  stern, 

As  though  his  light  my  soul  would  burn  : 

'  How  have  I  wronged  thee,  King,  that  I 

Struck  by  thy  mortal  arrow  die  ? 

The  wood  my  home,  this  jar  I  brought, 

And  water  for  my  parents  sought 

This  one  keen  shaft  that  strikes  me  through 

Slays  sire  and  aged  mother  too. 

Feeble  and  blind,  in  helpless  pain, 

They  wait  for  me  and  thirst  in  vain. 

They  with  parched  lips  their  pangs  must 

bear, 

And  hope  will  end  in  blank  despair. 
Ah  me,  there  seems  no  fruit  in  store 
For  holy  zeal  or  Scripture  lore, 
Or  else  ere  now  my  sire  would  know 
That  his  dear  son  is  lying  low. 
Yet,  if  my  mournful  fate  he  knew, 
What  could  his  arm  so  feeble  do  ? 
The  tree,  firm-rooted,  ne'er  may  be 
The  guardian  of  a  stricken  tree. 
Haste  to  my  father,  and  relate 
While  time  allows,  my  sudden  fate, 
Lest  he  consume  thee,  as  the  fire 
Burns  up  the  forest,  in  his  ire. 
This  little  path,  O  King,  pursue  : 
My  father's  cot  thou  soon  wilt  view. 
There  sue  for  pardon  to  the  sage. 
Lest  he  should  curse  thee  in  his  rage. 
First  from  the  wound  extract  the  dart 
That  kills  me  with  its  deadly  smart, 
E'en  as  the  flushed  impetuoiis  tide 
Eats  through  the  river's  yielding  side.1 

I  feared  to  draw  the  arrow  out, 
And  pondered  thus  in  painful  doubt ; 
4  Now  tortured  by  the  shaft  he  lies, 
But  if  I  draw  It 'forth  he  dies.' 
Helpless  I  stood,  faint,  sorely  grieved  : 
The  hermit's  son  my  thought  perceived ; 
As  one  o'ercome  by  direst  pain 
He  scarce  had  strength  to  speak  again, 
With  writhing  limb  and  struggling  breath, 
Nearer  and  ever  nearer  death  : 
4  My  senses  undisturbed  remain, 
And  fortitude  has  conquered  pain  : 
Now  from  one  fear  thy  soul  be  freed, 
Thy  hand  has  made  no  Brahman  bleed. 
Let  not  this  pang  thy  bosom  wring  : 
No  twice- born  youth  am  I,  0  King, 


170 


THE  RAMAYAM. 


Boole  11 


For  of  a  Vaisya  sire  I  came, 
Who  wedded  with  a  &ftdr&  dame.' 

These  words  the  boy  could  scarcely  say, 
As  tortured  by  the  shaft  he  lay, 
Twisting  his  helpless  body  round, 
Then  trembling  senseless  on  the  ground. 
Then  from  his  bleeding  side  I  drew 
The   rankling   shaft    that   pierced    him 

through. 

With  death's  last  fear  my  face  he  eyed, 
And,  rich  in  store  of  penance,  died."' 

CANTO  LXIV. 


DAgARATHA'S  DEATH. 

The  son  of  Raghu  to  his  queen 
Thus  far  described  the  unequalled  scene, 
And,  as  the  hermit's  death  he  rued, 
The  mournful  story  thus  renewed  : 
'The  deed  my  heedless  hand  had  wrought 
Perplexed  me  with  remorseful  thought, 
And  all  alone  I  pondered  still 
How  kindly  deed  might  salve  the  ill. 
The  pitcher  from  the  ground  I  took, 
And  filled  it  from  that  fairest  brook, 
Then,  by  the  path  the  hermit  showed, 
I  reached  his  sainted  sire's  abode. 
I  came,  I  saw  :  the  aged  pair, 
Feeble  and  blind,  were  sitting  there, 
Like  birds  with  clipped  wings,  side  by  side, 
With  none  their  helpless  steps  to  guide. 
Their  idle  hours  the  twain  beguiled 
With  talk  of  their  returning  child, 
And  still  the  cheering  hope  enjoyed, 
The  hope,  alas,  by  me  destroyed. 
Then  spoke  the  sage,  as  drawing  near 
The  sound  of  footsteps  reached  his  ear: 
*  Dear  son,  the  water  quickly  bring  ; 
Why  hast  thou  made  this  tarrying  ? 
Thy  mother  thirsts,  and  thou  hast  played, 
And  bathing  in  the  brook  delayed. 
She  weeps  because  thou  earnest  not ; 
Haste,  O  my  son,  within  the  cot. 
If  she  or  I  have  ever  done 
A  thing  to  pain  thee,  dearest  son, 
Dismiss  the  memory  from  thy  mind  : 
A  hermit  thou,  be  good  and  kind. 
On  thee  our  lives,  our  all,  depend  : 
Thou  art  thy  friendless  parents'  friend. 
The  eyeless  couple's  eye  art  thou  : 
Tli en  why  so  cold  and  silent  now  ? ' 

With  sobbing  voice  and  bosom  wrung 
I  scarce  could  move  my  faltering  tongue, 
And  with  my  spirit  tilled  with  dread 
I  looked  upon  the  sage,  and  said, 
While  mind,  and  sense,  and  nerve  I  strung 
To  fortify  my  trembling  tongue, 
And  let  the  aged  hermit  know 
Hia  son's  sad  fate,  my  fear  and  woe  ; 


1  High-minded^  Saint,  not  I  thy  child, 
A  warrior,  Dasaratha  styled. 
I  bear  a  grievous  sorrow's  weight 
Born  of  a  deed  which  good  men  hate. 
My  lord,  I  came  to  Sarju's  shore, 
And  in  my  hand  my  bow  I  bore 
For  elephant  or  beast  of  chase 
That  seeks  by  night  his  drinking  place. 
There  from  tiie  stream  a  sound  I  heard 
As  if  a  jar  the  water  stirred, 
An  elephant,  I  thought,  was  nigh  : 
I  aimed,  and  let  an  arrow  fly. 
Swift  to  the  place  I  made  my  way, 
And  there  a  wounded  hermit,  lay 
Gasping  for  breath  :  the  deadly  dart 
Stood  quivering  in  his  youthful  heart. 
I  hastened  near  with  pain  oppressed ; 
He  faltered  out  his  last  behest, 
And  quickly,  as  he  bade  me  do, 
From  his  pierced  side  the  shaft  I  drew. 
I  drew  the  arrow  from  the  rent, 
And  up  to  heaven  the  hermit  went. 
Lamenting,  as  from  earth  he  passed, 
His  aged  parents  to  the  last. 
Thus,  unaware,  the  deed  was  done: 
My  hand,  unwitting,  killed  thy  son. 
For  what  remains,  O,  let  me  win 
Thy  pardon  for  my  heedless  sin.' 

As  the  sad  tale  of  sin  I  told. 
The  hermit's  grief  was  uncontrolled  ; 
With  flooded  eyes,  and  son-row-  faint, 
Thus  spake  the  venerable  saint: 
I  stood  with  hand  to  hand  applied, 
And  listened  as  he  spoke  and  sighed  : 
'  If  thou,  0  King,  hadst  left  unsaid 
By  thine  own  tongue  this  tale  of  dread,     • 
Thy  head  for  hideous  guilt  accursed 
Had  in  a  thousand  pieces  burst. 
A  hermit's  blood  by  warrior  spilt, 
In  such  a  case,  with  purposed  guilt, 
Down  from  his  high  estate  would  bring 
Even  the  thunder's  mighty  King. 
And  he  a  dart  who  concious  sends 
Against  the  devotee  who  spends 
His  pure  life  by  the  law  of  Heaven — 
That  sinner's  head  will  split  in  seven. 
Thou  livest,  for  thy  heedless  hand 
Has  wrought  a  deed  thou  hast  not  planned, 
Else  thou  and  and  all  of  Raghu's  line 
Had  perished  by  this  act  of  thine. 
Now  guide  us.'  thus  the  hermit  said, 
'  Forth  to  the  spot  where  he  lies  dead. 
Guide  us,  this  day,  0  Monarch,  we 
For  the  last  time  our  son  would  see  : 
The  hermit  dress  of  skin  he  wore 
Kent  from  his  limbs  distained  with  gore  j 
His  senseless  body  lying  slain, 
His  soul  in  Yarna's  dark  domain.' 

Alone  the  mourning  pair  I  led, 
Their  souls  with  woe  disquieted, 
And  let  the  danie  and  hermit  lay 


anto 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Their  hands  upon  the  breathless  clay, 
The  fattier  touched  his  son,  and  pressed 
!he  body  to  his  aged  breast ; 
Then  falling  by  the  dead  boy's  side, 
He  lifted  up  his  voice,  and  cried: 

Hast  thoti  no  word,  my  child,  to  say  ? 
'No  greeting  for  thy  sire  to-day  ? 
Why  art  thou  angry,  darling  ?  why 
Wilt  thou  upon  the  cold  earth  lie  ? 
If  thou,  my  son.  art  wroth  with  me, 
Here,  duteous  child,  thy  mother  see. 
What!  no  embrace  for  me,  my  son  ? 
No  word  of  tender  love — not  one  ? 
Whose  gentle  voice,  so  soft  and  clear, 
Soothing  my  spirit,  shall  I  hear 
When  evening  comes,  with  accents  sweet 
Scripture  or  ancient  lore  repeat? 
Who,  having  fed  the  sacred  fire, 
And  duly  bathed,  as  texts  require, 
Will  cheer,  when  evening  rites  are  done, 
The  father  mourning  for  his  son? 
Who  will  the  daily  meal  provide 
For  the  poor  wretch  who  lacks  a  guide, 
Feeding  the  helpless  with  the  best 
Berries  and  roots,  like  some  dear  guest? 
How  can  these  hands  subsistence  find 
For  thy  poor  mother,  old  and  blind? 
The  wretched  votaress  how  sustain, 
Who  mourns  her  child  in  ceaseless  pain  ? 
Stay  yet  a  while,  niy  darling,  stay, 
Nor  Uy  to  Yama's  realm  to-day. 
To-morrow  I  thy  sire  and  she 
Who  bare  thee,  child,  will  go  with  thee.1 
Then  when  I  look  on  Yama,  I 
To  great  Vivasvat's  son  will  cry: 
'  Hear,  King  of  justice,  and  restore 
Our  child  to  feed  us,  I  implore. 
Lord  of  the  world,  of  mighty  fame, 
Faithful  and  just,  admit  my  claim, 
And  grant  this  single  boon  to  free 
My  soul  from  fear,  to  one  like  me.' 
Because,  my  son,  untouched  by  stain, 
By  sinful  ha-nds  thou  fallest  slain, 
Win,  through  thy  truth,  the  sphere  where 

those 

Who  die  by  hostile  darts  repose. 
Seek  the  blest  home  prepared  for  all 
The  valiant  who  in  battle  fall, 
Who  face  the  foe  and  scorn  to  yield, 
In  glory  dying  on  the  field. 
Rise  to  the  heaven  where  Dhundhumar 
And  Nahush,  mighty  heroes,  are, 
Where  Janamejay  arid  the  blest 
Dilipa,  Sagar,  Saivya,  rest: 

1  So  dying  York  cries  over  the  body  of 
Suffolk : 

*  Tarry,  dear  cousin  Suffolk  ! 
My  soul  shall  thine  keep  company  to  heaven 
Tarry,  sweet  soul,  for  mine,  then  fly  abreast.' 
King  Henry  F,  Act  IV.  6, 


Home  of  all  virtuous  spirits,  earned 
By  fervent  rites  and  Scripture  learned  : 
By  those  whose  sacred  tires  have  glowed, 
Whose  liberal  hands  have  fields  bestowed: 
By  givers  of  a  thousand  cows, 
By  lovers  of  one  faithful  spouse  : 
By  those  who  serve  their  masters  well, 
And  cast  away  this  earthly  shell. 
None  of  my  race  can  ever  know 
The  bitter  pain  of  lasting  woe. 
But  doomed  to  that  dire  fate  is  he 
Whose  guilty  hand  has  slaughtered  thee.' 

Thus  with  wild  tears  the  aged  saint 
Made  many  a  time  his  piteous  plaint, 
Then  with  his  wife  began  to  shed 
The  funeral  water  for  the  dead. 
But  in  a  shape  celestial  clad, 
Won  by  the  merits  of  the  lad, 
The  spirit  from  the  body  brake 
And  to  the  mourning  parents  spake : 
1  A  glorious  home  in  realms  above 
Rewards  my  care  and  filial  love. 
You,  honoured  parents,  soon  shall  be 
Partakers  of  that  home  with  me.' 

He  spake,  and  swiftly  mounting  high, 
With  Indra  near  him,  to  the  sky 
On  a  bright  car,  with  flame  that  glowed, 
Sublime  the  duteous  hermit  rode. 

The  father,  with  his  consort's  aid, 
The  funeral  rites  with  water  paid, 
And  thus  his  speech  to  me  renewed 
Who  stood  in  suppliant  attitude: 
'  Slay  me  this  day,  O,  slay  me,  King, 
For  death  no  longer  has  a  sting. 
Childless  am  I:  thy  dart  has  done 
To  death  my  dear,  my  only  son. 
Because  the  boy  I  loved  so  well 
Slain  by  thy  heedless  arrow  fell, 
My  curse  upon  thy  soul  shall  press 
With  bitter  woe  and  heaviness. 
I  mourn  a  slaughtered  child,  and  thou 
Shalt  feel  the  pangs  that  kill  me  now. 
Bereft  and  suffering  e'en  as  I, 
So  shalt  thou  mourn  thy  son,  and  die. 
Thy  hand  unwitting  dealt  the  blow 
That  laid  a  holy  hermit  low, 
And  distant,  therefore,  is  the  time 
When  thou  shalt  suffer  for  the  crime. 
The  hour  sh  all  come  when,  crushed  by  woea 
Like  these  I  feel,  thy  life  shall  close : 
A  debt  to  pay  in  after  days 
Like  his  the  priestly  fee  who  pays.' 

This  curse  on  me  the  hermit  laid, 
Nor  yet  his  tears  and  groans  were  stayed. 
Then  on  the  pire  their  bodies  cast 
The  pair;  and  straight  to  heaven  they 


As  in  sad  thought  I  pondered  long 
Back  to  my  memory  came  the  wrong 
Done  in  wild  youth,  O  lady  dear, 
When  'twas  my  boast  to  shoot  by  ear. 


172 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


The  deed  has  borne  the  fruit,  which  now 
Hangs  ripe  upon  the  bending  bough  : 
Thus  dainty  meats  the  palate  please, 
And  lure  the  weak  to  swift  disease. 
Now  on  my  soul  return  with  dread 
The  words  that  noble  hermit  said, 
That  I  for  a  dear  son  should  grieve, 
And  of  the  woe  my  life  should  leave.' 

Thus  spake  the  king  with  many  a  tear  ; 
Then  to  his  wife  he  cried  in  fear: 
4 1  cannot  see  thee,  love  ;  but  lay 
Thy  gentle  hand  in  mine,  I  pray. 
Ah  me,  if  Rama  touched  me  thus, 
If  once,  returning  home  to  us, 
He  bade  me  wealth  and  lordship  give, 
Then,  so  I  think,  my  soul  would  live. 
Unlike  myself,  unjust  and  mean 
Have  been  my  ways  with  him,  my  Queen, 
But  like  himself  is  all  that  he, 
My  noble  son,  has  done  to  me. 
His  son,  though  far  from  right  he  stray, 
What  prudent  sire  would  cast  away  ? 
What  banished  son  would  check  his  ire, 
Nor  speak  reproaches  of  his  sire  ? 
I  see  thee  not:  these  eyes  j^row  blind, 
And  memory  quits  my  troubled  mind. 
Angels  of  Death  are  round  me  :  they 
Summon  my  soul  with  speed  away. 
What  woe  more  grievous  can  there  be, 
That,  when  from  light  and  life  I  flee. 
I  may  not.  ere  I  part,  behold 
My  virtuous  Rama,  true  and  bold  ? 
Grief  for  my  son,  the  brave  and  true, 
Whose  joy  it  was  my  will -to  do, 
Dries  up  my  breath,  as  summer  dries 
The  last  drop  in  the  pool  that  lies, 
Not  men,  but  blessed  Gods,  are  they 
Whose  eyes  shall  see  his  face  that  day; 
See  him,  when  fourteen  years  are  past, 
With  earrings  decked  return  at  last. 
My  fainting  mind  forgets  to  think: 
Low  and  more  low  my  spirits  sink. 
Each  from  its  seat,  my  senses  steal: 
I  cannot  hear,  or  taste,  or  feel. 
This  lethargy  of  soul  o'ercornes 
Each  organ,  and  its  function  numbs: 
So  when  the  oil  begins  to  fail, 
The  torch's  rays  grow  faint  and  pale. 
This  flood  of  woe  caused  by  this  hand 
Destroys  me  helpless  and  unmanned, 
Resistless  as  the  floods  that  bore 
A  passage  through  the  river  shore. 
Ah  Kaghu's  son,  ah  mighty-armed, 
By  whom  my  cares    were   soothed  and 

charmed, 

My  son  in  whom  I  took  delight, 
Now^vanished  from  thy  father's  sight  1 
Kausalya  ah,  I  cannot  see  ; 
Sumitra,  gentle  devotee  ! 
Alas,  Kaikeyi,  cruel  dame, 
My  bitter  foe,  thy  father's  shame !' 


Kausalya  and  Sumitra  kept 
Their  watch  beside  him  as  he  wept. 
And  Dasaratha  moaned  and  sighed, 
And  grieving  for  his  darling  died. 

CANTO  LXV. 
THE  WOMEN'S  LAMENT. 

And  now  the  night  had  past  away, 
And  brightly  dawned  another  day: 
The  minstrels,  trained  to  play  and  sing, 
Flocked  to  the  chamber  of  the  king: 
Bards,  who  their  gayest  raiment  wore, 
And  heralds  famed  for  ancient  lore: 
And  singers,  with  their  songs  of  praise, 
Made  music  in  their  several  ways. 
There  as  they  poured  their  blessings  choice, 
And  hailed  their  king  with  hand  and  voice, 
Their  praises  with  a  swelling  roar 
Echoed  through  court  and  corridor. 
Then  as  the  bards  his  glory  sang, 
From  beaten  palms  loud  answer  rang, 
As  glad  applauders  clapped  their  hands, 
And  told  his  deeds  in  distant  lauds. 
The  swelling  concert  woke  a  throng 
Of  sleeping  birds  to  life  and  song : 
Some  in  the  branches  of  the  trees, 
Some  caged  in  halls  and  galleries. 
Nor  was  the  soft  string  music  mute; 
The  gentle  whisper  of  the  lute, 
And  blessings  sung  by  singers  skilled 
The  palace  of  the  monarcli  filled. 
Eunuchs  and  dames  of  life  unstain'ed, 
Each  in  the  arts  of  waiting  trained, 
Drew  near  attentive  as  before, 
And  crowded  to  the  chamber  door  : 
These  skilful  when  aud  how  to  shed 
The  lustral  stream  o'er  limb  and  head, 
Others  with  golden  ewers  stood 
Of  water  stained  with  sandal  wood. 
And  many  a  maid,  pure,  young,  and  fair, 
Her  load  of  early  offerings  bare, 
Cups  of  the  flood  which  all  revere, 
And  sacred  things,  and  toilet  gear. 
Each  several  thing  was  duly  brought 
As  rule  of  old  observance  taught, 
And  lucky  signs  on  each  impressed 
Stamped  it  the  fairest  and  the  best. 
There  anxious,  in  their  long  array, 
All  waited  till  the  shine  of  day  : 
But  when  the  king  nor  rose  nor  spoke, 
Doubt  and  alarm  within  them  woke. 
Forthwith  the  dames,  by  duty  led, 
Attendants  on  the  monarch's  bed, 
Within  the  royal  chamber  pressed 
To  wake  their  master  from  his  rest. 
Skilled  in  the  lore  of  dreaming,  they 
First  touched  the  bed  on  which  he  lay. 
But  none  replied  :  no  sound  was  heard, 


Cam 


,to  LXVL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


173 


Nor  hand,  nor  head,  nor  body  stirred. 
They  trembled,  and  their  dread  increased, 
Fearing  his  breath  of  life  had  ceased, 
And  (lending  low  their  heads,  they  shook 
Like  the.  tali  reeds  that  fringe  the  brook. 
In  doubt  and  terror  down  they  knelt, 
Looked  on  his  fare,  his  cold  hand  felt, 
And  then  the  gloomy  truth  appeared 
Of  all  their  hearts  had  darkly  feared. 
Kauialyaand  Sumitni,  worn 
With  weeping  for  their  sons,  forlorn, 
Woke  not,  but  lay  in  slumber  deep 
And  still  as  death's  unending  sleep. 
Jiowed  down  by  grief,  her  colour  lied, 
Her  wonted  lustre  dull  and  dead, 
Kansalya  shone  not,  like  a,  star 
Obscured  behind  a  cloudy  bar. 
lieside  the  king's  her  couch  was  spread, 
And  next  was  Queen  Sumitra's  bed, 
Who  shone  no  more  with  beauty's  glow, 
Her  >'ace  bedewed  with  tears  of  woe. 
There  lapped  in  sleep  each  wearied  queen, 
There  as  in  sleep,  the.  king  was  seen; 
And  swift  the  troubling  thought  came  o'er 
Their  spirits  that  IK*  breathed  no  more. 
At  once  with  wailing  loud  and  high 
The  matrons  shrieked  a  bitter  cry, 
As  widowed  elephants  bewail 
Their  dead  lord  in  the  woody  vale. 
At  the  loud  shriek  that  round  them  rang, 
Kausalya  and  Snmitra  sprang 
Awakened  from  their  beds,  with  eyes 
Wide  open  in  their  first  surprise. 
Quick  to  the  monarch's  side  they  came, 
And  saw  and  touehed  his  lifeless  frame; 
One  cry,  ()  husband!  forth  they  sent, 
And  prostrate  to  the  ground  they  went. 
The  king  of  Kosal's  daughter1  there 
Writ  bed,  with  the  dust  on  limb  and  hair, 
Lustreless,  as  a,  star  might  lie 
Hurled  downward  from  the  glorious  sky. 
When  the  king's  voice  in  death  was  stilled, 
The  women  who  the  chamber  filled, 
Saw,  like  a  widow  elephant  slain, 
Kausalya  prostrate  in  her  pain. 
Then  a.li  the,  monarch's  ladies  led 
15 y  Queen  Kaikeyi  at  (heir  head, 
'.Poured  forth  their  tears,  and  weeping  so, 
Sank  on  the  ground,  consumed  by  woe. 
The  cry  of  grief  so  long  and  loud 
Went  up  from  all  the  royal  crowd, 
That,  doubled  by  the  matron  train, 
It  made  the  palace  ring  again. 
Killed  with  dark  fear  and  eager  eyes, 
Anxiet;    and  wild  surmise  ; 
Echoing  with  the  cries  of  grief 
Of  sorrowing  friends  who  mourned  their 
chief, 


1  Kausalya,  daughter  of  the  kin^  of  an- 
other Koyiil. 


Dejected,  pnlc  with  deep  distress, 
Miii-led  from  their  height  of  happiness: 
Such  was  the  look  the  palace  wore 
VV  here  lay  the  king  who  breathed  no  more. 

CANTO  LXVI. 


THE  EMBALMING. 

Kausalya's  eyes  with  tears  o'erflowed, 
Weighed  down  by  varied  sorrows'  load  ; 
(  MI  her  dead  lord  her  ga/.e  she  bent, 
Who  lav  like  fire  whose  might  is  Spent 
Like  the  great  deep  with  waters  dry,     ' 
Or  like  the  clouded  sun  on  high. 
Then  on  her  lap  she  laid  his  head, 
And  on  Kaikeyi  looked  and  said  : 
'Triumphant  now  enjoy  thy  reign 
Without  a  thorn  thy  side  to  pain. 
Thou  hast  pursued  thy  single  aim, 
And  killed  the  king,  ()  wicked  dame. 
Ear  from  my  sight  my  llama  Hies, 
My  perished  lord  has  sought  the  skies. 
No  friend,  no  hope  my  life  to  cheer, 
I  cannot  tread  the  dark  path  here.  ' 
Who  would  forsake  her  husband,  who 
That  <*od  to  whom  her  love  is  due. 
And  wish  to  live  one  hour,  but,  she' 
Whose  heart  no  duty  owns,  like  thee  ? 
The  ravenous  sees  no  fault:  his  greed 
Will  e'en  on  poison  blindly  feed. 
Kaikeyi,  through  a,  hump-back  maid, 
This  royal  house  in  death  has  |:,,j,i. 
King  J'anak,  with  his  queen,  will  hear 
Heart-rent  like  me  the  tidings  drear 
Of  Kama,  banished  by  the  king, 
Urged  by  her  impious  counselling. 
No  son  has  he,  his  age  is  great, 
And  sinking  with  the  double  weight, 
He  for  his  darling  child  will  pine, 
And  pierced  with  woe  his  life  resign. 
Sprung  from  Videha's  monarch,  she 
A  sad  and  lovely  devotee, 
Koaming  the  wood,  unmeet  for  woe, 
Will  toil  and  trouble  undergo. 
She  in  the  gloomy  night  with  fear 
The  cries  of  beast  and  bird  will  hear, 
And  trembling  in  her  wild  alarm 
Will  cling  to  Kama's  sheltering  arm. 
Ah,  little  knows  my  duteous  sou 
That  I  am  widowed  and  undone — 
My  Kama  of  the  lotus  eye, 
Gone  hence,  gone  hence,  alas,  to  die. 
Now,  as  a  living  wife  and  true, 
I,  e'en  this  day,  will  perish  too  : 
Around  his  form  these  arms  will  throw, 
And  to  the  fire  with  him  will  go.' 

Clasping  her  husband's  lifeless  clay 
A  while  the  weeping  votaress  lav, 
Till  chamberlains  removed  her  thence 


174 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  1L 


O'ercome  by  sorrow's  violence. 
Then  in  a  cask  of  oil  they  laid 
Him  who  in  life  the  world  had  swayed, 
And  finished,  as  the  lords  desired, 
All  rites  for  parted  souls  required. 
The  lords,  all- wise,  refused  to  burn 
The  monarch  ere  his  son's  return  ; 
So  for  a  while  the  cropse  they  set 
Embalmed  in  oil,  and  waited  yet. 
The  women  heard  :  no  doubt  remained, 
And  wildly  for  the  king  they  plained. 
With  gushing  tears  that  drowned  each  eye 
Wildly  they  waved  their  arms  on  high, 
And  each  her  mangling  nails  impressed 
Beep  in  her  head  and  knee  and  breast: 
*  Of  Rama  reft, — who  ever  spake 
The  sweetest  words  the  heart  to  take, 
Who  firmly  to  the  truth  would  cling,— 
Why  dost  thou  leave  us,  mighty  King? 
How  can  the  consorts  thou  hast  left 
Widowed,  of  Raghu's  son  bereft, 
Live  with  our  foe  Kaikeyi  near, 
.  The  wicked  queen  we  hate  and  fear  ? 
She  threw  away  the  king,  her  spite 
Drove  Earn  a  forth  and  Lakshman's  might, 
And  gentle  Sita:  how  will  she 
Spare  any,  whosoe'er  it  be  ? ' 

Oppressed  with  sorrow,  tear-distained, 
The  royal  women  thus  complained. 
Like  night  when  not  a  star  appears, 
Like  a  sad  widow  drowned  in  tears, 
Ayodhya's  city,  dark  and  dim, 
lleft  of  her  lord  was  sad  for  him. 
When  thus  for  woe  the  king  to  heaven 
had  tied, 

And   still  on    earth   his    lovely   wives 

remained. 
With  dying  light  the  sun  to  rest  had  sped, 

And  night  triumphant  o'er  the  lands- 
cape reigned. 

CANTO  LXVII. 


THE  PRAISE  OF  KINGS. 

That  night  of  sorrow  passed  away, 

And  rose  again  the  God  of  Day. 

Then  all  the  twice-born  peers  of  state 

Together  met  for  high  debate. 

Javali,  lord  of  mighty  fame, 

And  Gautarn,  and  Katyayan  came, 

And  Markandeya'a  reverend  age, 

And  Vamadeva,  glorious  sage: 

Sprung  from  Mudgalya's  seed  the  one, 

The  other  ancient  Kasyap's  son. 

With  lesser  lords  these  Brahmans  each 

8poke  in  his  turn  his  several  speech, 

And  turning  to  Vasish^ha,  best 

Of  household  priests,  him  thus  addressed: 

The  night  of  bitter  woe  has  past, 


Which  seemed  a  hundred  years  to  last, 

Our  king,  in  sorrow  for  his  son, 

Reunion  with  the  Five  has  won. 

His  soul  is  where  the  Blessed  are, 

While  Rama  roams  in  woods  afar, 

Ai.d  Lakshruan,  bright  in  glorious  deeds, 

Goes  where  his  well-loved  broiher  leads. 

And  Bharat  and  &atrughna,  they 

Who  smite  their  foes  in  battle  fray, 

Far  in  the  realm  of  Kekaya  stay, 

Where  their  maternal  grandsire's  care 

Keeps  Rajagriha's  city  fair. 

Let  one  of  old  Ikshvaku's  race 

Obtain  this  day  the  sovereign's  place, 

Or  havoc  and  destruction  straight 

Our  kingless  land  will  devastate. 

In  kingless  lands  no  thunder's  voice. 

No  lightning  wreaths  the  heart  rejoice, 

Nor  does  Parjanya's  heavenly  rain 

Descend  upon  the  burning  plain. 

Where  none  is  king,  the  sower's  hand 

Casts  not  the  seed  upon  the  land  ; 

The  son  against  the  father  strives, 

And  husbands  fail  to  rule  their  wives. 

In  kingless  realms  no  princes  call 

Their  friends  to  meet  in  crowded  hall ; 

No  joyful  citizens  resort 

To  garden  trim  or  sacred  court. 

In  kingless  realms  no  Twice-born  care 

To  sacrifice  with  text  and  prayer, 

Nor  Brahmans,  who  their  vows  maintain, 

The  great  solemnities  ordain. 

The  joys  of  happier  days  have  ceased: 

No  gathering,  festival,  or  feast 

Together  calls  the  merry  throng 

Delighted  with  the  play  and  song. 

In  kingless  lands  it  ne'er  is  well 

With  sons  of  trade  who  buy  and  sell : 

No  men  who  pleasant  tales  repeat 

Delight  the  crowd  with  stories  sweet. 

In  kingless  realms- we  ne'er  behold 

Young  maidens  decked  with  gem  sand  gold, 

Flock  to  the  gardens  blithe  and  gay 

To  spend  their  evening  hours  in  play. 

No  lover  in  the  flying  car 

Hides  with  his  love  to  woods  afar. 

In  kingless  lands  no  wealthy  swain 

Who  keeps  the  herd  arid  reaps  the  grain, 

Lies  sleeping,  blest  with  ample  store, 

Securely  near  his  open  door. 

Upon  the  royal  roads  we  see 

l^o  tusked  elephant  roaming  free, 

Of  three-score  years,  whose  head  and  neck 

Sweet  tinkling  bells  of  silver  deck. 

We  hear  no  more  the  glad  applause 

When  his  strong  bow  each  rival  draws, 

No  clap  of  hands,  no  eager  cries 

That  cheer  each  martial  exercise. 

In  kingless  realms  no  merchant  bands 

Who  travel  forth  to  distant  lands, 

With  precious  wares  their  wagons  load, 


Canto  LX VII L 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


175 


And  fear  no  danger  on  the  road, 
No  sage  secure  in  self-control. 
Brooding  on  God  with  mind  and  soul, 
In  lonely  wanderings  finds  his  home 
Where'er  at  eve  his  feet  may  roam. 
In  Kingless  realms  no  man  is  sure 
He  holds  his  life  and  wealth  secure. 
In  kingless  lands  no  warriors  smite 
The  foeman's  host  in  glorious  right. 
In  kingless  lands  the  wise  no  more, 
Well  trained  in  Scripture's  holy  lore, 
In  shady  groves  and  gardens  meet 
To  argue  in  their  calm  retreat. 
No  longer,  in  religious  fear, 
Do  they  who  pious  vows  revere, 
Bring  dainty  cates  and  wreaths  of  flowers 
As  offerings  to  the  heavenly  powers. 
No  longer,  bright  as  trees  in  spring, 
Shine  forth  the  children  of  the  king 
Resplendent  in  the  people's  eyes 
With  aloe  wood  and  sandal  dyes. 
A  brook  where  water  once  has  been, 
A  grove  where  grass  no  more  is  green, 
Kine  with  no  herdsman's  guiding  hand- 
So  wretched  is  a  kingless  land. 
The  car  its  waving  banner  rears, 
Banner  of  fire  the  smoke  appears  : 
Our  king,  the  banner  of  our  pride, 
A  God  with  Gods  is  glorified. 
In  kingless  lands  no  law  is  known, 
And  none  may  call  his  wealth  his  own, 
Each  preys  on  each  from  hour  to  hour, 
As  fish  the  weaker  fish  devour. 
Then   fearless,  atheists  overleap 
The  bounds  of  right  the  godly  keep, 
And  when  no  royal  powers  restrain, 
Preeminence  and  lordship  gain. 
As  in  the  frame  of  man  the  eye 
Keeps  watch  and  ward,  a  careful  spy, 
The  monarch  in  his  wide  domains 
Protects  the  truth,  the  right  maintains. 
He  is  the  right,  the  truth  is  he, 
Their  hop<^s  in  him  the  well-born  see. 
On  him  his  people's  lives  depend, 
Mother  is  he,  and  sire,  and  friend. 
The  world  were  veiled  in  blinding  night, 
And  none  could  see  or  know  aright, 
Ruled  there  no  king  in  any  state 
The  good  and  ill  to  separate. 
We  will  obey  thy  word  and  will 
As  if  our  king  were  living  still : 
As  keeps  his  bounds  the  faithful  sea, 
So  we  observe  thy  high  decree. 
O  best  of  Brahmans,  first  in  place, 

Our  kingless  land  lies  desolate  : 
Some  scion  of  Ikshvaku's  race 

Do  thou  as  monarch  consecrate.' 


CANTO  LXVIIL 

THE   ENVOYS. 

Vasishtha  heard  their  speech  and  prayer, 
And  thus  addressed  the  concourse  there, 
Friends,  Brahmans,  counsellors,  and  all 
Assembled  in  the  palace  hall : 
'  Ye  know  that  Bharat,  free  from  care, 
Still  lives  in  Kajagriha1  where 
The  father  of  his  mother  reigns  : 
&atrughna  by  his  side  remains. 
Let  active  envoys,  good  at  need, 
Thither  on  fleetest  horses  speed, 
To  bring  the  hero  youths  away  : 
Why  waste  the  time  in  dull  delay?' 

Quick  came  from  all  the  glad  reply  : 
4  Vasishtha,  let  the  envoys  fly.' 
He  heard  their  speech,  and  thus  renewed 
His  charge  before  the  multitude  : 

*  Nandan,  Asok,  Siddharth,  attend, 
Your  ears,  Jayanta,  Vijay,  lend  : 
Be  yours,  what  need  requires,  to  do  : 
I  speak  these  words  to  all  of  you. 
With  coursers  of  the  fleetest  breed 
To  Rajagriha's  city  speed. 

Then  rid  your  bosoms  of  distress, 
And  Bharat  thus  from  me  address  : 

*  The  household  priest  and  peers  by  us 
Send  health  to  thee  and  greet  thee  thus: 
Come  to  thy  father's  home  with  haste  : 
Thine  absent  time  no  longer  waste.' 
But  speak  no  word  of  Rama  fled, 

Tell  not  the  prince  his  sire  is  dead, 
Nor  to  the  royal  youth  the  fate 
That  ruins  Raghu's  race  relate. 
Go  quickly  hence,  and  with  you  bear 
Fine  silken  vestures  rich  and  rare, 
And  gems  and  many  a  precious  thing 
As  gifts  to  Bharat  and  the  king.' 

With  ample  stores  of  food  supplied, 
Each  to  his  home  the  envoys  hied, 
Prepared,  with  steeds  of  swiftest  race, 
To  Kekaya's  land2  their  way  to  trace. 
They  made  all  due  provision  there, 
And  every  need  arranged  with  care, 
Then  ordered  by  Vasishtha,  they 
Went  forth  with  speed  upon  their  way. 
Then  northward  of  Pralamba,  west 
Of  Apartala,  on  they  pressed, 
Crossing  the  Malini  that  flowed 
With  gentle  stream  athwart  the  road. 
They  traversed  Ganga's  holy  waves 


1  Rajagriha,orGirivraja  was  the  capital 
of  Asvapati,  Bharat's  maternal  grand  father. 

s  The  Kekayas  or  Kaikayas  in  the 
Punjab  appear  amongst  the  chief  nations 
in  the  war  of  the  Mahabharata  ;  their  king 
being  a  kinsman  of  Krishna, 


176 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Hooh  II. 


Where  she  Hastinapura1  laves, 
Thence  to  Panchala2  westward  fast 
Through  Kurujangal's  land3  they  passed. 
On,  on  their  course  the  envoys  held 
By  urgency  of  task  impelled. 
Quick  glancing  at  each  lucid  flood 
And  sweet  lake  gay  with  flower  and  bud. 
Beyond,  they  passed  unwearied  o'er, 
Where  glad  birds  till  the  flood  and  shore 
Of  $aradanda  racing  fleet 
With  heavenly  water  clear  and  sweet, 
Thereby  a  tree  celestial  grows 
Which  every  boon  on  prayer  bestows: 
To  its  blest  shade  they  humbly  bent, 
Then  to  Kulinga's  town  they  went. 
Then,  having  passed  the  Warrior's  Wood, 
In  Abhikala  next  they  stood, 
O'er  sacred  Ikshumati4  came, 
Their  ansient  kings'  ancestral  claim, 
They  saw  the  learned  Brahmans  stand, 
Each  drinking  from  his  hollowed  hand, 
And  through  Bahika5  journeying  still 
They  reached  at  length  Sudaman's  hill : 
There  Vishnu's  footstep  turned  to  see, 
Vipasa6  viewed,  and  Salmali, 
And  many  a  lake  and  river  met, 
Tank,  pool,  and  pond,  and  rivulet. 
And  lions  saw,  and  tigers  near, 
And  elephants  and  herds  of  deer, 
And  still,  by  prompt  obedience  led, 
Along  the  ample  road  they  sped. 
Then  when  their  course  so  swift  and  long, 
Had  worn  their  steeds  though  fleet  and 

strong, 

To  Girivraja's  splendid  town 
They  came  by  night,  and  lighted  down. 


1  Hastinapura  was  the  capital  of  the 
kingdom  of  Kuru,  near  the  modern  Delhi. 

*  The  Panchalas  occupied  the  upper  part 
of  the  Doab, 

3  '  Kurujangala  and  its  inhabitants  are 
frequently  mentioned  in  the  Mahdbhdrata, 
as  in  the  Adi-parv.  3789,  4337,  et  ai: 
WILSON'S  Vishnu  Pur  ana.  Vol.  II.  p.  176. 
DR.  HALL'S  Note. 

*  '  The  "O^vfjiaTig  of  Arrian.    See  As. 
Res.  Vol   XV.   p.   420,  421,  also  Indische 
AltertJiumskunde,Vol.  I.  p.  602,  first  foot- 
note.'    WILSON'S  Vishnu  Parana,  Vol.  I. 
p.  421.  DR.  HALL'S  Edition.  The  Ikshumati 
was  a  river  in  Kurukshetra. 

5  '  The  Bahikas  are  described  in  the 
Mahabharata,  Karna  Parvan,  with  some 
detail,  and  comprehend  the  different  na- 
tions of  the  Punjab  from  the  Sutlej  to  the 
Indus.'  WILSON'S  Vishnu  Purdna.  Vol.  I. 
p.  167. 

6  The  Beas,  Hyphasis,  or  Bibasis. 


To  please  their  master,  and  to  guard 
The  royal  race,  the  lineal  right, 
The  envoys,  spent  with  riding  hard, 
To  that  fair  city  came  by  night.1 

CANTO  LXIX. 


BHARAT'S  DREAM. 

The  night  those  messengers  of  state 
Had  past  within  the  city's  gate, 
In  dreams  the  slumbering  Bharatsaw 
A  sight  that  chilled  his  soul  with  awe. 
The  dream  that  dire  events  foretold 
Left  Bharat's  heart  with  horror  cold, 

1  It  would  be  lost  labour  to  attempt  to 
verify  all  the  towns  and  streams  mention- 
ed in  Cantos  LXVIII  and  LXXII.  Pro- 
fessor Wilson  observes  ( Vishnu  Purdna, 
p.  139.  Dr.  Hall's  Edition)  'States,  and 
tribes,  and  cities  have  disappeared,  even 
from  recollection  ;  and  some  of  the  natural 
features  of  the  country,  especially  the 
rivers,  have  undergone  a  total  alteration 


Notwithstanding  these  impediments,  how- 
ever,  we  should  be  able  to  identify  at  least 
mountains  and  rivers,  to  a  much  greater 
extent  than  is  now  practicable,  if  our 
maps  were  not  so  miserably  defective  in 
their  nomenclature.  None  of  .our  surve- 
yors or  geographers  have  been  oriental 
scholars.  It  may  be  doubted  if  any  of  them 
have  been  conversant  with  the  spoken 
language  of  the  country.  They  have,  con- 
sequently, put  down  names  at  random,  ac- 
cording to  their  own  inaccurate  appre- 
ciation of  sounds  carelessly,  vulgarly,  and 
corruptly  uttered ;  and  their  maps  of 
India  are  crowded  with  appellations  which 
bear  no  similitude  whatever  either  to  past 
or  present  denominations.  We  need  not 
wonder  that  we  cannot  discover  Sanskrit 
names  in  English  maps,  when,  in  the  im- 
mediate vicinity  of  Calcutta,  Barnagore 
represents  Barahanagar,  Dakshineswar  is 
metamorphosed  into  Duckinsore,  and  Ulu- 

baria  into  Willoughbury.... There 

is  scarcely  a  name  in  our  Indian  maps 
that  does  not  afford  proof  of  extreme  in- 
difference to  accuracy  in  nomenclature, 
and  of  an  incorrectness  in  estimating 
sounds,  which  is,  in  some  degree,  perhaps, 
a  national  defect.' 

For  further  information  regarding  the 
road  from  Ayodhya  to  Rajagriha,  see 
Additional  Notes* 


Canto  LXX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


177 


And  with  consuming  woes  distraught, 
Upon  his  aged  sire  he  thought. 
His  dear  companions,  swift  to  traoe 
The  signs  of  anguish  on  his  face, 
Drew  near,  his  sorrow  to  expel, 
And  pleasant  tales  began  to  tell. 
Some  woke  sweet  music's  cheering  sound, 
And  others  danced  in  lively  round. 
With  joke  and  jest  they  strove  to  raise 
His  spirits,  quoting  ancient  plays  ; 
But  Bharat  still,  the  lofty-souled, 
Deaf  to  sweet  tales  his  fellows  told, 
Unmoved  by  music,  dance,  and  jest, 
Sat  silent,  by  his  woe  oppressed. 
To  him,  begirt  by  comrades  near, 
Thus  spoke  the  friend  he  held  most  dear  : 
4  Why  ringed  around  by  friends,  art  thou 
So  silent  and  so  mournful  now?' 
'  Hear  thou,'  thus  Bharat  made  reply, 
*  What  chills  my  heart  and  dims  mine  eye. 
I  dreamt  I  saw  the  king  my  sire 
Sink  headlong  in  a  lake  of  mire 
Down  from  a  mountain  high  in  air, 
His  body  soiled,  and  loose  his  hair. 
Upon  the  miry  lake  he  seemed 
To  lie  and  welter,  as  I  dreamed  ; 
With  hollowed  hands  full  many  a  draught 
Of  oil  he  took,  and  loudly  laughed. 
With  head  cast  down  1  saw  him  make 
A  meal  on  sesamum  and  cake  ; 
The  oil  from  every  member  dripped, 
And  in  its  clammy  flood  he  dipped. 
The  ocean's  bed  was  bare  and  dry, 
The  moon  had  fallen  from  the  s^ 
And  all  the  world  lay  still  and  dead, 
With  whelming  darkness  overspread. 
The  earth  was  rent  and  opened  wide, 
The  leafy  trees  were  scorched,  and  died  ; 
I  saw  the  seated  mountains  split, 
And  wreaths  of  rising  smoke  emit. 
The  stately  beast  the  monarch  rode 
His  long  tusks  rent  and  splintered  showed  ; 
And  flames  that  quenched  and  cold  had  lain 
Blazed  forth  with  kindled  light  again. 
I  looked,  and  many  a  handsome  dame, 
Arrayed  in  brown  and  sable  came 
And  bore  about  the  monarch,  dressed, 
On  iron  stool,  in  sable  vest. 
And  then  the  king,  of  virtuous  mind, 
A  blood-red  wreath  around  him  twined, 
Forth  on  an  ass-drawn  chariot  sped, 
As  southward  still  he  bent  his  head. 
Then,  crimson-clad,  a  dame  appeared 
Who  at  the  monarch  laughed  and  jeered  ; 
And  a  she-monster,  dire  to  view, 
Her  hand  upon  his  body  threw. 
Such  is  the  dream  I  dreamt  by  night, 
Which  chills  me  yet  with  wild  affright  : 
Either  the  king  or  Rama,  I 
Or  Lakshman  now  must  surely  die. 
For  when  an  ass-drawn  chariot  seems 


To  bear  away  a  man  in  dreams, 

Be  sure  above  his  funeral  pyre 

The  smoke  soon  rears  its  cloudy  spire. 

This  makes  my  spirit  low  and  weak, 

My  tongue  is  slow  and  loth  to  speak: 

My  lips  and  throat  are  dry  for  dread, 

And  all  my  soul  disquieted. 

My  lips,  relaxed,  can  hardly  speak, 

And  chilling  dread  has  changed  my  cheek 

I  blame  myself  in  aimless  fears, 

And  still  no  cause  of  blame  appears. 

I  dwell  upon  this  dream  of  ill 

Whose  changing  scenes  I  viewed, 
And  on  the  startling  horror  still 

My  troubled  thoughts  will  brood. 
Still  to  my  soul  these  terrors  cling, 

Reluctant  to  depart, 
And  the  strange  vision  of  the  king 

Still  weighs  upon  my  heart,' 

CANTO  LXX. 
BHARAT'S  DEPARTURE. 

While  thus  he  spoke,  the  envoys  borne 
On  horses  faint  and  travel-worn 
Had  gained  the  city  fenced  around 
With  a  deep  moat's  protecting  bound. 
An  audience  of  the  king  they  gained, 
And  honours  from  the  prince  obtained  ; 
The  monarch's  feet  they  humbly  pressed, 
To  Bharat  next  these  words  addressed  : 
'  The  household  priest  and  peers  by  us 
Send  health  to  thee  and  greet  thee  thus  : 
*  Come  to  thy  father's  house  with  haste  : 
Thine  absent  time  no  longer  waste. 
Keceive  these  vestures  rich  and  rare, 
These  costly  gems  and  jewels  fair, 
And  to  thy  uncle  here  present 
Each  precious  robe  and  ornament. 
These  for  the  king  and  him  suffice—- 
Two hundred  millions  is  their  price— 
These,  worth  a  hundred  millions,  be 
Reserved.  O  large-eyed  Prince,  for  thee.1 

Loving  his  friends  with  heart  and  soul, 
The  joyful  prince  received  the  whole, 
Due  honour  to  the  envoys  paid, 
And  thus  in  turn  his  answer  made  : 
'  Of  Dasaratha  tidings  tell  : 
Is  the  old  king  my  father  well  ? 
Is  Rama,  and  is  Lakshman,  he 
Of  the  high-soul,  from  sickness  free  ? 
And  she  who  walks  where  duty  leads, 
Kauialy&,  known  for  gracious  deeds, 
Mother  of  Rama,  loving  spouse, 
Bound  to  her  lord  by  well  kept  vows  ? 
And  Lakshman's  mother  too,  the  dame 
Sumitra  skilled  in  duty's  claim, 
Who  brave  Satrughna  also  bare, 
Second  in  age,— her  health  declare. 


173 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  12. 


And  she,  in  self-conceit  most  sage, 
With  selfish  heart  most  prone  to  rage, 
My  mother,  fares  she  well  ?  has  she 
Sent  message  or  command  to  me  ?' 

Thus  Bharat  spake,  the  mighty- soul ed, 
And  they  in  brief  their  tidings  told  : 
'  All  they  of  whom  thou  askest  dwell, 
O  lion  lord,  secure  and  well  : 
Thine  all  the  smiles  of  fortune  are  : 
Make  ready;  let  them  yoke  the  car.' 

Thus  by  the  royal  envoys  pressed, 
Bharat  again  the  band  addressed  : 
'  I  go  with  you  :  no  long  delay, 
A  single  hour  I  bid  you  stay.' 
Thus  Bharat,  son  of  him  who  swayed 
Ayodhyas  realm,  his  answer  made, 
And  then  bespoke,  his  heart  to  please, 
His  mother's  sire  in  words  like  these ; 
*  I  go  to  see  my  father,  King, 
Urged  by  the  envoys'  summoning  ; 
And  when  thy  soul  desires  to  see 
Thy  grandson,  will  return  to  thee.* 

The  king  his  grandsire  kissed  his  head, 
And  in  reply  to  Bharat  said : 
'  Go  forth,  dear  child  ;  how  blest  is  she, 
The  mother  of  a  son  like  thee ! 
Greet  well  thy  sire,  thy  mother  greet, 
O  thou  whose  arms  the  foe  defeat ; 
The  household  priest,  and  all  the  rest 
Amid  the  Twice-born  chief  and  best ; 
And  Rama  and  brave  Lakshman,  who 
Shoot  the  long  shaft  with  aim  so  true.' 

To  him  the  king  high  honour  showed, 
And  store  of  wealth  and  gifts  bestowed, 
The  choicest  elephants  to  ride, 
And  skins  and  blankets  deftly  dyed, 
A  thousand  strings  of  golden  beads, 
And  sixteen  hundred  mettled  steeds  ; 
And  boundless  wealth  before  him  piled 
Gave  Kekaya  to  Kaikeyi's  child. 
And  men  of  counsel,  good  and  tried, 
On  whose  firm  truth  he  aye  relied, 
King  Asvapati  gave  with  speed 
Prince  Bharat  on  his  way  to  lead. 
And  noble  elephants,  strong  and  young, 
From  sires  of  Indrasira  sprung, 
And  others  tall  and  fair  to  view 
Of  great  Airavat's  lineage  true  : 
And  well  yoked  asses  fleet  of  limb 
The  prince  his  uncle  gave  to  him. 
Arid  dogs  within  the  palace  bred, 
Of  body  vast  and  massive  head, 
With  mighty  fangs  for  battle,  brave, 
The  tiger's  match  in  strength,  he  gave. 
Yet  Bharat's  bosom  hardly  glowed 
To  see  the  wealth  the  king  bestowed; 
For  he  would  speed  that  hour  away, 
Such  care  upon  his  bosom  lay : 
Those  eager  envoys  urged  him  thence, 
And  that  sad  vision's  influence. 
He  left  hia  court-yard,  crowded  then 


With  elephants  and  steeds  and  men, 

And,  peerless  in  immortal  fame, 

To  the  great  royal  street  he  came. 

He  saw,  as  farther  still  he  went, 

The  inner  rooms  most  excellent, 

And  passed  the  doors,  to  him  unclosed, 

Where  check  nor  bar  his  way  pppossd. 

There  Bharat  stayed  to  bid  adieu 

To  grandsire  and  to  uncle  too, 

Then,  with  ^atrughna  by  his  side, 

Mounting  his  car,  away  he  hied. 

The  strong-wheeled  cars  were  yoked,  and 

they 

More  than  a  hundred,  rolled  away  : 
Servants,  with  horses,  asses,  kine, 
Followed  their  lord  in  endless  line. 
So,  guarded  by  his  own  right  hand, 

Forth  high-souled  Bharat  hied, 
Surrounded  by  a  lordly  band 

On  whom  the  king  relied. 
Beside  him  sat  $atrughna  dear, 

The  scourge  of  trembling  foes  : 
Thus  from  the  light  of  Indra's  sphere 

A  saiut  made  perfect  goes. 


CANTO  LXXI. 


BHARAT'S  RETURN. 

Then  Bharat's  face  was  eastward  bent 
As  from  the  royal  town  he  went. 
He  reached  Sudama's  farther  side, 
And  glorious,  gazed  upon  the  tide  ; 
Passed  Hladini,  arid  saw  her  toss 
Her  westering  billows  hard  to  cross. 
Then  old  Ikshvdku's  famous  sou 
O'er  Satadru1  his  passage  won, 
Near  Ailadhana  on  the  strand, 
And  came  to  Aparparyat's  land. 
O'er  Vila's  flood  he  hurried  fast, 
Akurvati's  fair  stream  he  passed, 
Crossed  o'er  Agneya's  rapid'rill, 
And  Salyakartan  onward  still. 
6ilavaha's  swift  stream  he  eyed, 
True  to  his  vows  and  purified, 
Then  crossed  the  lofty  hills,  and  stood 
In  Chaitraratha's  mighty  wood. 
He  reached  the  confluence  where  meet 
Sarasvati2  and  Ganga  fleet, 
And  through  Bharunda  forest,  spread 
Northward  of  Viramatsya,  sped. 
He  sought  Kalinda's  child,  who  fills 


1  'The  £atadru,  '  the  hundred-channel- 
led ' — the  Zaradrus  of  Ptolemy,  Hesydrua 
of  Pliny— is  the  Sutlej.'  WILSON'S  Vishnu 
Purdna,  Vol.  II.  p.  130. 

2  The  Sarasvati  or  Sursooty  is  a  tri- 
butary of  the  Caggar  or  Guggur  in  Sirhind. 


Canto  LXXL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


179 


The  soul  with  joy,  begirt  by  hills, 

Beached  Yamuna,  and  passing  o'er, 

Kested  his  army  on  the  shore  : 

He  gave  his  horses  food  and  rest, 

Bathed  reeking  limb  and  drooping  crest. 

They  drank  their  fill  and  bathed  them  there, 

And  water  for  their  journey  bare. 

Thence  through  a  mighty  wood  he  sped 

All  wild  and  uninhabited, 

As  in  fair  chariot  through  the  skies, 

Most  fair  in  shape  a  Storui-God  flies. 

At  Ansudhana  Ganga,  hard 

To  cross,  his  onward  journey  barred, 

So  turning  quickly  thence  he  came 

To  Pragvat's  city  dear  to  fame, 

There  having  gained  the  farther  side 

To  Kutikoshtika  he  hied  : 

The  stream  he  crossed,  and  onward  then 

To  Dharmavardhan  brought  his  men. 

Thence,  leaving  Toran  on  the  north, 

To  Jambuprastha  journeyed  forth. 

Then  onward  to  a  pleasant  grove 

By  fair  Varutha's  town  he  drove, 

And  when  a  while  he  there  had  stayed, 

Went  eastward  from  the  friendly  shade. 

Eastward  of  Qjjihana  where 

The  Priyak  trees  are  tall  and  fair, 

He  parsed,  and  rested  there  each  steed 

•Exhausted  with  the  journey's  speed. 

There  orders  to  his  men  addressed, 

With  quickened  pace  he  onward  pressed, 

A  while  at  Sarvatirtha  spent, 

Then  o'er  Uttanika  he  went. 

O'er  many  a  stream  beside  he  sped 

With  coursers  on  the  mountains  bred, 

And  passing  Hastiprishthak,  took 

The  road  o'er  Kutika's  fair  brook. 

Then,  at  Lohitya's  village,  he 

Crossed  o'er  the  swift  Kapivati, 

Then  passed,  where  Ekasala  stands, 

The  Sthanumati's  flood  and  sands, 

And  Gomati  of  fair  renown 

By  Vinata's  delightful  town. 

When  to  Kalinga  near  he  drew, 

A  wood  of  Sal  trees  charmed  the  view  ; 

That  passed,  the  sun  began  to  rise, 

And  Bharat  saw  with  happy  eyes, 

Ayodhya's  city,  built  and  planned 

By  ancient  M ami's  royal  hand. 

Seven  nights  upon  the  road  had  passed, 

And  when  he  saw  the  town  at  last 

Before  him  in  her  beauty  spread, 

Thus  Bharat  to  the  driver  said  : 

*  This  glorious  city  from  afar, 

Wherf :in  pure  groves  and  gardens  are, 

Seems  to  my  eager  eyes  to-day 

A  lifeless  pile  of  yellow  clay. 

Through  all  her  streets  where  erst  a  throng 

Of  men  and  women  streamed  along, 

Uprose  the  multitudinous  roar  :    . 

To-day  I  hear  that  sonnd  no  more. 


No  longer  do  mine  eyes  behold 

The  leading  people,  as  of  old, 

On  elephants,  cars,  horses,  go 

Abroad  and  homeward,  to  and  fro. 

The  brilliant  gardens,  where  we  heard 

The  wild  note  of  each  rapturous  bird, 

Where  men  and  women  loved  to  meet, 

In  pleasant  shades,  for  pastime  sweet, — 

These  to  my  eyes  this  day  appear 

Joyless,  and  desolate,  and  drear  : 

Each  tree  that  graced  the  garden  grieves, 

And  every  patli  is  spread  with  leaves. 

The  merry  cry  of  bird  and  beast, 

That  spake  aloud  their  joy,  has  ceased  : 

Still  is  the  long  melodious  note 

That  charmed  us  from  each  warbling  throat. 

Why  blows  the  blessed  air  no  more, 

The  incense-breathing  air  that  bore 

Its  sweet  incomparable'scent 

Of  sandal  and  of  aloe  blent  ? 

Why  are  the  drum  and  tabour  mute  ? 

Why  is  the  music  of  the  lute 

That  woke  responsive  to  the  quill. 

Loved  by  the  happy,  hushed  and  still? 

My  boding  spirit  gathers  hence 

Dire  sins  of  awful  consequence, 

And  omens,  crowding  on  my  sight, 

Weigh  down  my  soul  with  wild  affright. 

Scarce  shall  I  h'nd  my  friends  who  dwell 

Here  in  Ayodhya  safe  and  well : 

For  surely  not  without  a  cause 

This  crushing  dread  my  soul  o'erawes,' 

Heart-sick,  dejected,  every  sense 
Confused  by  terror's  influence, 
On  to  the  town  he  quickly  swept 
Which  King  Ikshvaku's  children  kept. 
He  passed  through  Vaijayanta's  gate, 
With  weary  steeds,  disconsolate, 
And  all  who  near  their  station  held, 
His  escort,  crying  Victory,  swelled, 
With  heart  distracted  still  he  bowed 
Farewell  to  all  the  following  crowd, 
Turned  to  the  driver  and  began 
To  question  thus  the  weary  man  : 
'Why  was  I  brought,  O  free  from  blame, 
So  fast,  unknown  for  what  I  came? 
Yet  fear  of  ill  my  heart  appals, 
And  all  my  wonted  courage  falls. 
For  I  have  heard  in  days  gone  by 
The  changes  seen  when  monarchs  die  ; 
And  all  those  signs,  O  charioteer, 
I  see  to-day  surround  me  here  : 
Each  kinsman's  house  looks  dark  and  grim, 
No  hand  delights  to  keep  it  trim  : 
The  beauty  vanished,  and  the  pride, 
The  doors,  unkept,  stand  open  wide. 
No  morning  rites  are  offered  there, 
No  grateful  incense  loads  the  air, 
And  all  therein,  with  brows  o'ercast, 
Sit  joyless  on  the  ground  and  fast. 
Their  lovely  chaplets  dry  and  dead, 


180 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


Their  courts  unswept,  with  dust  o'erspread, 
The  temples  of  the  Gods  to-day 
No  more  look  beautiful  and  gay. 
Neglected  stands  each  holy  shrne, 
Each  image  of  a  Lord  divine. 
No  shop  where  flowery  wreaths  are  sold 
Is  bright  and  busy  as  of  old. 
The  women  and  the  men  I  mark 
Absorbed  in  fancies  dull  and  dark, 
Their  gloomy  eyes  with  tears  bedewed, 
A  poor  afflicted  multitude.' 

His  mind  oppressed  with  woe  and  dread, 
Thus  Bharat  to  his  driver  said, 
Viewed  the  dire  signs  Ayodhya  showed, 
And  onward  to  the  palace  rode, 

CANTO  LXXII. 
BHARAT'S  INQUIRY. 

He  entered  in,  he  looked  around, 
Nor  in  the  house  his  father  found; 
Then  to  his  mother's  dwelling,  bent 
To  see  her  face,  he  quickly  went. 
She  saw  her  son,  so  long  away, 
Returning  after  many  a  day, 
And  from  her  golden  seat  in  joy 
Sprang  forward  to  her  darling  boy. 
Within  the  bovver,  no  longer  bright, 
Came  Bharat  lover  of  the  right, 
And  bending  with  observance  sweet 
Clasped  his  dear  mother's  lovely  feet. 
Long  kisses  on  his  brow  she  pressed, 
And  held  her  hero  to  her  breast, 
Then  fondly  drew  him  to  her  knees, 
And  questioned  him  in  words  like  these : 
'  How  many  nights  have  fled,  since  thou 
Leftest  thy  grandsire's  home,  till  now  2 
By  flying  steeds  so  swiftly  borne, 
Art  thou  not  weak  and  travel-worn  ? 
How  fares  the  king  my  father,  tell; 
Is  Yudhajit  thine  uncle  well  ? 
And  now,  my  son,  at  length  declare 
The  pleasures  of  the  visit  there.' 

Thus  to  the  offspring  of  the  king 
She  spake  with  tender  questioning, 
And  to  his  mother  made  reply 
Young  Bharat  of  the  lotus  eye  :  * 
1  The  seventh  night  has  come  and  fled 
Since  from  my  grandsire's  home  I  sped  : 
My  mother's  sire  is  well,  and  he, 
Yudhajit,  from  all  trouble  free. 
The  gold  and  eveiy  precious  thing 
Presented  by  the  conqueror  king, 
The  slower  guards  behind  convey  : 
I  left  them  weary  on  the  way. 
Urged  by  the  men  my  father  sent, 
My  hasty  course  I  hither  bent  : 
Now,  I  implore,  an  answer  deign, 
And  all  I  wish  to  know,  explain. 


Unoccupied  I  now  behold 
This  couch  of  thine  adorned  with  gold, 
And  each  of  King  Ikshvaku's  race 
Appears  with  dark  and  gloomy  face. 
The  king  is  aye,  my  mother  dear, 
Most  constant  in  his  visits  here. 
To  meet  my  sire  I  sought  this  spot : 
How  is  it  that  I  find  him  not  ? 
I  long  to  clasp  my  father's  feet : 
Say  where  he  lingers,  I  entreat. 
Perchance  the  monarch  may  be  seen 
Where  dwells  Kausalya,  eldest  queen.' 

His  father's  fate,  from  him  concealed, 
Kaikeyi  to  her  son  revealed: 
Told  as  glad  news  the  story  sad, 
For  lust  of  sway  had  made  her  mad: 
'  Thy  father,  O  my  darling,  know, 
Has  gone  the  way  all  life  must  go: 
Devout  and  famed,  of  lofty  thought, 
In  whom  the  good  their  refuge  sought.' 

When  Bharat  pious,  pure,  and  true, 
Heard  the  sad  words  which  pierced  him 

through, 

Grieved  for  the  sire  he  loved  so  well 
Prostrate  upon  the  ground  he  fell  : 
Down  fell  the  strong-armed  hero,  high 
Tossing  his  arms,  and  a  sad  cry, 

*  Ah,  woe  is  me,  unhappy,  slain  !' 
Burst  from  his  lips  again,  again, 
Afflicted  for  his  father's  fate 

By  grief's  intolerable  weight, 

With  every  sense  amazed  and  cowed 

The  splendid  hero  wailed  aloud  : 

*  Ah  me,  my  royal  father's  bed 
Of  old  a  gentle  radiance  shed, 

Like  the  pure  sky  when  clouds  are  past, 
And  the  moon's  light  is  o'er  it  cast: 
Ah,  of  its  wisest  lord  bereft, 
It  shows  to-day  faint  radiance  left, 
As  when  the  moon  has  left  the  sky, 
Or  mighty  Ocean's  depths  are  dry.' 

With  choking  sobs,  with  many  a  tear. 
Pierced  to  the  heart  with  grief  sincere, 
The  best  of  conquerors  poured  his  sighs, 
And  with  his  robe  veiled  face  and  eyes. 
Kaikeyi  saw  him  fallen  there, 
Godlike,  afflicted,  in  despair, 
Used  every  art  to  move  him  thence, 
And  tried  him  thus  with  eloquence  : 
4  Arise,  arise,  my  dearest;  why 
Wilt  thou,  famed  Prince,  so  lowly  lie  ? 
Not  by  such  grief  as  this  are  moved 
Good  men  like  thee,  by  all  approved. 
The  earth  thy  father  nobly  swayed, 
And  rites  to  Heaven  he  duly  paid. 
At  length  his  race  of  life  was  run  : 
Thou  shouldst  not  mourn  for  him,  my  son.' 

Long  on  the  ground  he  wept,  and  rolled 
From  side  to  side,  still  unconsoled, 
And  then,  with  bitter  grief  oppressed, 
His  mother  with  these  words  addressed  : 


Canto  LXXIII. 


THE  RAMA  TAN. 


181 


*  This  joyful  hope  my  bosom  fed 

When  from  my  grancUire's  halls  I  sped — 
'  The  king  will  throne  his  eldest  son, 
And  sacrifice,  as  should  be  done.' 
But  ail  is  changed,  my  hope  was  vain, 
And  this  sad  heart  is  rent  in  twain, 
For  my  dear  father's  face  I  miss, 
Who  ever  sought  his  loved  ones'  bliss. 
But  in  my  absence,  mother,  say, 
What  sickness  took  my  sire  away? 
Ah,  happy  Rama,  happy  they 
Allowed  his  funeral  rites  to  pay  ! 
The  glorious  monarch  has  not  learned 
That  I  his  darling  have  returned, 
Or  quickly  had  he  hither  sped, 
And  pressed  his  kisses  on  my  head. 
Where  is  that  hand  whose  gentle  touch, 
Most  soft  and  kind  I  loved  so  much, 
The  hand  that  loved  to  brush  away 
The  dust  that  on  his  darling  lay  ? 
Quick,  bear  the  news  to  Rama's  ear  ; 
Tell  the  great  chief  that  I  am  here  : 
Brother,  and  sire,  and  friend,  and  all 
Is  he,  and  I  his  trusty  thrall. 
For  noble  hearts,  to  virtue  true, 
Their  sires  in  elder  brothers  view. 
To  clasp  his  feet  I  fain  would  bow : 
He  is  my  hope  and  refuge  now. 
What  said  my  glorious  sire,  who  knew 
Virtue  and  vice,  so  brave  and  true? 
Firm  in  his  vows,  dear  lady,  say, 
What  said  he  ere  he  passed  awa'y  ? 
What  was  his  rede  to  me  ?  I  crave 
To  hear  the  last  advice  he  gave.' 

Thus  closely  questioned  by  the  youth, 
Kaikeyi  spoke  the  mournful  truth  : 

*  The  high -souled  monarch  wept  and  sighed, 
For  Rama,  Sita,  Lakshman,  cried, 
Then,  best  of  all  who  go  to  bliss, 
Passed  to  the  world  which  follows  this. 

'  Ah,  blessed  are  the  people  who 
*Shall  Rama  and  his  Sita  view, 
And  Lakshman  of  the  mighty  arm, 
Returning  free'  from  scathe  and  harm.' 
Such  were  the  words,  the  last  of  all, 
Thy  father,  ere  he  died,  let  fall, 
By  Fate  and  Death's  dread  coils  en  wound, 
As  some  great  elephant  is  bound.' 

He  heard,  yet  deeper  in  despair, 
Her  lips  this  double  woe  declare, 
And  withj-sad  brow  that  showed  his  pain 
Questioned  his  mother  thus  again  : 
4  But  where  is  he,  of  virtue  tried, 
Who  fills  Kausalya's  heart  with  pride, 
Where  is  the  noble  Rama  ?  where 
Is  Lakshman  brave,  and  Sita  fair  ?' 

Thus  pressed,  the  queen  began  to  tell 
The  story  as  each  thing  befell, 
And  gave  her  son  in  words  like  these, 
The  mournful  news  she  meant  to  please  '. 
( The  prince  is  gone  in  hermit  dress 


To  Dan  dak's  mighty  wilderness, 
And  Lakshman  brave  and  Sita  share 
The  wanderings  of  the  exile  there.' 

Then  Bharat's  soul  with  fear  was  stirred 
Lest  Rama  from  the  right  had  erred, 
And  jealous  for  ancestral  fame, 
He  put  this  quetion  to  the  dame  : 
*  Has  Rama  grasped  with  lawless  hold 
A  Brahman's  house,  or  land,  or  gold  ? 
Has  Rama  harmed  with  ill  intent 
Some  poor  or  wealthy  innocent  ? 
Was  Rama,  faithless  to  his  vows, 
Enamoured  of  anothers  spouse  ? 
Why  was  he  sent  to  Dandak's  wild, 
Like  one  who  kills  an  unborn  child  ?' 

He  questioned  thus  :  and  she  began 
To  tell  her  deeds  and  crafty  plan, 
Deceitful-hearted,  fond,  and  blind 
As  is  the  way  of  womankind  : 
'  No  Brahman's  wealth  has  Rama  seized, 
No  dame  his  wandering  fancy  pleased  ; 
His  very  eyes  he  ne'er  allows 
To  gaze  upon  a  neighbour's  spouse. 
But  when  I  heard  the  monarch  planned 
To  give  the  realm  to  Rama's  hand, 
I  prayed  that  Rama  hence  might  flee, 
And  claimed  the  throne,  my  son.  for  thee. 
The  king  maintained  the  name  he  bare, 
And  did  according  to  my  prayer. 
And  Rama,  with  his  brother,  sent, 
And  Sit&,  forth  to  banishment. 
When  his  dear  son  was  seen  no  more, 
The  lord  of  earth  was  troubled  sore  : 
Too  feeble  with  his  grief  to  strive, 
He  joined  the  elemental  Five. 
Up  then,  most  dutiful !  maintain 
The  royal  state,  arise,  and  reign. 
For  thee,  my  darling  son,  for  thee 
All  this  was  planned  and  wrought  by  me. 
Come,  cast  thy  grief  and  pain  aside, 
With  manly  courage  fortified. 
This  town  and  realm  are  all  thine  own, 
And  fear  and  grief  are  here  unknown. 
Come,  with  Vasishtha's  guiding  aid, 

And  priests  in  ritual  skilled 
Let  the  king's  funeral  dues  be  paid, 

And  every  claim  fulfilled. 
Perform  his  obsequies  with  all 

That  suits  his  rank  and  worth, 
Then  give  the  mandate  to  install 

Thyself  as  lord  of  earth.' 


CANTO  LXXIII. 


KAIKEYI  REPROACHED. 

But  when  he  heard  the  queen  relate 
His  brothers'  doom,  his  father's  fate, 
Thus  Bharat  to  his  mother  said 
With  burning  grief  disquieted  ; 


182 


THE  RAMA  TAN. 


Boole  II. 


4  Alas,  what  boots  it  now  to  reign, 

Struck  down  by  grief  and  well-nigh  slain  ? 

Ah,  both  are  gone,  my  sire,  and  he 

Who  was  a  second  sire  to  me. 

Grief  upon  grief  thy  hand  has  made, 

And  salt  upon  my  gashes  laid: 

For  my  dear  sire  has  died  through  thee, 

And  Kama  roams  a  devotee. 

Thou  earnest  like  the  night  of  Fate 

This  royal  house  to  devastate. 

Unwitting  ill,  my  hapless  sire 

Placed  in  his  bosom  coals  of  fire, 

And  through  thy  crimes  his  death  he  met, 

0  thou  whose  heart  on  sin  is  set. 
Shame  of  thy  house  !  thy  senseless  deed 
Has  reft  all  joy  from  Raghu's  seed. 
The  truthful  monarch,  dear  to  fame, 
Eeceived  thee  as  his  wedded  dame, 
And  by  thy  act  to  misery  doomed 

Has  died  by  flames  of  grief  consumed. 
Kausaly&  and  Sumitra  too 
The  coming  of  my  mother  rue, 
And  if  they  live  oppressed  bv  woe, 
For  their  dear  sons  their  sad  tears  flow. 
Was  he  not  ever  good  and  kind, — 
That  hero  of  the  duteous  mind  ? 
Skilled  in  all  filial  duties,  he 
As  a  dear  mother  treated  thee. 
Kausalya  too,  the  eldest  queen. 
Who  far  foresees  with  insight  keen, 
Did  she  not  ever  show  thee  all 
A  sister's  love  at  duty's  call  ? 
And  hast  thou  from  the  kingdom  chased 
Her  son,  with  bark  around  his  waist, 
To  the  wild  wood,  to  dwell  therein, 
And  dost  not  sorrow  for  thy  sin  ? 
The  love  I  bare  to  Raghu's  son 
Thou  knewest  not.  ambitious  one, 
If  thou  hast  wrought  this  impious  deed 
For  royal  sway,  in  lawless  greed. 
With  him  and  Lakshman  far  away, 
What  power  have  I  the  realm  to  sway  ? 
What  hope  will  fire  my  bosom,  when 

1  see  no  more  those  lords  of  men  ? 
The  holy  king  who  loved  the  right 
Relied  on  Rama's  power  and  might, 
His  guardian  and  his  glory  :  so 
Joys  Meru  in  his  woods  below. 
How  can  I  bear,  a  steer  untrained, 

The  load  his  mightier  strength  sustained? 
What  power  have  I  to  brook  alone 
This  weight  on  feeble  shoulders  thrown  ? 
But  if  the  needful  power  were  bought 
By  strength  of  mind  and  brooding  thought, 
No  triumph  shall  attend  the  dame 
Who  dooms  her  son  to  lasting  shame. 
Now  should  no  doubt  that  son  prevent 
From  quitting  thee  on  evil  bent, 
But  Rama's  love  o'erpowers  my  will, 
Who  holds  thee  as  his  mother  still. 
Whence  did  the  thought,  Qthou  whose  eyes 


Are  turned  to  sinful  deeds,  arise — 

A  plan  our  ancient  sires  would  hate, 

O  fallen  from  thy  virtuous  state  ? 

For  in  the  line  from  which  we  spring 

The  eldest  is  anointed  king  : 

No  monarchs  from  the  rule  decline, 

And,  least  of  all,  Ikshvaku's  line. 

Our  holy  sires,  to  virtue  true, 

Upon  our  race  a  lustre  threw, 

But  with  subversive  frenzy  thou 

Hast  marred  our  lineal  honour  now. 

Of  lofty  birth,  a  noble  line 

Of  previous  kings  is  also  thine  : 

Then  whence  this  hated  folly  ']  whence 

This  sudden  change  that  steals  thy  sense  ? 

Thou  shalt  not  gain  thine  impious  will, 

O  thou  whose  thoughts  are  bent  on  ill, 

Thou  from  whose  guilty  hand  descend 

These  sinful  blows  my  life  to  end. 

Now  to  the  forest  will  I  go, 

Thy  cherished  plans  to  overthrow, 

And  bring  my  brother,  free  from  stain, 

His  people's  darling,  home  again, 

And  Kiima,  when  again  he  turns, 

Whose  glory  like  a  beacon  burns, 

In  me  a  faithful  slave  shall  find 

To  serve  him  with  contented  mind.* 


CANTO  LXXIV. 


BHARAT'S  LAMENT. 

When  Bharat's  anger-sharpened  tongue 
Reproaches  on  the  queen  had  Hung, 
Again,  with  mighty  rage  possessed, 
The  guilty  dame  he  thus  addressed  : 
'Flee,  cruel,  wicked  sinner,  flee, 
Let  not  this  kingdom  herbour  thee. 
Thou  who  hast  thrown  all  right  aside, 
Weep  thou  for  me  when  I  have  died. 
Canst  thou  one  charge  against  the  king, 
Or  the  most  duteous  Rama,  bring  ? 
The  one  thy  sin  to  death  has  sent, 
The  other  chased  to  banishment. 
Our  line's  destroyer,  sin -de  filed 
Like  one  who  kills  an  unborn  child, 
Ne'er  with  thy  lord  in  heaven  to  dwell, 
Thy  portion  shall  be  down  in  hell. 
Because  thy  hand,  that  stayed  for  naught, 
This  awful  wickedness  has  wrought, 
And  ruined  him  whom  all  held  dear, 
My  bosom  too  is  stirred  with  fear, 
My  father  by  thy  sin  is  dead, 
And  Rama  to  the  wood  is  fled  ; 
And  of  thy  deed  I  bear  the  stain, 
And  fameless  in  the  world  remain. 
Ambitious,  evil-souled.  in  show 
My  mother,  yet  my  direst  foe. 
My  throning  ne'er  thine  eyes  shall  bless, 
Thy  husband's  wicked  murderess. 


Canto  LXXV. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


183 


Thou  art  not  Asvapati's  child, 
That  righteous  king,  most  sage  and  mild, 
But  thou  wast  born  a  fiend,  a  foe 
My  father's  house  to  overthrow, 
Thou  who  ha>t  made  Kausalya,  pure, 
Gentle,  affectionate,  endure 
The  loss  of  him  who  was  her  bliss,— 
What  worlds  await  thee,  Queen,  for  this  ? 
Was  it  not  patent  to  thy  sense 
That  Rama  was  his  friends'  defence, 
Kausalya's  own  true  child  most  dear, 
The  eldest  and  his  father's  peer  ? 
Men  in  the  son  not  only  trace 
The  father's  figure.,  form,  and  face, 
But  in  his  heart  they  also  find 
The  offspring  of  the  father's  mind  ; 
And  hence,  though  dear  the!  r  kinsmen  are, 
To  mothers  sons  are  dearer  far. 
There  goes  an  ancient  legend  how 
Good  Surabhi.,  the  God- loved  cow, 
Saw  two  of  her  dear  children  strain, 
Drawing  a  plough  and  faint  with  pain. 
8hesaw  them  on  the  earth  outworn, 
Toiling  till  noon  irom  early  morn, 
And  as  she  viewed  her  children's  woe, 
A  fl  iod  of  tears  began  to  flow. 
As  through  the  air  beneath  her  swept 
The  Lord  of  Gods,  the  drops  she  wept, 
Fine,  laden  with  delicious  smell, 
Upon  his  heavenly  body  fell. 
And  Indra  lifted  up  his  eyes 
And  saw  her  standing  in  the  skies, 
Afflicted  with  her  sorrow's  weight, 
Sad,  weening,  all  disconsolate. 
The  Lord  of  Gods  in  anxious  mood 
Thus  spoke  in  suppliant  attitude : 
*  No  fear  disturbs  our  rest,  and  how 
Come  this  great  dread  upon  thee  now  ? 
Whence  can  this  woe  upon  thee  fall, 
Say,  gentle  one  who  lovest  all?' 

Thus  spake  the  God  who  rules  the  skies, 
Indra,  the  Lord  supremely  wise  : 
And  gentle  Surabhi,  well  learned 
Jn  eloquence,  this  speech  returned  : 
'  Not  thine  the  fault,  great  God,  not  thine 
And  guiltless  are  the  Lords  divine  : 
I  mourn  two  children  faint  with  toil. 
Labouring  hard  in  stubborn  soil. 
Wasted  and  sad  I  see  them  now, 
While  the  sun  beats  on  neck  and  brow, 
Still  goaded  by  the  cruel  hind, — 
No  pity  in  his  savage  mind. 
O  Indra,  from  this  body  sprang 
These  children,  worn  with  many  a  pang. 
For  this  sad  sight  I  mourn,  for  none 
Is  to  the  mother  like  her  son.' 

He  saw  her  weep  whose  offspring  feed 
In  thousands  over  hill  and  mead, 
And  knew  that  in  a  mother's  eye 
Naught  with  a  son,  for  love,  can  vie. 
He  deemed  her,  when  the  tears  that  came 
13 


From  her  sad  eyes  bedewed  his  frame,    . 

Laden  with  their  celestial  scent, 

Of  living  things  most  excellent. 

If  she  these  tears  of  sorrow  shed 

Who  many  a  thousand  children  bred, 

Think  what  a  life  of  woe  is  left 

Kausalya,  of  her  Kama  reft. 

An  only  son  was  hers,  and  she 

Is  rendered  childless  now  by  thee. 

Here  and  hereafter,  for  thy  crime, 

Woe  is  thy  lot  through  endless  time. 

And  now,  O  Queen,  without  delay, 

With  all  due  honour  will  I  pay 

3  jth  to  my  brother  and  my  sire 

The  rites  their  several  fates  require. 

Back  to  Ayodhya  will  I  bring 

The  long-armed  chief,  her  lord  and  king, 

And  to  the  wood  myself  betake 

Where  hermit  saints  their  dwelling  make. 

For,  sinner  both  in  deed  and  thought ! 

This  hideous  crime  which  thou  hast  wrought 

I  cannot  bear,  or  live  to  see 

The  people's  sad  eyes  bent  on  me. 

Begone,  to  Danclak  wood  retire, 

Or  cast  thy  body  to  the  tire, 

Or  bind  around  thy  neck  the  rope  : 

No  other  refuge  mayst  thou  hope. 

When  Kama,  lord  of  valour  true, 

Has  gained  the  earth,  his  right  and  due, 

Then,  free  from  duty's  binding  debt, 

My  vanished  sin  shall  I  forget,' 

Thus  like  an  elephant  forced  to  brook 
The  goading  of  the  driver's  hook, 
Quick  panting  like  a  serpent  maimed, 
He  fell  to  earth  with  rage  inflamed. 


CANTO   LXXV. 


THE  ABJUKATION. 

A  while  he  lay  :  he  rose  at  length, 

And  slowly  gathering  sense  and  strength, 

With  angry  eyes  which  tears  bedewed, 

The  miserable  queen  he  viewed, 

And  spake  with  keen  reproach  to  her 

Before  each  lord  and  minister  : 

'  No  lust  have  I  for  kingly  sway, 

My  mother  I  no  more  obey : 

Naught  of  this  consecration  knew 

Which  Dasaratha  kept  in  view, 

I  with  Satrughna  all  the  time 

Was  dwelling  in  a  distant  clime  : 

I  knew  of  Kama's  exile  naught, 

That  hero  of  the  noble  thought : 

I  knew  not  how  fair  Sita  went, 

And  Lakshman,  forth  to  banishment.' 

Thus  high-souled  Bharat,  mid  the  crowds 
Lifted  his  voice  and  cried  aloud. 


184 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


Kausalya  heard,  she  raised  her  head, 
And  quickly  to  Sumitra  said  : 

*  Bharat,  Kaikeyi's  son  is  here,— 

Hers  whose  fell  deeds  I  loathe  and  fear  : 
That  youth  of  foresight  keen  I  fain 
Would  meet  and  see  his  face  again.' 
Thus  to  Sumitra  spake  the  dame, 
And  straight  to  Bharat's  presence  came 
With  altered  mien,  neglected  dress. 
Trembling  and  faint  with  sore  distress. 
Bharat,  &atrughna  hy  his  side, 
To  meet  her,  toward  her  palace  hied. 
And  when  the  royal  dame  they  viewed 
Distressed  with  (lire  solicitude, 
Sad.  fallen  senseless  on  the  ground, 
Ahout  her  neck  their  arms  they  wound. 
The  noble  matron  prostrate  there, 
Embraced,  with  tears,  the  weeping  pair, 
And  with  her  load  of  grief  oppressed, 
To  Bharat  then  these  words  addressed  : 

*  N7ow  all  is  thine,  without  a  foe, 
This  realm  for  which  thou  longest  so. 
Ah,  soon  Kaikeyi's  ruthless  hand 
Has  won  the  empire  of  the  land, 
And  made  my  guiltless  Rama  flee 
Dressed  like  some  lonely  devotee. 
Herein  what  profit  has  the  queen, 
Whose  eye  delights  in  havoc,  seen  ? 
Me  also,  me  'twere  surely  good 

To  banish  to  the  distantVood, 
To  dwell  amid  the  shades  that  hold 
^ly  famous  son  with  limbs  like  gold. 
Nay,  with  the  sacred  fire  to  guide, 
Will  I,  Sumitra  by  my  side, 
Myself  to  the  drear  wood  repair 
Arid  seek  the  son  of  Kaghu  there. 
This  land  which  rice  and  golden  corn 
And  wealth  of  every  kind  adorn, 
Car,  elephant,  and  steed,  and  gem,— 
She  makes  thee  lord  of  it  and  them.' 

With  taunts  like  these  her  bitter  tongue 
The  heart  of  blameless  Bharat  wrung 
And  direr  pangs  his  bosom  tore 
Than  when  the  lancet  probes  a  sore. 
With  troubled  senses  all  astray 
Prone  at  her  feet  he  fell  and  lay. 
With  loud  lament  a  while  he  plained, 
And  slowly  strength  and  sense  regained. 
With  suppliant  hand  to  hand  applied 
He  turned  to  her  who  wept  and  sighed, 
And  thus  bespake  the  queen,  whose  hreas 
With  sundry  woes  was  sore  distressed : 
'Why  these  reproaches,  noble  dame? 
J,  knowing  naught,  am  free  from  blame. 
Thou  knowe>t  well  what  love  was  mine 
For  Rama,  chief  of  Raghu's  line. 
O,  never  be  his  darkened  mind 
To  Scripture's  guiding  lore  inclined, 
By  whose  consent  the  prince  who  led 
The  good,  the  truthful  hero,  fled, 
Huy  he  obey  the  vilest  lord, 


)ffend  the  sun  with  act  abhorred.1 
Ind  strike  a  sleeping  cow,  who  lent 
I  is  voice  to  Rama's  banishment, 
lay  the  good  king  who  all  befriends, 
Ind,  like  his  sons,  the  people  tends, 
"»e  wronged  by  him  who  gave  consent 
o  noble  Rama's  banishment. 
)n  him  that  king's  injustice  fall, 
Who  takes,  as  lord,  a  sixth  of  all, 
^or  guards,  neglectful  of  his  trust, 
lis  people,  as  a  ruler  must, 
'he  crime  of  those  who  swear  to  fee, 
U  holy  rites,  some  devotee, 
\nd  then  the  promised  gift  deny, 
5e  his  who  willed  the  prince  should  fly, 

hen  weapons  clash  and  heroes  bleed, 
With  elephant  and  harnessed  steed, 
^e'er,  like  the  good,  he  his  to  fight 
Vhose  heart  allowed  the  prince's  flight. 
though  taught  with  care  by  one  expert 
A1  ay  he  the  Veda's  text  pervert, 
With  impious  mind  on  evil  bent, 
iVhose  voice  approved  the  banishment, 
day  he  with  traitor  lips  reveal 
Whate'er  he  promised  to  conceal, 
And  bruit  abroad  his  friend's  offence, 
Betrayed  by  generous  confidence. 

o  wife  of  equal  lineage  born 
The  wretch's  joyless  home  adorn  : 
S'e'er  may  he  do  one  virtuous  deed, 
And  dying  see  no  child  succeed. 
When  in  the  battle's  awful  day 
Fierce  warriors  stand  in  dread  array, 
Let  the  base  coward  turn  and  fly, 
And  smitten  by  the  foeman,  die. 
Long  may  he  wander,  rags  his  wear, 
Doomed  in  his  hand  a  skull  to  bear, 
And  like  an  idiot  beg  his  bread, 
Who  gave  consent  when  llama  fled. 
His  sin  who  holy  rites  forgets, 
Asleep  when  shows  the  sun  and  sets, 
A  load  upon  his  soul  shall  lie 
Whose  will  allowed  the  prince  to  fly. 
His  sin  who  loves  his  Master's  dame, 
His,  kindler  of  destructive  flame, 
His  who  betrays  his  trusting  friend 
Shall,  mingled  all,  on  him  descend. 
By  him  no  reverence  due  be  paid 
To  blessed  God  or  parted  shade: 
May  sire  and  mother's  sacred  name 
In  vain  from  him  obedience  claim. 
Ne'er  may  he  go  where  dwell  the  good, 
Nor  win  their  fame  and  neighbourhood, 
But  lose  all  hopes  of  bliss  to-day, 
Who  willed  the  prince  should  rlee  away, 

May  he  deceive  the  poor  and  weak 

Who  look  to  him  and  comfort  seek, 

1  Svryamclia  pratimehatit,  ad  versus  so] 
em  mingat.  An  offence  expressly  forbid 
den  by  the  Laws  of  Mauu. 


Canto  LXXVL 


THE  RAM  A?  AN. 


185 


Betray  the  suppliants  who  complain, 
And  make  the  hopeful  hope  in  vain. 
Long  may  his  wife  his  kiss  expect, 
And  pine  away  in  cold  neglect. 
May  he  his  lawful  love  despise, 
And  turn  on  other  dames  his  eyes, 
Fool,  on  forbidden  joys  intent, 
Whose  will  allowed  the  banishment. 
His  sin  who  deadly  poison  throws 
To  spoil  the  water  as  it  flows, 
Lay  on  the  wretch  its  burden  dread 
Who  gave  consent  when  Kama  fled.'1 

Thus  with  his  words  he  undeceived 
Kausalya's  troubled  heart,  who  grieved 
For  son  and  husband  reft  away; 
Then  prostrate  on  the  ground  he  lay. 
Him  as  he  lay  half -senseless  there, 
Freed  by  the  mighty  oaths  he  sware, 
Kaiisalya,  by  her  woe  distressed, 
With  melancholy  words  addressed  : 
'  Anew,  my  son,  this  sorrow  springs 
To  rend  m'y  heart  with  keener  stings  : 
These  awful  oaths  which  thou  hast  sworn 
My  breast  with  double  grief  have  torn. 
Thy  soul,  and  faithful  Lakshman's  too, 
Are  still,  thank  Heaven  !  to  virtue  true. 
True  to  thy  promise,  thou  shalt  gain 
The  mansions  which  the  good  obtain.' 

Then  to  her  breast  that  youth  she  drew, 
Whose  sweet  fraternal  love  she  knew, 
And  there  in  strict  embraces  held 
The  hero,  as  her  tears  outwelled. 
And  hharat's  heart  grew  sick  and  faint 
With  grief  and  oft-renewed  complaint, 
And  all  his  senses  were  distraught 
By  the  great  woe  that  in  him  wrought. 

'Thus  as  he  lay  and  still  bewailed 
With  sighs  and  loud  lament 

Till  all  his  strength  and  reason  failed, 
The  hours  of  night  were  spent. 

CANTO  LXXVL 


THE  FUNERAL. 

The  saint  Vasishtha,  best  of  all 
Whose  words  with  moving  wisdom  fall, 
Bharat,  Kaikeyi's  son,  addressed, 
Whom  burning  fires  of  grief  distressed  : 
'  O  Prince,  whose  fame  is  widely  spread, 
Enough  of  grief :  be  comforted. 
The  time  is  come :  arise,  and  lay 
Upon  the  pyre  the  monarch's  clay.' 

1  Bharat  does  not  intend  these  curses 
for  any  particular  person :  he  merely 
\vishes  to  prove  his  own  innocence  by  in- 
voking them  on  his  own  head  if  he  had 
acy  share  in  banishing  Riiuia. 


He  heard  the  words  Vasishtha  spoke, 
And  slumbering  resolution  woke. 
Then  skilled  in  all  the  laws  declare, 
He  bade  his  friends  the  rites  prepare. 
They  raised  the  body  from  the  oil, 
And  placed  it,  dripping,  on  the  soil ; 
Then  laid  it  on  a  bed,  whereon 
Wrought  gold  and  precious  jewels  shone, 
There,  pallor  o'er  his  features  spread, 
The  monarch,  as  in  sleep,  lay  dead. 
Then  Bharat  sought  his  father's  side, 
And  lifted  up  his  voice  and  cried  : 
'  O  King,  and  has  thy  heart  designed 
To  part  and  leave  thy  son  behind  ? 
Make  Rama  flee,  who  loves  the  right, 
And  Lakshrnan  of  the  arm  of  might? 
Whither,  great  Monarch,  wilt  thou  go 
And  leave  this  people  in  their  woe. 
Mourning  their  hero,  wild  with  grief, 
Of  Rama  reft,  their  lion  chief? 
Ah,  who  will  guard  the  people  well 
Who  in  Ayodhya's  city  dwell, 
When  thou,  my  sire,  hast  sought  the  sky, 
And  Rama  has  been  forced  to  fly  ? 
In  widowed  woe,  bereft  of  thee, 
The  land  no  more  is  fair  to  see : 
The  city,  to  my  aching  sight, 
Is  gloomy  as  a  moonless  night.' 

Thus,  with  o'erwheiming  sorrow  pained, 
Sad  Bharat  by  the  bed  complained: 
And  thus  Vasishtha,  holy  sage, 
Spoke  his  deep  anguish  to  assuage  : 
'  O  Lord  of  men.  no  longer  stay  ; 
The  last  remaining  duties  pay  : 
Haste,  mighty -armed,  as  I  advise, 
The  funeral  rites  to  solemnize.' 

And  Bharat  heard  Vasishtha's  rede 
With  due  attention  and  agreed. 
He  summoned  straight  from  every  side 
Chaplain,  and  priest,  and  holy  guide. 
The  sacred  fires  he  bade  them  bring 
Forth  from  the  chapel  of  the  king, 
Wherein  the  priests  in  order  due, 
And  ministers,  the  offerings  threw. 
Distraught  in  mind,  with  sob  and  tear, 
They  laid  the  body  on  a  bier, 

And  servants,  while  their  eyes  brimmed  o'er 

The  monarch  from  the  palace  bore. 

Another  band  of  mourners  led 

The  long  procession  of  the  dead  : 

Rich  garments  in  the  way  they  cast. 

And  gold  and  silver,  as  they  passed. 

Then  other  hands  the  corse  bedewed 

With  fragrant  juices  that  exude 

From  sandal,  cedar,  aloe,  pine. 

And  every  perfume  rare  and  fine. 

Then  priestly  hands  the  mighty  dead 

Upon  the  pyre  deposited, 

The  sa«red  fires  they  tended  next, 

And  muttered  low  each  funeral  text ; 

And  pritstly  singers  who  rehearse 


386 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


The  Saman1  sang  their  holy  verse. 
Forth  from  the  town  in  litters  came, 
Or  chariots,  many  a  royal  dame, 
And  honoured  so  the  funeral  ground, 
With  aged  followers  ringed  around. 
With  steps  in  inverse  order  bent,''5 
The  priests  in  sad  procession  went 
Around  the  monarch's  burning  pyre 
Who  well  had  nursed  each  sacred  fire  : 
With  Queen  Kausalya  and  the  rest, 
Their  tender  hearts  with  woe  distressed. 
The  voice  of  women,  shrill  and  clear 
As  screaming  curlews,  smote  the  ear, 
As  from  a  thousand  voices  rose 
The  shriek  that  tells  of  woman's  woes. 
Then  weeping,  faint,  with  loud  lament, 
Down  Sarjirs  shelving  bank  they  went. 
There  standing  on  the  river  side 

With  Bharat,  priest,  and  peer, 
Their  lips  the  women  purified 

With  water  fresh  and  clear, 
Beturning  to  the  royal  town, 

Their  eyes  with  tear-drops  filled, 
Ten  days  on  earth  they  laid  them  down, 

And  wept  till  grief  was  stilled. 

CANTO  LXXVII. 


THE  GATHERING  OF  THE  ASHES. 

The  tenth  day  passed  :  the  prince  again 

Was  free  from  every  legal  stain. 

He  bade  them  on  the  twelfth  the  great 

Remaining  honour  celebrate. 

Much  gold  he  gave,  and  gems,  and  food, 

To  all  the  Brahman  multitude, 

And  goats  whose  hair  was  white  and  fine, 

And  many  a  thousand  head  of  kine  : 

Slaves,  men  and  damsels,  he  bestowed, 

And  many  a  car  and  fair  abode  : 

Such  gifts  he  gave  the  Brahman  race 

His  father's  obsequies  to  grace. 

Then  when  the  morning's  earliest  ray 

Appeared  upon  the  thirteenth  day, 

Again  the  hero  wept  and  sighed 

Distraught  and  sorrow-stupeiied ; 

Drew,  sobbing  in  his  anguish,  near, 

The  last  remaining  debt  to  clear, 

And  at  the  bottom  of  the  pyre, 

He  thus  bespake  his  royal  sire  : 

*  O  father,  hast  thou  left  me  so, 

Deserted  in  my  friendless  woe, 

When  he  to  whom  the  charge  was  given 

To  keep  me,  to  the  wood  is  driven  ? 

Her  only  son  is  forced  away 

Who  was  his  helpless  mother's  stay  : 


1  The  Sama-veda,  the  hymns  of  which 
are  chanted  aloud. 

2  Walking  from  right  to  left, 


Ah,  whither,  father,  art  thou  fled, 
Leaving  the  queen  uncomforted?' 

He  looked  upon  the  pile  where  lay 
The  bones  half -burnt  and  ashes  grey, 
And  uttering  a  piteous  moan, 
Gave  way,  by  anguish  overthrown. 
Then  as  his  tears  began  to  well, 
Prostrate  to  earth  the  hero  fell  ; 
So  from  its  seat  the  staff  they  drag1, 
And  cast  to  earth  some  glorious  flag. 
The  ministers  approached  again 
Theprince  whom  rites  had  freed  from  stain: 
So  when  Yayati  fell,  each  seer, 
In  pity  for  his  fate,  drew  near, 
^atrughna  saw  him  lying  low 
O'erwhelmed  beneath  the  rush  of  woe, 
And  as  upon  the  king  he  thought, 
He  fell  upon  the  earth  distraught. 
When  to  his  loving  memory  came 
Those  noble  gifts,  that  kingly  frame, 
He  sorrowed,  by  his  woe  distressed, 
As  one  by  frenzied  rage  possessed  : 
'  Ah  me,  this  surging  sea  of  woe 
Has  drowned  us  with  its  overflow  : 
The  source  is  Manthara,  dire  and  dark, 
Kaikeyi  is  the  ravening  shark  : 
And  the  great  boons  the  monarch  gave 
Lend  conquering  might  to  every  wave. 
Ah,  whither  wilt  thou  go,  and  leave 
Thy  Bharat  in  his  woe  to  grieve, 
Whom  ever  'twas  thy  greatest  joy 
To  fondle  as  a  tender  boy  ? 
Didst  thou  not  give  with  thoughtful  care 
Our  food,  our  drink,  our  robes  to  wear  ? 
Whose  love  will  now  for  us  provide, 
When  thou,  our  kin«r  and  sire,  hast  died? 
At  such  a  time  bereft,  forlorn, 
Why  is  not  earth  in  sunder  torn, 
Missing  her  monarch's  firm  control, 
His  love  of  right,  his  lofty  soul  ? 
Ah  me,  for  Rama  roams  afar, 
My  sire  is  where  the  Blessed  are : 
How  can  I  Jive  deserted?  I 
Will  pass  into  the  fire  and  die. 
Abandoned  thus,  I  will  not  brook 
Upon  Ayodhya's  town  to  look, 
Once  guarded  by  Ikshvaku's  race  ; 
The  wood  shall  be  my  dwelling-place.' 

Then  when  the  princes'  mournful  train 
Heard  the  sad  brothers  thus  complain, 
And  saw  their  misery,  at  the  view 
Their  grief  burst  wilder  oat  anew. 
Faint  with  lamenting,  sud  and  worn, 
Each  like  a  bull  with  broken  horn, 
The  brothers  in  their  wild  despair 
Lay  rolling,  mad  with  misery,  there, 
Then  old  Vasishtha  good  and  true, 
Their  father's  priest,  all  lore  who  knew, 
Raised  weeping  Bharat  on  his  feet, 
And  thus  bespake  with  counsel  meet : 
'  Twelve  days,  my  lord,  have  past  away 


Canto  LXXVIII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


187 


Since  flames  consumed  thy  father's  clay  : 
Delay  no  more' :  as  rules  ordain, 
Gather  what  bones  may  yet  remain. 
tThree  constant  pairs  are  ever  found 
To  hem  all  mortal  creatures  round  :l 
Then  mourn  not  thus,  O  Prince,  for  none 
Their  close  companionship  may  shun.' 

Sumantra  bade  Satrughna  rise, 
And  soothed  his  soul  with  counsel  wise, 
And  skilled  in  truth,  Ins  hearer  taught 
How  all  things  are  and  come  to  naught. 
When  rose  each  hero  from  the  ground, 
A  lion  lord  of  men,  renowned, 
He  showed  like  Indra's  flag,2  whereon 
Fierce  rains  have  dashed  and  suns  have 

shone. 

They  wiped  their  red  and  weeping  eyes, 
And  gently  made  their  sad  replies  ; 
Then,  urged  to  haste,  the  royal  pair 
Performed  the  rites  that  claimed  their  care 


CANTO  LXXVllf. 


MANTHARA  PUNISHED. 

Satrughna  thus  to  Bharat  spake 
Who  longed  the  forest  road  to  take  : 
'  He  who  in  woe  was  wont  to  give 
Strength  to  himself  and  all  that  live — - 
Dear  Kama,  true  and  pure  in  heart, 
Is  banished  by  a  woman's  art. 
Yet  here  was  Lakshman,  brave  and  strong, 
Could  not  his  might  prevent  the  wrong  ? 
Could  not  his  arm  the  king  restrain, 
Or  make  the  banished  free  again  ? 
One  loving  right  arid  fearing  crime 
Had  checked  the  monarch's  sin  in  time, 
When,  vassal  of  a  woman's  will, 
His  feet  approached  the  path  of  ill.' 
While  Lakshman's   younger   brother, 

dread 

Satrughna,  thus  to  Bharat  said, 
Came  to  the  fronting  door,  arrayed 
In  glittering  robes,  the  hump-back  maid. 
There  she,  with  sandal-oil  besmeared, 
In  garments  meet  for  queens  appeared  : 
And  lustre  to  her  form  was  lent 
By  many  a  gem  and  ornament. 
She  girdled  with  her  broiderect  zone, 
And  many  a  chain  about  her  thrown, 
Showed  like  a  female  monkey  round 
Whose  body  many  a  string  is  bound. 
When  on  thatjcause  of  evil  fell 
The  quick;|eye  of  the  sentinel, 


1  Birth  and  death,  pleasure  and  pain, 
loss  and  gain. 

. z  Pkected^upom  a  tree  or  high  staff  in 
honour  of  Indra. 


He  grasped  her  in  his  ruthless  hold, 
And  hastening  in,  Satrughna  told  : 

*  Hei'e'  is  the  wicked  pest,'  he  cried, 

*  Through  whom  the  king  thy  father  died, 
And  Kama  wanders  in  the  wood  : 

Do  with  her  as  thou  deemest  good.' 
The  warder  spoke  :  and  every  word 
^atrughna's  breast  to  fury  stirred  : 
He  called  the  servants,  all  and  each, 
And  spake  in  wrath  his  hasty  speech  : 
'  This  is  the  wretch  my  sire  who  slew. 
And  misery  on  my  brothers  drew  : 
Let  her  this  day  obtain  the  meed, 
Vile  sinner,  of  her  cruel  deed.' 
He  spake  ;  and  moved  by  fury  laid 
His  mighty  hand  upon  the  maid, 
Who  as  her  fellows  ringed  her  round, 
Made  with  her  Cries  the  hall  resound. 
Soon  as  the  gathered  women  viewed 
^atrughaa  in  his  angry  mood, 
Their  hearts  disturbed  by  sudden  dread, 
They  turned  and  from  his  presence  fled. 
'  His  rage,'  they  cried,  '  on  us  will  fall, 
And  ruthless,  he  will  slay  us  all. 
Come,  to  Kausalya  let  us  flee  : 
Our  hope,  our  sure  defence  is  she, 
Approved  by  all,  of  virtuous  mind, 
Compassionate,  and  good,  and  kind.' 
His  eyes  with  burning  wrath  aglow, 
Satrughna,  shatterer  of  the  foe, 
Dragged  on  the  ground  the  hump-back 
maid 

Who  shrieked  aloud  and  screamed  for  aid. 

This  way  and  that  with  no  remorse 
tie  dragged  her  with  resistless  force, 

And  chains  and  glittering  trinkets  burst 
Lay  here  and  there  with  gems  dispersed, 

Till  like  the  sky  of  Autumn  shone 

The  palace  floor  they  sparkled  on. 

The  lord  of  men,  supremely  strong1, 
laled  in  his  rage  the  wretch  along  : 

Where  Queen  Kaikeyi  dwelt  he  came, 

And  sternly  then  addressed  the  dame. 
Deep  in  her  heart  Kaikeyi  felt 
Fhe  stabs  his  keen  reproaches  dealt, 

And  of  ^atrughria's  ire  afraid, 
To  Bharat  flew  and  cried  for  aid. 
le  looked  and  saw  the  prince  inflamed 

With  burning  rage,  and  thus  exclaimed  : 
Forgive  !  thine  angry  arm  restrain  : 

A  woman  never  may  be  slain. 

My  hand  Kaikeyi's  blood  would  spill, 
Phe  sinner  ever  bent  on  ill, 
But  Rama,  long  in  duty  tried, 

Would  hate  the  impious  matricide: 

And  if  he  knew  thy  vengeful  blade 
lad  slaughtered  e'en  this  hump-backmaid. 

Never  again,  be  sure,  would  he 

Speak  friendly  word  to  thee  or  me.' 
When  Bharat's  speech  Satrughna  heard 

Ie  calmed  the  rage  his  breast  that  stirred, 


188 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool:  II. 


Releasing  from  her  dire  constraint 
The  trembling  wretch  with  terror  faint. 
Then  to  Kaikeyi's  feet  she  crept, 
And  prostrate  in  her  misery  wept. 
Kaikeyi  on  the  hump-back  gazed, 

And  saw  her  weep  and  gasp, 
Still  quivering,  with  her  senses  dazed, 

From  fierce  Satru^hna's  grasp. 
With  gentle  words  of  pity  she 

Assuaged  her  wild  despair, 
E'en  as  a  tender  hand  might  free 

A  curlew  from  the  snare. 


CANTO  LXXIX. 


BHARAT'S  COMMANDS. 

Now  when  the  sun's  returning  ray 
Had  ushered  in  the  fourteenth  day, 
The  gathered  peers  of  state  addressed 
To  Bharat's  ear  their  new  request : 
'  Our  lord  to  heaven  has  parted  hence, 
Long  served  with  deepest  reverence  ; 
Rama,  the  eldest,  far  from  home, 
And  Lakshman,  in  the  forest  roam. 
O  Prince,  of  mighty  fame,  be  thou 
Our  guardian  and  our  monarch  now, 
Lest  secret  plot  or  foeman's  hate 
Assail  our  unprotected  state. 
With  longing  eyes,  0  Lord  of  men, 
To  thee  look  friend  and  citizen, 
And  ready  is  each  sacred  thing 
To  consecrate  our  chosen  king. 
Come,  Bharat,  and  accept  thine  own 
Ancient  hereditary  throne. 
Thee  let  the  priests  this  day  install 
As  monarch  to  preserve  us  all.' 

Around  the  sacred  gear  he  bent 
His  circling  footsteps  reverent, 
And,  firm  to  vows  he  would  not  break, 
Thus  to  the  gathered  people  spake  : 
'  The  eldest  son  is  ever  king  : 
80  rules  the  house  from  which  we  spring 
Nor  should  ye.  Lords,  like  men  unwise, 
With  words  like  these  to  wrong  advise. 
Kama  is  eldest  born,  and  he 
The  ruler  of  the  land  shall  be. 
Now  to  the  woods  will  I  repair, 
Five  years  and  nine  to  lodge  me  there. 
Assemble  straight  a  mighty  force, 
Cars,  elephants,  and  foot  and  horse, 
For  I  will  follow  on  his  track 
And  bring  my  eldest  brother  back. 
Whate'er  the  rites  of  throning  need 
Placed  on  a  car  the  way  shall  lead : 
The  sacred  vessels  I  will  take 
To  the  wild  wood  for  Rama's  sake. 
I  o'er  the  lion  prince's  head 
The  sanctifying  balm  will  shed, 
And  bring  him,  as  the  tire  they  bring 


Forth  from  the  shrine,  with  triumphing. 
Nor  will  I  let  my  mother's  greed 
In  this  her  cherished  aim  succeed  : 
In  pathless  wilds  will  I  remain, 
And  Rama  here  as  king  shall  reign. 
To  make  the  rough  ways  srnooth  and  clear 
Send  workman  out  and  pioneer  : 
Let  skilful  men  attend  beside 
Our  way  through  pathless  spots  to  guide.' 
As  thus  the  royal  Bharat  spake, 
Ordaining  all  for  Kama's  sake, 
The  audience  gave  with  one  accord 
Auspicious  answer  to  their  lord: 
4  lie  royal  Fortune  aye  benign 
To  thee  for  this  good  speech  of  thine, 
Who  wishest  still  thine  elder's  hand 
To  rule  with  kingly  sway  the  land.' 
Their  glorious  speech,  their  favouring 

cries 

M  ade  his  proud  bosom  swell : 
And  from  the  prince's  noble  eyes 

The  tears  of  rapture  fell.1 

CANTO  LXXX. 


THE  WAY  PREPARED. 

All  they  who  knew  the  joiner's  art, 
Or  distant  ground  in  every  part  ; 
Fach  busied  in  his  several  trade, 
To  work  machines  or  ply  the  spade; 
Deft  workmen  skilled  to  frame  the  wheel, 
Or  with  the  ponderous  engine  deal ; 
Guides  of  the  way,  and  craftsmen  skilled, 
To  sink  the  well,  make  bricks,  and  build  ; 
And  those  whose  hands  the  tree  could  hew, 
And  work  with  slins  of  cut  bamboo, 
Went  forward,  ana  to  guide  them,  they 
Whose  eyes  before  had  seen  the  way. 
Then  onward  in  triumphant  mood 
Went  all  the  mighty  multitude, 
Like  the  great  sea  whose  waves  leap  high 
When  the  full  moon  is  in  the  sky. 
Then,  in  his  proper  duty  skilled, 
Each  joined  him  to  his  several  guild, 
And  onward  in  advance  they  went 
With  every  tool  and  implement. 
Where  bush  and  tangled  creeper  lay 
With  trenchant  steel  they  made  the  way  ; 
They  felled  each  stump,  removed  each 

stone, 

And  many  a  tree  was  overthrown. 
In  other  spots,  on  desert  lands. 
Tall  trees  were  reared  by  busy  hands. 
Where'er  the  line  of  road  they  took, 
They  plied  the  hatchet,  axe,  and  hook. 

'  I  follow  in  this  stanza  the  Bombay 
edition  in  preference  to  Schlegel's  whicii 
gives  the  tears  of  joy  to  the  courtiers. 


Canto  LXXXL 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


189 


Others,  with  all  their  strength  applied, 
Cast  /igorous  plants  and  shrubs  aside, 
In  shelving  valleys  rooted  deep, 
And  levelled  every  dale  and  steep. 
Bach  pit  and  hole  that  stopped  the  way 
They  filled  with  stones,  and  mud,  and  clay, 
And  ail  the  ground  that  rose  and  fell 
With  busy  care  was  levelled  well. 
They  bridged  ravines  with  ceaseless  toil, 
And  pounded  fine  the  flinty  soil, 
ttow  here,  now  there,  to  right  and  left, 
A  passage  through  the  ground  they  cleft, 
And  soon  the  rushing  flood  was  led 
Abundant  through  the  new-cut  bed, 
Which  by  the  running  stream  supplied 
With  ocean's  boundless  waters  vied. 
In  dry  arid  thirsty  spots  they  sank 
Full  many  a  well  and  ample  tank, 
And  altars  round  about  them  placed 
To  deck  the  station  in  the  waste. 
With  well -wrought  plaster  smoothly  spread. 
With  bloomy  trees  that  rose  o'erhead, 
With  banners  waving  in  the  air, 
And  wild  birds  singing  here  and  there, 
With  fragrant  sandal -water  wet, 
With  many  a  flower  beside  it  set, 
Like  the  Gods'  heavenly  pathway  showed 
That  mighty  host's  imperial  road. 
Deft  workmen,  chosen  for  their  skill 
To  do  the  high-souled  Bharat's  will, 
In  every  pleasant  spot  where  grew 
Trees  of  sweet  fruit  and  fair  to  view, 
As  he  commanded,  toiled  to  grace 
With  all  delights  his  camping-place. 
And  they  who  read  the  stars,  and  well 
Each  lucky  sign  and  hour  could  tell, 
Raised  carefully  the  tented  shade 
Wherein  high-minded  Bharat  stayed. 
With  ample  space  of  level  ground, 
With  broad  deep  moat  encompassed  round; 
Like  Mandar  in  his  towering  pride, 
With  streets  that  ran  from  side  to  side  ; 
Enwreathed  with  many  a  palace  tall 
Surrounded  by  its  noble  wall ; 
With  roads  by  skilful  workmen  made, 
Where  many  a  glorious  banner  played  ; 
With  stately  mansions,  where  the  dove 
Sat  nestling  in  her  cote  above. 
Rising  aloft  supremely  fair 
Like  heavenly  cars  that  float  in  air, 
Ea3h  camp  in  beauty  and  in  bliss 
Matched  Indra's  own  metropolis.  ^ 
As  shines  the  heaven  on  some  fair  night 
With  moon  and  constellations  filled, 
The  prince's  royal  road  was  bright, 
Adorned  by  art  of  workmen  skilled. 


CANTO  LXXXL 


THE  ASSEMBLY. 

Ere  yet  the  dawn  had  ushered  in 
The  day  should  see  the  march  begin, 
Herald  and  bard  who  rightly  knew 
Each  ni3e  degree  of  honour  due, 
Their  loud  auspicious  voices  raised, 
And  royal  Bharat  blessed  and  praised. 
With  sticks  of  gold  the  drum  they  smote, 
Which  thundered  out  its  deafening  note, 
Blew  loud  the  sounding  shell,  and  blent 
Each  high  and  low -toned  instrument. 
The  mingled  sound  of  drum  and  horn 
Through  all  the  air  was  quickly  borne, 
And  as  in  Bharat's  ear  it  rang, 
Gave  the  sad  prince  another  pang. 

Then  Bharat,  starting  from  repose, 
Stilled  the  glad  sounds  that  round  him  rose, 
'  I  am  not  king  :  no  more  mistake  : ' 
Then  to  Satrughna  thus  he  spake  : 
'  O  see  what  general  wrongs  succeed 
Sprung  from  Kaikeyi's  evil  deed! 
Dhe  king  my  sire  has  died  and  thrown 
<>esh  miseries  on  me  alone. 
?he  royal  bliss,  on  duty  based, 
Which' our  just  high-souled  father  graced, 
Wanders  in  doubt  and  sore  distress 
_,ike  a  tossed  vessel  rudderless. 
And  he  who  was  our  lordly  stay 
Roams  in  the  forest  far  away, 
Expelled  by  this  my  mother,  who 
To  duty's  law  is  most  untrue.' 

As  royal  Bharat  thus  gave  vent 
To  bitter  grief  in  wild  lament, 
Gazing  upon  his  face  the  crowd 
Of  pitying  women  wept  aloud. 
His  lamentation  scarce  was  o'er, 
When  Saint  Vasishtha,  skilled  in  lore 
Of  royal  duty,  dear  to  fame, 
To  join  the  great  assembly  came. 
Girt  by  disciples  ever  true 
Still  nearer  to  that  hall  he  drew, 
Resplendent,  heavenly  to  behold, 
Adorned  with  wealth  of  gems  and  gold : 
E'en  so  a  man  in  duty  tried 
Draws  near  to  meet  his  virtuous  bride. 
He  reached  his  golden  seat  o'eiiaid 
With  coverlet  of  rich  brocade, 
There  sat,  in  all  the  Vedas  read, 
And  called  the  messengers,  and  said  : 
4  Go  forth,  let  Brahman,  Warrior,  peer, 
And  every  captain  gather  here  : 
Let  all  attentive  hither  throng  : 

to,  hasten:  we  delay  too  long, 
atrughna,  glorious  Bharat  bring, 
The  noble  children  of  the  king^ 

i  The    commentator   says    '  batrughna 
accompanied  by  the  other  sons  of  the  king. 


190 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


tioolc  II. 


Yudhajit1  and  Sumantra,  all 
The  truthful  and  the  virtuous  call.' 
He  ended  :  soon  a  mighty  sound 
Of  thickening  tumult  rose  around, 
As  to  the  hall  they  bent  their  course 
With  car,  and  elephant,  and  horse, 
The  people  all  with  glad  acclaim 
Welcomed  Prince  Bliarat  as  he  came  : 
E'en  as  they  loved  their  king  to  greet, 
Or  as  the  Gods  Lord  Indra2  meet. 
The  vast  assembly  shone  as  fair 

With  Bharat's  kingly  face 
As  Dasaratha's  self  were  there 

To  glorify  the  place.- 
It  gleamed  like  some  unruffled  lake 

Where  monsters  huge  of  mould 
With  many  a  snake  their  pastime  take 
O'er  shells,  sand,  gems,  and  gold. 


CANTO  LXXXIL 


THE  DEPARTURE. 

The  prudent  prince  the  assembly  viewed 
Thronged  with  its  noble  multitude, 
Resplendent  as  a  cloudless  night 
When  the  full  moon  is  in  his  "height ; 
While  robes  of  every  varied  hue 
A  glory  o'er  the  synod  threw. 
The  priest  in  lore  of  duty  skilled 
Looked  on  the  crowd  the  hall  that  tilled, 
And  then  in  accents  soft  and  grave 
To  Bharat  thus  his  counsel  gave  : 
'  The  king,  dear  son,  so  good  and  wise, 
Has  gone  from  earth  and  gained  the  skies, 
Leaving  to  thee,  her  rightful  lord, 
This  rich  wide  land  with  foison  stored. 
And  still  has  faithful  Rama  stood 
Firm  to  the  duty  of  the  good, 
And  kept  his  father's  hest  aright, 
As  the  c?oon  keeps  its  own  dear  light. 
Thus  sire  and  brother  yield  to  thee 
This  realm  from  all  annoyance  free  : 
Rejoice  thy  lords  :  enjoy  thine  own : 
Anointed  king,  ascend  the  throne. 
Let  vassal  Princes  hasten  forth 
From  distant  lands,  west,  south,  and  north, 
From  Kerala,3  from  every  sea, 
And  bring  ten  million  gems  to  thee.' 
As  thus  the  sage  Vasishtha  spoke, 
A  storm  of  grief  o'er  Bharat  broke. 
And  longing  to  be  just  and  true, 

1  Not  Bharat's  uncle, but  somecouncillor. 

*  Satakratu,  Lord  of  a  hundred  sacrifices, 
the  performance  of  a  hundred  Asvamedhas 
or  sacrifices  of  a  horse  entitling  the  sacri- 
ficer  to  this  exalted  dignity. 

8  The  modern  Malabar. 


His  thoughts  to  duteous  Rama  flew. 

With  sobs  arid  sighs  and  broken  tones, 

E'en  as  a  wounded  mallard  moans, 

He  mourned  with  deepest  sorrow  moved, 

And  thus  the  holy  priest  reproved : 

'  O,  how  can  such  as  Bharat  dare 

The  power  and  sway  from  him  to  tear, 

Wise,  and  devout,  and  true,  and  chaste, 

With  Scripture  lore  and  virtue  graced? 

Can  one  of  Dasaratha's  seed 

Be  guilty  of  so  vile  a  deed  ? 

The  realm  and  I  are  Kama's:  thou 

Shouldst  speak  the  words  of  justice  now. 

For  he,  to  claims  of  virtue  true, 

Is  eldest  born  and  noblest  too  : 

Nahush,  Dilipa  could  not  be 

More  famous  in  their  lives  than  he. 

As  Dasaratha  ruled  of  right, 

So  Rama's  is  the  power  and  right. 

If  I  should  do  this  sinful  deed 

And  forfeit  hope  of  heavenly  meed, 

My  guilty  act  would  dim  the  shine 

Of  old  Ikshvaku's  glorious  line. 

Nay,  as  the  sin  my  mother  wrought 

Is  grievous  to  my  inmost  thought, 

I  here,  my  hands  together  laid, 

Will  greet  him  in  the  pathless  shade. 

To  Rama  shall  my  steps  be  bent, 

My  King,  of  men  most  excellent, 

Raghu's  illustrious  son,  whose  sway 

Might  hell,  and  earth,  and  heaven  obey.' 

That  righteous  speech,  whose  every  word 
Bore  virtue's  stamp,  the  audience  heard  ; 
On  Rama  every  thought  was  set, 
And  with  glad  tears  each  eye  was  wet. 
Then,  if  the  power  I  still  should  lack 
To  bring  my  noble  brother  back, 
[  in  the  wood  will  dwell,  and  share 
3 is  banishment  with  Lakshman  there. 
3y  every  art  persuasive  I 
To  bring  hirn  from  the  wood  will  try, 
And  show  him  to  your  loving  eyes. 
3  Brahmans  noble,  good,  and  wise. 
E'en  now,  the  road  to  make  and  clear, 
Sach  labourer  pressed,  and  pioneer 
lave  I  sent  forward  to  precede 
['he  army  I  resolve  to  lead.' 

Thus,  by  fraternal  love  possessed, 
3is  firm  resolve  the  prince  expressed, 
hen  to  Sumantra,  deeply  read 
n  holy  texts,  he  turned  and  said  : 
Sumantra,  rise  without  delay, 
nd  as  1  bid  my  words  obey. 
ive  orders  for  the  march  with  speed, 
.nd  all  the  army  hither  lead.' 
The  wise  Sumantra,  thus  addressed, 
beyed  the  high-souled  chief's  behest, 
le  hurried  forth  with  joy  inspired 
Ind  gave  the  orders  he  desired. 
)elight  each  soldier's  bosom  filled, 
And  through  each  chief  and  captain  thrilled, 


Canto  LXXXIIL 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


191 


To  hear  that  march  proclaimed,  to  bring 
.Hear  llama  back  from  wandering". 
From  house  to  house  the  tidings  flew  ; 
Each  soldier's  wife  the  order  knew, 
And  as  she  listened  blithe  and  gay 
Her  husband  urged  to  speed  away. 
Captain  and  soldier  soon  declared 
The  host  equipped  and  all  prepared 
With  chariots  matching  thought  for  speed 
And  wagons  drawn  by  ox  and  steed. 
When  Bharat  by  Vasishtha's  side, 
His  ready  host  of  warriors  eyed. 
Thus  in  Sumantra's  ear  he  spoke  : 
*  My  car  and  horses  quickly  yoke.' 
Surnantra  hastened  to  fulfil 
With  ready  jov  his  master's  will, 
And  quickly  with  the  chariot  sped 
Drawn  by  fleet  horses  nobly  bred. 
Then  glorious  Bharat,  true,  devout, 
Whose  genuine  valour  none  could  doubt. 
Gave  in  fit  words  his  order  out ; 
For  he  would  seek  the  shade 
Of  the  great  distant  wood,  and  there 
Win  his  dear  brother  with  his  prayer  : 
'  Surnantra,  haste  !  my  will  declare 

The  host  be  all  arrayed. 
I  to  the  wood  my  way  will  take, 
To  Rama  supplication  make, 
And  for  the  world's  advantage  sake, 
Will  lead  him  home  again.' 
Then,  ordered  thus,  the  charioteer 
Who  listened  with  delighted  ear, 
Went  forth  and  gave  his  orders  clear 

To  captains  of  the  train. 
He  gave  the  popular  chiefs  the  word, 
And  with  the  news  his  friends  he  stirred, 
And  not  a  single  man  deferred 

Preparing  for  the  road. 
Then  Brahman,  Warrior,  Merchant,  thrall, 
Obedient  to  Sumantra's  call, 
Each  in  his  house  arose,  and  all 
Yoked  elephant  or  camel  tall, 
Or  ass  or  noble  steed  in  stall, 

And  full  appointed  showed. 


CANTO  LXXXIIL 


THE  JOURNEY  BEGUN. 

Then  Bharat  rose  at  early  morn, 

And  in  his  noble  chariot  borne 

Drove  forward  at  a  rapid  pace 

Eager  to  look  on  Rama's  face. 

The  priests  and  lords,  a  fair  array, 

In  sun -bright  chariots  led  the  way. 

Behind,  a  well  appointed  throng, 

Nine  thousand  elephants  streamed  along. 

Then  sixty  thousand  cars,  and  then, 

With  various  arms,  came  fighting  men. 

A  hundred  thousand  archers  showed 


In  lengthened  line  the  steeds  they  rode—' 
A  mighty  host,  the  march  to  grace 
Of  Bharat,  pride  of  Raghu's  race. 
Kaikeyi  and  Sumitra  came, 
And  good  Kausalya,  dear  to  fame  : 
By  hopes  of  Rama's  coming  cheered 
They  in  a  radiant  car  appeared. 
On  fared  the  noble  host  to  see 
Rama  and  Lakshmaij,  wild  with  glee, 
And  still  each  other's  ear  to  please, 
Of  Rama  spoke  in  words  like  these  : 
*  When  shall  our  happy  eyes  behold 
Our  hero  true,  and  pure,  and  bold, 
So  lustrous  dark,  so  strong  of  arm, 
Who  keeps  the  world  from  woe  and  harm  ? 
The  tears  that  now  our  eyeballs  dim 
Will  vanish  at  the  sight  of  him, 
As  the  whole  world's  black  shadows  fly 
When  the  bright  sun  ascends  the  sky.' 
Conversing  tnus  their  way  pursued 
The  city's  joyous  multitude, 
And  each  in  mutual  rapture  pressed 
A  friend  or  neighbour  to  his  breast* 
Thus  every  man  of  high  renown, 
And  every  merchant  of  the  town, 
And  leading  subjects,  joyous  went 
Toward  Rama  in  his  banishment. 
And  those  who  worked  the  potter's  wheel, 
And  artists  skilled  in  gems  to  deal  ; 
And  masters  of  the  weaver's  art, 
And  those  who  shaped  the  sword  and  dart ; 
And  they  who  golden  trinkets  made, 
And  those  who  plied  the  fuller's  trade  ; 
And  servants  trained  the  bath  to  heat, 
And  they  who  dealt  in  incense  sweet ; 
Physicians  in  their  business  skilled. 
And  those  who  wine  and  mead  distilled  ; 
And  workmen  deft  in  glass  who  wrought, 
And  those  whose  snares  the  peacock  caught; 
With  them  who  bored  the  ear  for  rings, 
Or  sawed,  or  fashioned  ivory  things  : 
And  those  who  knew  to  mix  cement, 
Or  lived  by  sale  of  precious  scent ; 
And  men  who  washed,  and  men  who  sewed, 
And  thralls  who  mid  the  herds  abode  ; 
And  fishers  of  the  flood,  and  they 
Who  played  and  sang,  and  women  gay  j 
And  virtuous  Brahmaus,  Scripture-wise, 
Of  life  approved  in  all  men's  eyes  ; 
These  swelled  the  prince's  lengthened  train, 
Borne  each  in  car  or  bullock  wain. 
Fair  were  the  robes  they  wore  upon 
Their  limbs  where  red-hued  unguents  shone. 
These  all  in  various  modes  conveyed 
Their  journey  after  Bharat  made  ; 
The  soldiers'  hearts  with  rapture  glowed, 
Following  Bharat  on  his  road 
Their  chief  whose  tender  love  would  fain 
Bring  his  dear  brother  home  again. 
With  elephant,  and  horse,  and  car, 
The  vast  procession  travelledjfar, 


192 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  II. 


And  came  where  Ganga's  waves  below 

The  town  of  Sringavera1  flow. 

There,  with  his  friends  and  kinsmen  nigh, 

Dwelt  Guha,  Rama's  dear  ally, 

Heroic  guardian  of  the  land 

With  dauntless  heart  and  ready  hand. 

There  for  a  while  the  mighty  force 

That  followed  Bharat  stayed  its  course, 

Gazing  on  Ganga's  bosom  stirred 

By  many  a  graceful  water-bird. 

When  Bharat  viewed  his  followers  there, 

And  Ganga's  water,  blest  and  fair, 

The  prince,  who  lore  of  words  possessed, 

His  councillors  and  lords  addressed: 

*  The  captains  of  the  army  call  : 

Proclaim  this  day  a  halt  for  all, 

That  so  to-morrow,  rested,  we 

May  cross  this  flood  that  seeks  the  sea. 

Meanwhile,  descending  to  the  shore, 

The  funeral  stream  I  fain  would  pour 

From  Ganga's  fair  auspicious  tide 

To  him,  my  father  glorified.' 

Thus  Bharat  spoke  :  each  peer  and  lord 
Approved  his  words  with  one  accord, 
And  bade  the  weary  troops  repose 
In  separate  spots  where'er  they  chose. 
There  by  the  mighty  stream  that  day, 
Most  glorious  in  its  vast  array 
The  prince's  wearied  army  lay 

In  various  groups  reclined. 
There  Bharat's  hours  of  night  were  spent, 
While  every  eager  thought  he  bent 
On  bringing  home  from  banishment 
His  brother,  great  of  mind. 


CANTO  LXXXIV. 


GUHAS  ANGER. 

King  Guha  saw  the  host  spread  o'er 
The  wide  expanse  of  Ganga's  shore, 
With  waving  flag  and  pennon  graced, 
And  to  his  followers  spoke  in  haste  : 
4  A  mighty  army  meets  my  eyes, 
That  rivals  Ocean's  self  in  size  : 
Where'er  I  look  my  very  mind 
No  limit  to  the  host  can  find. 
Sure  Bharat  with  some  evil  thought 
His  army  to  our  land  has  brought. 
See,  huge  of  form,  his  flag  he  rears, 
That  like  an  Ebony-tree  appears. 
He  comes  with  bonds  to  take  and  chain, 
Or  triumph  o'er  our  people  slain  : 
And  after.  Rama  will  he  slay, — 
Him  whom  his  father  drove  away  : 
The  power  complete  he  longs  to  gain. 
And — task  too  hard — usurp  the  reign. 


1  Now 

district. 


Sungroor,    in   the   Allahabad 


So  Bharat  comes  with  wicked  will 
His  brother  Rama's  blood  to  spill. 
But  Rama's  slave  and  friend  am  I; 
He  is  my  lord  and  dear  ally. 
Keep  here  your  watch  in  arms  arrayed 
Near  Ganga's  flood  to  lend  him  aid. 
And  let  my  gathered  servants  stand 
And  line  with  troops  the  river  strand. 
Here  let  the  river  keepers  meet. 
Who  fle*h  and  roots  and  berries  eat ; 
A  hundred  fishers  man  each  boat 
Of  the  five  hundred  here  afloat, 
And  let  the  youthful  and  the  strong 
Assemble  in  defensive  throng. 
But  yet,  if,  free  from  guilty  thought 
'Gainst  Rama,  he  this  land  have  sought, 
The  prince's  happy  host  to  day 
Across  the  flood  shall  make  its  way.' 

He  spoke :  then  bearing  in  a  dish 
A  gift  of  honey,  meat,  and  fish, 
The  king  of  the  Nishadas  drew 
Toward  Bharat  for  an  interview. 
When  Bharat's  noble  charioteer 
Observed  the  monarch  hastening  near, 
He  duly,  skilled  in  courteous  lore, 
The  tidings  to  his  master  bore  : 
*  This  aged  prince  who  hither  bends 
His  footsteps  with  a  thousand  friends, 
Knows,  firm  ally  of  Rama,  all 
That  may  in  Dandak  wood  bf  fall I : 
Therefore,  Kakutstha's  son,  admit 
The  monarch,  as  is  right  and  fit: 
For  doubtless  he  can  clearly  tell 
Where  Kama  now  and  Lakshman  dwell.' 

When  Bharat  heard  Sumantra*'s  rede, 
To  his  fair  words  the  prince  agreed  : 
'Go  quickly  forth,'  he  cried,  'and  bring 
Before  my  face  the  aged  king.' 
King  Guha,  with  his  kinsmen  near, 
Rejoiced  the  summoning  to  hear : 
He  nearer  drew,  bowed  low  his  head, 
And  thus  to  royal  Bharat  said  : 
'No  mansions  can  our  country  boast, 
And  unexpected  comes  thy  host : 
But  what  we  have  1  give  thee  all : 
Rest  in  the  lodging  of  thy  thrall. 
See.  the  Nishadas  here  have  brought 
The  fruit  and  roots  their  hands  have  sought: 
And  we  have  woodland  fare  beside, 
And  store  of  meat  both  fresh  and  dried. 
To  rest  their  weary  limbs,  I  pray 
This  night  at  least  thy  host  may  stay: 
Then  cheered  with  all  we  can  bestow 
To-morrow  thou  with  it  mayst  go.' 


CANTO  LXXXV. 


GUHA  AND  BHARAT. 


Thus  the  Nishadas'  king  besought  : 
The  prince  with  spirit  wisdom-fraught 


Canto  LXXXVI. 


THE  RAMA  Y AN. 


193 


Replied  in  seemly  words  that  blent 

Deep  matter  with  the  argument: 

'  Thou,  friend  of  him  whom  I  revere, 

With  honours  high  hast  met  me  here, 

For  thou  alone  wouldst  entertain 

And  feed  to-day  so  vast  a  train.' 

In  such  fair  words  the  prince  replied, 

Then,  pointing  to  the  path  he  cried : 

'  Which  way  aright  will  lead  my  feet 

To  Bharadvaja's  calm  retreat ; 

For  all  this  land  near  Ganga  s  streams 

Pathless  and  hard  to  traverse  seems  ? ' 

Thus  spoke  the  prince  :  King  Guha  heard 
Delighted  every  prudent  word, 
And  gazing  on  that  forest  wide, 
Raised  suppliant  hands,  and  thus  replied: 
'  My  servants,  all  the  ground  who  know, 

0  glorious  Prince,  with  thee  shall  go 
With  constant  care  thy  way  to  guide, 
And  I  will  journey  by  thy  side. 

But  this  thy  host  so  wide  d is p read 
Wakes  in  my  heart  one  doubt  and  dread, 
Lest,  threatening  Kama  good  and  great, 
111  thoughts  thy  journey  stimulate.' 
But  when  King  Guha,  ill  at  ease, 
Declared  his  fear  in  words  like  these, 
As  pure  as  is  the  cloudless  sky 
With  soft  voice  Bharat  made  reply  : 
4  Suspect  me  not :  ne'er  come  the  time 
For  me  to  plot  so  foul  a  crime  ! 
He  is  my  eldest  brother,  he 
Is  like  a  father  dear  to  me. 

1  go  to  lead  my  brother  thence 
Wiio  makes  the  wood  his  residence. 

ISIo  thought  but  this  thy  heart  should  frame: 
This  simple  truth  my  lips  proclaim.' 

Then  with  glad  cheer  King  Guha  cried, 
With  Bharat's  answer  gratilied: 
'  Blessed  art  thou  :  on  earth  I  see 
None  who  may  vie,  O  Prince,  with  thee, 
Who  canst  of  thy  free  will  resign 
The  kingdom  which  unsought  is  thine. 
For  this,  a  name  that  ne'er  shall  die, 
Thy  glory  through  the  worlds  shall  fly, 
Who  fain  wouldst  balm  thy  brother's  pain 
And  lead  the  exile  home  again.' 

As  Guha  thus,  and  Bharat,  each 
To  other  spoke  in  friendly  speech, 
The  Day-God  sank  with  glory  dead, 
And  night  o'er  all  the  sky  was  spread, 
Soon  as  King  Guha's  thoughtful  care 
Had  quartered  all  the  army  there, 
Well  honoured,  Bharat  laifi  his  head 
Beside  Satrughna  on  a  bed. 
But  grief  for  Rama  yet  oppressed 
High-minded  Bharat's  faithful  breast- 
Such  torment  little  was  deserved 
By  him  who  ne'er  from  duty  swerved. 
The  fever  raged  through  every  vein 
And  burnt  him  with  its  inward  pain  : 
So  when  in  woods  the  flames  leap  free 


The  fire  within  consumes  the  tree, 
From  heat  of  burning  anguish  sprung 
The  sweat  upon  his  body  hung, 
As  when  the  sun  with  fervid  glow 
On  high  Himalaya  melts  the  snow. 
As,  banished  from  the  herd,  a  bull 
Wanders  alone  and  sorrowful, 

Thus  sighing  and  distressed, 
In  misery  and  bitter  grief, 
With  fevered  heart  that  mocked  relief, 
Distracted  in  his  mind,  the  chief 

Still  mourned  and  found  no  rest. 

CANTO  LXXXVI. 


GUHA'S  SPEECH. 

Guha  the  king,  acquainted  well 

With  all  that  in  the  wood  befell, 

To  Bharat  the  unequalled  told 

The  tale  of  Lakshman  mighty -souled  : 

'  With  many  an  earnest  word  I  spake 

To  Lakshman  as  he  stayed  awake, 

And  with  his  bow  and  shaft  in  hand 

To  guard  his  brother  kept  his  stand: 

1  Now  sleep  a  little,  Lakshman,  see 

This  pleasant  bed  is  strewn  for  thee: 

Hereon  thy  weary  body  lay, 

And  strengthen  thee  with  rest,  I  pray, 

Inured  to  toil  are  men  like  these, 

But  thou  hast  aye  been  nursed  in  ease. 

Rest,  duteous-minded  !  I  will  keep 

My  watch  while  Rama  lies  asleep  : 

For  in  the  whole  wide  world  is  none 

Dearer  to  me  than  Raghu's  son. 

Harbour  no  doubt  or  jealous  fear  : 

I  speak  the  truth  with  heart  sincere  : 

For  from  the  grace  which  he  has  shown 

Will  glory  on  my  name  be  thrown  ; 

Great  store  of  merit  shall  I  gain, 

And  duteous,  form  no  wish  in  vain. 

Let  me  enforced  by  many  a  row 

Of  followers,  armed  with  shaft  and  bow 

For  well -loved  Rama's  weal  provide 

Who  lies  asleep  by  Sita's  side. 

For  through  this  wood  I  often  go, 

And  all  its  shades  conceal  I  know  : 

And  we  with  conquering  arms  can  meet 

A  four-fold  host  arrayed  complete.' 

'  With  words  like  these  I  spoke,  designed 

To  move  the  high-souled  Bharat's  mind, 

But  he  upon  his  duty  bent, 

Plied  his  persuasive  argument : 

'  O,  how  can  slumber  close  mine  eyea 

When  lowly  couched  with  Sita  liea 

The  royal  Rama  ?  can  I  give 

My  heart  to  joy,  or  even  live? 

He  whom  no  mighty  demon,  no, 

Nor  heavenly  God  can  overthrow, 

See,  Guha,  how  he  lies,  alas, 


194 


THE  RAMADAN. 


Book  II. 


With  Sit&  couched  on  gathered  grass. 

By  varied  labours,  long,  severe, 

By  many  a  prayer  and  rite  austere, 

He,  Dasaratha's  cherished  son, 

By  JFortunestarnpedjfrom  Heaven  was  won. 

Now  as  his  son  is  forced  to  fly, 

The  king  ere  long  will  surely  die  : 

Heft  of  his  guardian  hand,  forlorn 

In  widowed  grief  this  land  will  mourn. 

E'en  now  perhaps,  with  toil  o'erspent, 

The  women  cease  their  loud  lament, 

And  cries  of  woe  no  longer  ring 

Throughout  the  palace  of  the  king. 

But  ah  for  sad  Kausalya  !  how 

Fare  she  and  mine  own  mother  now  ? 

How  fares  the  king?  this  night,  I  think, 

Some  of  the  three  in  death  will  sink. 

With  hopes  upon  £atrughna  set 

My  mother  may  survive  as  yet, 

But  the  sad  queen  will  die  who  bore 

The  hero,  for  her  grief  is  sore. 

His  cherished  wish  that  would  have  made 

Dear  Rama  king,  so  long  delayed, 

*  Too  late  !  too  late  ! '  the  king  will  cry, 

And  conquered  by  his  misery  die. 

When  Fate  has  brought  the  mournful  day 

Which  sees  my  father  pass  away, 

How  happy  in  their  lives  are  they 

Allowed  his  funeral  rites  to  pay. 

Our  excile  o'er^  with  him  who  ne'er 

Turns  from  the  oath  his  lips  may  swear, 

May  we  returning  safe  and  well 

Again  in  fair  Ayodhya  dwell.' 

Thus  Bharat  stood  with  mai.y  a  sigh 

Lamenting,  and  the  night  went  by. 

Soon  as  the  morning  light  shone  fair 

In  votive  coils  both  bound  their  hair* 

And  then  I  sent  them  safely  o'er 

A  iid  left  them  on  the  farther  shore. 

With  Sita  then  they  onward  passed, 

Their  coats  of  bark  about  them  cast^ 

Their  locks  like  hermits'  bound, 
The  mighty  tamers  of  the  foe, 
Each  with  his  arrows  and  his  bow, 

Went  over  the  rugged  ground, 
Proud  in  their  strength  and  undeterred 
Like  elephants  that  lead  the  nerd, 

And  gazing  oft  around. 

CANTO  LXXXVIL 


GUHA'S  STORY. 

That  speech  of  Guha  Bharat  heard 
With  grief  and  tender  pity  stirred, 
And  as  his  ears  the  story  drank, 
Deep  in  his  thoughtful  heart  it  sank, 
His  large  full  eyes  in  anguish  rolled, 
His  trembling  limbs  grew  stiff  and  cold; 
Then  fell  he,  like  a  tree  uptorn, 


In  woe  too  grievous  to  be  borne. 
When  Guha  saw  the  long- armed  chief 
Whose  eye  was  like  a  lotus  leaf, 
With  lion  shoulders  strong  and  fair, 

I  High -mettled,  prostrate  in  despair,— 

'  Pale,  bitterly  afflicted;  he 
Reeled  as  in  earthquake  reels  a  tree. 
But  when  S^abrughna  standing  nigh 
Saw  his  dear  brother  helpless  lie, 
Distraught  with  woe  his  head  he  bowed* 
Embraced  him  oft  and  wept  aloud. 
Then  Bharat's  mothers  came,  forlorn 
Of  their  dear  king,  with  fasting  worn, 
And  stood  with  weeping  eyes  around 
The  hero  prostrate  on  the  ground. 
Kausalya,  by  her  woe  oppressed, 
The  senseless  Bharat's  limbs  caressed, 
As  a  fond  cow  in  love  and  fear 
Caresses  oft  her  youngling  dear  : 
Then  yielding  to  her  woe  she  saidj 
Weeping  and  sore  disquieted  : 
'  What  torments j  O  my  son,  are  these 
Of  sudden  pain  or  swift  disease  ? 
The  lives  of  us  and  all  the  line 
Depend,  dear  child,  on  only  thine. 
Rama  and  Lakshman  forced  to  flee1, 
I  live  by  naught  but  seeing  thee  : 
For  as  the  king  has  past  away 
Thou  art  my  only  help  to-day. 
Hast  thou,  perchance,  heard  evil  news 
Of  Lakshmap,  which  thy  soul  subdues, 
Or  Rama  dwelling  with  his  spouse— 
My  all  is  he— neath  forest  boughs  ?' 

Then  slowly  gathering  sense  and  strength 
The  weeping  hero  rose  at  length, 
And  words  like  these  to  Guha  spake, 
That  bade  Kausalya  comfort  take  : 
'  Where  lodged  the  prince  that  night  ?  and 

where 

Lakshman  the  brave,  and  Sita  fair  ? 
Show  me  the  couch  whereon  he  lay$ 
Tell  me  the  food  he  ate,  I  pray.' 
Then  Guha  the  Nishadas'  king 
Replied  to  Bharat's  questioning  : 
<  Of  all  I  had  I  brought  the  best 
To  serve  my  good  and  honoured  guest 
Food  of  each  varied  kind  I  chose, 
And  every  fairest  fruit  that  grows. 
Rama  the  hero  truly  brave 
Declined  the  gift  1  humbly  gave: 
His  Warrior  part  he  ne'er  forgot, 
And  what  I  brought  accepted  not : 
'  No  gifts,  my  friend,  may  we  accept t 
Our  law  is,  Give,  and  must  be  kept.' 
'  The  high-souled  chief,  O  Monarch,  thtia 
With  gracious  words  persuaded  us. 
Then  calm  and  still,  absorbed  in  thought, 
He  drank  the  water  Lakshman  brought, 
And  then,  obedient  to  his  vows, 
He  fasted  with  his  gentle  spouse. 
J5o  Lakshman  too  from  food  abstained, 


Canto  LXXXVIII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


195 


And  sipped  the  water  that  remained  : 
Then  with  ruled  lips,  devoutly  staid, 
The  three1  their  evening  worship  paid. 
Then  Lakshman  with  unwearied  care 
Brought  heaps  of  sacred  grass,  and  there 
With  his  own  hands  he  quickly  spread, 
For  Rama's  rest,  a  pleasant  bed, 
And  faithful  Sita's  too,  where  they 
Reclining  each  by  other  lay. 
Then  Lakshman  bathed  their  feet,  and  drew 
A  little  distance  from  the  two. 
Here  stands  the  tree  which  lent  them  shade, 
Here  is  the  grass  beneath  it  laid. 
Where  Rama  and  his  consort  spent 
The  uight  together  ere  they  went. 
Lakshman,  whose  arms  the  foeman  quell. 
Watched  all  the  night  as  sentinel, 

And  kept  his  great  bow  strung: 
His  hand  was  gloved,  his  arm  was  braced, 
TWO  well- tilled  quivers  at  his  waist, 

With  deadly  arrows,  hung. 
I  took  my  shafts  and  trusty  bow, 
And  with  that  tamer  of  the  foe 

Stood  ever  wakeful  near, 
And  with  my  followers,  bow  in  hand, 
Behind  me  ranged,  a  ready  band, 

Kept  watch  o'er  Indra's  peer.' 

CANTO   LXXXVIII. 


THE  INGUDr  TREE, 

When  Bharat  with  each  friend  and  peer 

Had  heard  that  tale  so  full  and  clear, 

They  went  together  to  the  tree 

The  bed  which  Rama  pressed  to  see. 

Then  Bharat  to  his  mothers  said  : 

*  Behold  the  high-souled  hero's  bed : 

These  tumbled  heaps  of  grass  betray 

Where  he  that  night  with  Sita  lay : 

Unmeet,  the  heir  of  fortune  high 

Thus  on  the  cold  bare  earth  should  He, 

The  monarch's  son,  in  counsel  sage, 

Of  old  imperial  lineage. 

That  lion- lord  whose  noble  bed 

With  finest  skins  of  deer  was  spread,— <• 

How  can  he  now  endure  to  press 

The  bare  earth,  cold  and  comfortless  ! 

This  sudden  fall  from  bliss  to  grief 

Appears  untrue,  beyond  belief  : 

My  senses  are  distraught :  I  seem 

To  view  the  fancies  of  a  dream. 

There  is  no  deity  so  great, 

No  power  in  heaven  can  master  Fate, 

Jf  Rama,  Dasaratha's  heir, 

Lay  on  the  ground  and  slumbered  there  ; 

And  lovely  Sit6,  she  who  springs 

From  fair  Videha's  ancient  kings, 

1  Rama,  Lakshman,  and  Sumantra. 


Rama's  dear  wife,  by  all  adored, 

Lay  on  the  earth  beside  her  lord. 

Here  was  his  couch,  upon  this  heap 

He  tossed  and  turned  in  restless  sleep  : 

On  the  hard  soil  each  manly  limb 

Has  stamped  the  grass  witli  signs  of  him, 

That  night,  it  seems,  fair  Sita  spent 

Arrayed  in  every  ornament, 

For  here  and  there  my  eyes  behold 

Small  particles  of  glistering  gold. 

She  laid  her  outer  garment  her^? 

For  still  some  silken  threads  appear. 

How  dear  in  her  devoted  eyes 

Must  be  the  bed  where  Rama  lies, 

Where  she  so  tender  could  repose 

And  by  his  side  forget  her  woes. 

Alas,  unhappy,  guilty  me  ! 

For  whom  the  prince  was  forced  to  flee, 

And  chief  of  Raghu's  sons  and  best, 

A  bed  like  this  with  Sita  pressed. 

Son  of  a  royal  sire  whose  hand 

Ruled  paramount  o'er  eyery  land, 

Could  he  who  every  joy  bestows, 

Whose  body  like  the  lotus  shows. 

The  friend  of  all,  who  charms  the  sight, 

Whose  flashing  eyes  are  darkly  bright, 

Leave  the  dear  kingdom,  his  by  right. 

Unmeet  for  woe.  the  heir  of  bliss, 

And  lie  upon  a  bed  like  this? 

Great  joy  and  happy  fate  are  thine, 

0  Lakshman,  marked  with  each  fair  sign, 
Whose  faithful  footsteps  follow  still 
Thy  brother  in  his  hour  of  ill. 

And  blest  is  Sita,  nobly  good. 

Who  dwells  with  Rama  in  the  wood. 

Ours  is,  alas,  a  doubtful  fate 

Of  Rama  reft  and  desolate. 

My  royal  sire  has  gained  tfye  skiee, 

In  woods  the  high-souled  hero  lies  ; 

The  state  is  wrecked  and  tempest-tossed, 

A  vessel  with  her  rudder  lost. 

Yet  none  in  secret  thought  has  planned 

With  hostile  might  to  seize  the  land: 

Though  forced  in  distant  wilds  to  dwell, 

The  hero's  arm  protects  it  well. 

Unguarded,  with  deserted  wall, 

No  elephant  or  steed  in  stall, 

My  father's  royal  city  shows 

Her  portals  open  to  her  foes, 

Of  bold  protectors  reft  and  bare, 

Defenceless  in  her  dark  despair  : 

But  still  her  foes  the  wish  restrain, 

As  men  from  poisoned  cates  refrain. 

1  from  this  hour  my  nights  will  pass 
Couched  on  the  earth  or  gathered  grass, 
Eat  only  fruit  and  roots,  and  wear 

A  coat  of  bark,  and  matted  hair. 
I  in  the  woods  will  pass,  content, 
For  him  the  term  of  banishment ; 
So  shall  I  still  unbroken  save 
The  promise  which  the  hero  gave, 


196 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II 


While  I  remain  for  Rama  there, 
datnighua  will  my  exile  share, 
And  Kama  hi  his  home  again, 
With  Lakshman,  o'er  Ayodhya  reign, 
For  him,  ,o  rule*  and  guard  the  state, 
The  twice-born  men  shall  consecrate. 
O,  may  the  Gods  1  serve  incline 
To  grant  this  earnest  wish  of  mine! 
If  when  I  bow  before  his  feet 
And  with  all  moving  arts  entreat, 

He  still  deny  my  prayer, 
Then  with  my  brother  will  I  live  : 
He  must,  he  must  permission  give, 

ttoaining  in  forests  there.' 

CANTO  LXXXIX. 


'  I, 


THE  PASSAGE  OF  GANGA. 

That  night  the  son  of  Raghu  lay 
On  Ganga's  bank  till  break  of  day  : 
Then  with  the  earliest  light  he  woke 
And  thus  to  brave  ^atrughna  spoke: 
4  Rise  up,  £atrughna,  from  thy  bed: 
Why  sleepest  thou  ?  the  night  is  fled. 
See  how  the  sun  who  chases  night 
Wakes  every  lotus  with  his  light. 
Arise,  arise,  and  first  of  all 
The  lord  of  &rmgavera  call, 
For  he  his  friendly  aid  will  lend 
Our  army  o'er  the  flood  to  send.' 

Thus  urged,  ^atrughna  answered 
Remembering  Rama,  sleepless  lie.' 
As  thus  the  brothers,  each  to  each, 
The  lion-mettled,  ended  speech, 
Came  Gnha,  the  Nishadas'  king, 
And  spoke  with  kindly  questioning: 
'  Hast  thou  in  comfort  passed,'  he  cried, 
'  Tne  night  upon  the  river  side  ? 
With  thee  how  fares  it  ?  and  are  these, 
Thy  soldiers,  healthy  and  at  ease?' 
Thus  the  JSishadas'  lord  inquired 
In  gentle  words  which  love  inspired, 
And  Bharat,  Rama's  faithful  slave, 
Thus  to  the  king  his  answer  gave  : 
'  Ttie  night  has  sweetly  passed,  and  we 
Are  highiy  honoured,  King,  by  thee. 
]S'ow  let  thy  servants  boats  prepare, 
Our  army  o'er  the  stream  to  bear.' 

The  speech  of  Bharat  Guha  heard, 
And  swift  to  do  his  bidding  stirred. 
Within  the  town  the  monarch  sped 
And  to  his  ready  kinsmen  said  : 
*  Awake,  each  kinsman,  ri.se,  each  friend  ! 
May  every  joy  your  lives  attend. 
Gather  eacii  boat  upon  the  shore 
And  ferry  all  the  army  o'er.' 
Tims  Guha  spoke:  nor  they  delayed, 
But,  rising  quick,  their  lord  obeyed, 
And    toon,  ircm  every  side  secured, 


Five  hundred  boats  were  ready  moored. 
Some  reared  aloft  the  mystic  sign,1 
And  mighty  bells  were  hung  in  line: 
Of  firmest  build,  gay  flags  they  bore, 
And  sailors  for  the  helm  and  oar. 
One  such  King  Guha  chose,  whereon, 
Of  fair  white  cloth,  an  awning  shone, 
And  sweet  musicians  charmed  the  ear,— • 
And  bade  his  servants  urge  it  near. 
Then  Bharat  swiftly  sprang  on  board, 
Arid  then  &atrughna,  famous  lord, 
To  whom,  with  many  a  royal  dame, 
Kausalya  and  6umitra  came. 
The  household  priest  went  first  in  place, 
The  elders,  and  the  Brahman  race, 
And  after  them  the  monarch's  train 
Of  women  borne  in  many  a  wain, 
Then  high  to  heaven  the  shouts  of  those 
Who  fired  the  army's  huts,34  arose, 
With  theirs  who  bathed  along  the  shore, 
Or  to  the  boats  the  baggage  bore. 
Full  freighted  with  that  mighty  force 
The  boats  sped  swiftly  on  their  course, 
By  royal  Guha's  servants  manned, 
And  gentle  gales  the  banners  fanned. 
Some  boats  a  crowd  of  dames  conveyed, 
In  others  noble  coursers  neighed  ; 
Some  chariots  and  their  cattle  bore, 
Some  precious  wealth  and  golden  store. 
Across  the  stream  each  boat  was  rowed, 
There  duly  disembarked  its  load, 
And  then  returning  on  its  way, 
Sped  here  and  there  in  merry  play. 
Then  swimming  elephants  appeared 
With  flying  pennons  high  upreared, 
And  as  the  drivers  urged  them  o'er, 
The  look  of  winged  mountains  wore. 
Some  men  in  barges  reached  the  strand, 
Others  on  rafts  came  safe  to  land  : 
Some  buoyed  with  pitchers  crossed  the  tide, 
And  others  on  their  arms  relied. 
Thus  with  the  help  the  monarch  gave 
The  army  crossed  pure  Ganga's  wave  : 
Then  in  auspicious  hour  it  stood 
Within  Pra\  aga's  famous  wood. 
The  prince  with  cheering  words  addressed 
His  weary  men,  and  bade  them  rest 

Where'er  they  chose:  and  he, 
With  priest  and  deacon  by  his  side, 
To  Bharadvaja's  dwelling  hied 

That  best  of  saints  to  see. 


I 


1  The  svastika,  a  little  cross  with  a 
transverse  line  at  each  extremity. 

54  When  an  army  marched  it  was  custom- 
ary to  burn  the  hiitd  in  which  it  had  spent 
the  night. 


CANTO  XC. 
THE  HERMITAGE. 


|  Canto  XCL  THE  RAM  AY  AN. 

The  prince  of  men  a  league  away 

Saw  where  the  hermit's  dwelling  lay, 
•  Then  with  his  lords  his  patli  pursued, 
\  And  left  his  warrior  multitude. 
!  On  foot,  as  duty  taught  his  mind, 

He  left  his  warlike  gear  behind  : 
:  Two  robes  of  linen  cloth  he  wore, 
i  And  bade  Vasishtha  walk  before. 

Then  Bharat  from  his  lords  withdrew 

When  Bharadvaja  came  in  view, 

And  toward  tne  holy  hermit  went 

Behind  Vasishtha,  reverent. 

Wnen  Bharadvaja,  saint  austere, 

Saw  good  VasishtUa  drawing  near, 

He  cried,  upswinging  from  his  seat, 

'  The  grace-gift  bring,  my  friend  to  greet.' 

Wnen  Saint  Vasishtha  near  him  drew, 

And  Bharat  paid  the  reverence  due, 

The  glorious  hermit  was  aware 

That  Dasaratha's  son  was  there. 

The  grace-gift,  water  for  their  feet 

He  gave,  and  offered  fruit  to  eat ; 

Then,  duty-skilled,  with  friendly  speech 

In  Scvmly  order  questioned  each  : 

*  How  fares  it  in  Ayodhva  n  >w 
With  treasury  and  army  ?  how 

With  kith  and  kin  and  friends  most  dear, 
With  councillor,  and  prince,  and  peer  ? 
But,  for  he  knew  the  king  was  dej,d, 
Of  pj&aratha  naught  he  said. 
Vasishtha  and  the  prince  in  turn 
Would  of  the  hermit's  welfare  learn: 
Of  holy  fires  they  fain  would  hear, 
Of  pupils,  trees,  and  birds,  and  deer. 
The  glorious  saint  his  answer  made 
That  all  was  well  in  holy  stiade: 
Tnen  love  of  Rama  moved  his  breast, 
And  thus  he  questioned  of  his  guest  : 
Why  art  thou  here,  O  Prince,  whose  hand 
With  kingly  sway  protects  the  Ian  1  ? 
Declare  the  cause,  explain  the  whole, 
For  yet  snne  doubt  disturbs  my  soul. 
He  whom  Kausalya  bare,  whose  might 
The  foemen  slays,  his  line's  delight, 
He  who  with  wife  and  brother  sent 
Afar  now  roams  in  banishment, 
Famed  prince,  to  whom  his  father  spake 
This  order  for  a  woman's  sake  : 

•  Away  !  and  in  the  forest  spend 

T:iy  life  till  fourteen  years  shall  end' — 
H;is   thou  the  wish  to  harm  him,  bent 
On  sin  against  the  innocent  ? 
Wouldst  thou  thine  elder's  realm  enjoy 
Without  a  thorn  that  can  annoy  ? ' 

'  With  sobbing  voice  and  tearful  eye 
Thus  Bharat  sadly  made  reply : 
•Ah  lost  am  I,  if  thou,  O  baint, 


197 


Canst  thus  in  though fc  my  heart  attaint : 
No  warning  charge  from  thee  I  need  ; 
Ne'er  could  such  crime  from  me  proceed. 
The  words  my  guilty  mother  spake 
When  fondly  jealous  for  my  sake — 
Think  not  that  I,  to  triumph  moved, 
Those  words  approve  or  e'er  approved. 

0  Hermit,  I  have  sought  this  place 
To  win  the  lordly  hero's  grace, 

To  throw  me  at  my  brother's  feet 
And  lead  him  to  his  royal  seat. 
To  this,  mv  journey's  aim  and  end, 
Thou  shouldst,  O  Saint,  thy  favour  lend  : 
Where  is  tiie  lord  of  earth?  do  thou, 
Most  holy,  say,  where  roams  he  now  ? 

Then,  by  the  saint  Vasishtha  pressed, 
And  all  the  gathered  priests  beyide, 

To^Bharat's  dutiful  request 

The  hermit  graciously  replied  : 
'  Worthy  of  thee,  O  Prince,  this  deed, 
True  son  of  Raghu's  ancient  seed. 

1  know  thee  reverent,  well-controlled, 
The  glory  of  the  good  of  old. 

I  grant  thy  prayer  :  in  this  pursuit 
I  know  thy  heart  is  resolute. 
'  Tis  for  thy  sake  those  words  I  said 
That  wider  still  thy  fame  may  spread. 
I  know  where  Rama,  duty -tried, 
His  brother,  and  his  wife  abide. 
Wiiere  Chitrakuta's  heights  arise 
Tiiy  brother  Kama's  dwelling  lies. 
Go  thither  with  the  morning's  light, 
And  stay  with  all  thy  lords  to-night : 
For  I  would  show  thee  honour  high, 
And  do  not  thou  my  wish  deny,' 

CANTO  XCL 


BHARADVAJA  S  FEAST. 

Soon  as  he  saw  the  prince's  mind 
To  rest  that  day  was  well  inclined, 
He  sought  Kaikeyi's  son  to  please 
With  hospitable  courtesies. 
Then  Bharat  to  the  saint  replied  : 
4  Our  wants  are  more  than  satisfied. 
The  gifts  which  honoured  strangers  greet, 
And  water  for  our  weary  feet 
Hast  thou  bestowed  with  friendly  care, 
And  every  choice  of  woodland  fare.' 
Then  Bharadvaja  spoke,  a  smile 
Playing  upon  his  lips  the  while  : 
*  I  know,  dear  Prince,  thy  friendly  mind 
Will  any  fare  sufficient  find, 
But  gladly  would  I  entertain 
And  banquet  all  thine  armed  train  : 
Such  is  my  earnest  wish  :  do  thou 
This  longing  of  my  heart  allow. 
Why  hast  thou  hither  bent  thy  way, 
And  made  thy  troops-behmd'tkee  stay? 


198 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


Why  unattended  ?  couldat  thou  not 
With  friends  and  army  seek  this  spot  ?' 

Bharat,  with  reverent  hands  raised  high, 
'To  ith-at  great  hermit  made  reply  : 
*  My  troops,  for  awe  of  thee,  O  Sage, 
I  brought  not  to  thy  hermitage  : 
Troops  of  a  king  or  monarchy  son 
A  hermit's  home  should  ever  shun. 
Behind  me  comes  a  mighty  train 
Wide  spreading  o'er  the  ample  plain, 
Where  every  chief  and  captain  leads 
Men,  elephants,  and  mettled  steeds 
I  feared,  O  reverend  Sage,  lest  these 
Might  harm  the  holy  ground  and  trees, 
Springs  might  be  marred  and  cots  o'er- 

.thrown, 
So  with  the  priests  I  came  alone.' 

'Bring  all  thy  host,'  the  hermit  cried, 
And  Bharat,  to' his  joy,  c  mplied. 
Then  to  the  chapel  went  the  sire, 
Where  ever  burnt  the  sacred  fire, 
And  first,  in  order  due^  with  sips 
Of  water  purified  his  lips : 
To  Visvakarma  then  he  prayed, 
Jlis  hospitable  feast  to  aid  : 
'  Let  Visvakarma  hear  my  call, 
The  God  who  forms  and  fashions  all; 
A  mighty  banquet  I  provide, 
Be  all  my  wants  this  day  supplied. 
Lord  Indra  at  their  head,  the  three1 
Who  guard  the  worlds  I  call  to  me  ; 
A  mighty  host  this  day  1  feed, 
Be  now  supplied  my  every  need. 
Let  all  the  streams  that  eastward  go, 
And  those  whose  waters  westering  flow, 
Both  on  the  earth  and  in  the  sky, 
Flow  hither  and  my  wants  supply. 
Be  some  with  ardent  liquor  filled, 
And  some  with  wine  from  flowers  distilled, 
While  some  their  fresh  cool  streams  retain 
Sweet  as  the  juice  of  sugar-cane. 
I  call  the  Gods,  I  call  the  band 
Of  minstrels  that  around  them  stand  : 
I  call  the  Haha  and  Huhu, 
I  call  the  sweet  Visvavasu. 
I  call  the  heavenly  wives  of  these 
With  all  the  bright  Apsarases, 
Alambusha  of  beauty  rare, 
The  charmer  of  the  tangled  hair, 
Ghritachi  and  Visvacki  fair, 
Hema  and  Bhinja  sweet  to  view, 
And  lovely  Nagadanta  too, 
And  all  the  sweetest  nymphs  who  stand 
BY  Imlra  or  by  Brahma's  hand-- 
I  summon  these  with  all  their  train 
And  Tumburu  to  lead  the  strain. 
Here  let  Kuv era's  garden  rise 
Which  far  in  Northern  Kuru2  lies; 


Yama,  Varuna  and  Kuvera. 
2  A  happy  land  in  the  remote  north 
where '  the  inhabitants  enjoy  a  natural  per- 


For  leaves  let  eloth  and  gems  entwine, 

And  let  its  fruit  be  nymphs  divine. 

Let  Soma1  give  the  noblest  food 

To  feed  the  mighty  multitude, 

Of  every  kind,  for  tooth  and  lip, 

To  chew,  to  lick,  to  suck,  and  sip. 

Let  wreaths,  where  fairest  fluwers  abound, 

Spring  from  the  trees  that  bloom  around. 

Each  sort  of  wine  to  woo  the  taste, 

And  meats  of  every  kind  be  placed.' 

Tims  spake  the  hermit  self -restrained, 
With  proper  tone  by  rules  ordained, 
On  deepest  meditation  bent, 
In  holy  might  preeminent. 
Then  as  with  hands  in  reverence  raised 
Absorbed  in  thought  he  eastward  gazed, 
The  deities  he  thus  addressed ^ 
Came  each  in  semblance  manifest. 
Delicious  gales  that  cooled  the  frame 
From  Malaya  and  Dardar  came, 
That  kissed  those  scented  hills  and  threw 
Auspicious  fragrance  where  they  blew. 
Then  falling  fast  in  sweetest  showers 
Came  from  the  sky  immortal  flowers, 
And  all  the  airy  region  round 
With  heavenly  drums  was  made  to  sound. 
Then  breathed  a  soft  celestial  breeze, 
Then  danced  the  bright  Apsarases, 
The  minstrels  and  the  Gods  advanced, 
And  warbling  lutes  the  soul  entranced. 
The  earth  and  sky  that  music  filled, 
And  through  each  ear  it  softly  thrilled, 
As  from  the  heavenly  quills  it  fell 
With  time  and  tune  attempered  well. 
Soon  as  the  minstrels  ceased  to  play 
And  airs  celestial  died  away, 
The  troops  of  Bharat  saw  amazed 
What  Vigvakarma's  art  had  raised. 
On  every  side,  five  leagues  around, 
All  smooth  and  level  lay  the  ground, 
With  fresh  green  grass  that   charmed  the 

sight 

Like  sapphires  blent  with  lazulite. 
There  the  Wood-apple  hung  its  load, 
The  Mango  and  the  Citron  glowed 
The  Bel  and  scented  Jak  were  there, 
And  Aonla  with  fruitage  fair. 
There,  brought  from  Northern  Kuru,  stood 
Rich  in  delights,  the  glorious  wood. 
And  many  a  stream  was  seen  to  glide 

fection  attended  with  complete  happiness 
obtained  without  exertion.  There  is  there 
no  vicissitude,  nor  decrepitude,  nor  death, 
nor  fear  :  no  distinction  of  virtue  and 
vice,  none  of  the  inequalities  denoted  by 
the  words  best,  worst,  and  intermediate, 
nor  any  change  resulting  from  the  suc- 
cession of  the  four  Yugas.'  See  MuiR'S 
Sanskrit  Texts,  Vol  I,  p.  492, 
1  The  Moon, 


Canto  XCI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


199 


With  flowering  trees  along  its  side. 
There  mansions  rose  with  four  wide  halls, 
And  elephants  and  chargers'  stalls, 
And  many  a  house  of  royal  state, 
Triumphal  arc  and  bannered  gate. 
With  noble  doorways,  sought  the  sky, 
Like  a  pale  cloud,  a  palace  high, 
Which  far  and  wide  rare  fragrance  shed. 
With  wreaths  of  white  engarlanded. 
Square  was  its  shape,  its  halls  were  wide, 
With  many  a  seat  and  couch  supplied, 
.Drink  of  all  kinds,  and  every  meat 
Such  as  celestial  Gods  might  eat. 
Then  at  the  bidding  of  the  seer 
Kaikeyi's  strong-armed  son  drew  near. 
And  passed  within  that  fair  abode 
Which  with  the  noblest  jewels  glowed. 
Then.,  as  Vasishtha  led  the  way, 
The  councillors,  in  due  array. 
Followed  delighted  and  amazed 
And  on  the  glorious  structure  gazed. 
Then  Bharat,  Baghu's  son,  drew  near 
The  kingly  throne,  with  prince  and  peer, 
Whereby  the  ehouri  in  the  shade 
Of  ths  white  canopy  was  laid. 
Before  the  throne  he  humbly  bent 
And  honoured  Rama,  reverent, 
Then  in  his  hand  the  ehouri  bore, 
And  sat  where  sits  a  councillor, 
His  ministers  and  household  priest 
Sat  by  degrees  from  chief  to  least, 
Then  sat  the  captain  of  the  host 
And  all  the  men  he  honoured  most. 
Then  when  the  saint  his  order  gave, 
Each  river  with  enchanted  wave 
Rolled  milk  and  curds  divinely  sweet 
Before  the  princely  Bharat's  feet ; 
And  dwellings  fair  on  either  side, 
With  gay  white  plaster  beautified, 
'Their  heavenly  roofs  were  seen  to  lift. 
The  Brahman  Bharadvaja's  gift, 
Then  straight  by  Lord  Kuvera  sent, 
<*ay  with  celestial  ornament 
Of  bright  attire  and  jewels'  shine. 
Came  twenty  thousand  nymphs  divine  : 
The  man  on  whom  those  beauties  glanced 
That  moment  felt  his  soul  entranced. 
With  them  from  Nandan's  blissful  shades 
Came  twenty  thousand  heavenly  maids, 
Tumburu,  Narad,  Gopa  eame, 
And  Sutanu,  like  radiant  tlame, 
The  kings  of  the  Gandharva  throng, 
And  ravished  Bharat  with  their  song. 
Then  spoke  the  saint,  and  swift  obeyed 
Alambusiia,  the  fairest  maid, 
And  Misrakesi  bright  to  view, 
Bamana,  Pundarika  too, 
And  danced  to  him  with  graceful  ease 
The  dances  of  Apsarases. 
All  chaplets  that  by  Gods  are  worn, 
Or  (Jhaiirarajtha's  groves  adorn, 
14 


Bloomed  by  the  Paint's  command  arrayed 
On  branches  in  Prayaga's  shade. 
When  at  the  saint's  command  the  breeze 
Made  music  with  the  Vilva  trees, 
To  wave  in  rhythmic  beat  began 
The  boughs  of  each  Myrob.olan, 
And  holy  fig-trees  wore  the  look 
Of  dancers,  as  their  leaflets  shook. 
The  fair  Tamala,  palm,  and  pine, 
With  trees  that  tower  and  pi  ante  that  twine, 
The  sweetly  varying  forms  displayed 
Of  stately  dame  or  bending  maid. 
Here  men  the  foaming  winecup  quaffed, 
Here  drank  of  milk  full  many  a  draught, 
And  tasted  meats  of  every  kind, 
Well  dressed,  whatever  pleased  their  mind. 
Then  beauteous  women,  seven  or  eight, 
Stood  ready  by  each  man  to  wait : 
Beside  the  stream  his  lirnbs  they  stripped 
And  in  the  cooling  water  dipped. 
And  then  the  fair  ones,  sparkling  eyed, 
With  soft  hands  rubbed  his  limbs  and  dried, 
And  sitting  on  the  lovely  bank 
Held  up  the  winecup  as  he  drank. 
Nor  did  the  grooms  forget  to  feed 
Camel  and  mule  and  ox  and  steed, 
For  there  were  stores  of  roasted  grain, 
Of  honey  and  of  sugar-cane. 
So  fast  the  wild  excitement  spread 
Among  the  warriors  Bharat  led, 
That  all  the  mighty  army  through 
The  groom  no  more  his  charger  knew, 
And  he  who  drove  might  seek  in  vain 
To  tell  his  elephant  again. 
With  every  joy  and  rapture  fired, 
Entranced  with  all  the  heart  desired, 
The  myriads  of  the  host  that  night 
Revelled  delirious  with  delight. 
Urged  by  the  damsels  at  their  side 
In  wild  delight  the  warriors  cried  : 
'  Ne'er  will  we  seek  Ayodhya,  no, 
Nor  yet  to  Dandak  forest  go  : 
Here  will  we  stay  :  may  happy  fate 
On  Bharat  and  on  Rama  wait.' 
Thus  cried  the  army  gay  and  free 
Exulting  in  their  lawless  glee, 
Both  infantry  and  those  who  rode 
On  elephants,  or  steeds  bestrode, 
Ten  thousand  voices  shouting-,  '  This 
Is  heaven  indeed  for  perfect  bliss/ 
With  garlands  decked  they  idly  strayed, 
And  danced  and  laughed  and  sang  and 

played. 

At  length  as  every  soldier  eyed, 
With  food  like  Amrit  satisfied, 
Each  dainty  cate  and  tempting  meat, 
No  longer  had  he  care  to  eat. 
Thus  soldier,  servant,  dame,  and  slave 
Received  whate'er  the  wish  might  crave, 
As  each  in  new-wrought  clothes  arrayed 
Enjoyed  the  feast  before  him  laid, 


200 


THE  RAM  A  YAK. 


Boole  II. 


Each  man  was  seen  in  white  attire 
Unstained  by  spot  or  speck  of  mire: 
None  was  athirst  or  hungry  there, 
Aud  none  had  dust  upon  his  hair. 
On  every  side  in  woody  dells 
Was  milky  food  in  bubbling  wells, 
And  there  were  all-supplying  cows 
And  honey  dropping  from  the  boughs. 
Nor  wanted  lakes  of  flower-made  drink 
With  piles  of  meat  upon  the  brink, 
Boiled,  stewed,  and  roasted,  varied  cheer, 
Peachick  and  jungle-fowl  and  deer, 
There  was  the  flesh  of  kid  and  boar, 
And  dainty  sauce  in  endless  store, 
With  juice  of  flowers  concocted  well, 
And  soup  that  charmed  the  taste  and  smell, 
And  pounded  fruits  of  bitter  taste, 
And  many  a  bath  was  ready  placed. 
Down  by  each  river's  shelving  side  _ 
There  stood  great  basins  well  supplied, 
And  laid  therein,  of  dazzling  sheen, 
White  brushes  for  the  teeth  were  seen, 
And  many  a  covered  box  wherein 
Was  sandal  powdered  for  the  skin. 
And  mirrors  bright  with  constant  care, 
And  piles  of  new  attire  were  there, 
And  store  of  sandals  and  of  shoes, 
Thousands  of  pairs,  for  all  to  choose  : 
Eye-unguents,  combs  for  hair  and  beard, 
Umbrellas  fair  and  bows  appeared. 
Lakes  gleamed,  that  lent  digestive  aid,1 
And  some  for  pleasant  bathing  made, 
WTith  waters  fair,  and  smooth  incline 
For  camels,  horses,  mules,  and  kine. 
There  saw  they  barley  heaped  on  high 
The  coutless  cattle  to  supply  : 
The  golden  grain  shone  fair  and  bright 
As  sapphires  or  the  lazulite. 
To  all  the  gathered  host  it  seemed 
As  if  that  magic  scene  they  dreamed, 
And  wonder,  as  they  gazed,  increased 
At  Bharadvaja's  glorious  feast. 

Thus  in  the  hermit's  grove  they  spent 
That  night  in  joy  and  merriment, 
Blest  as  the  Gods  who  take  their  ease 
Under  the  shade  of  Nandan's  trees. 
Each  minstrel  bade  the  saint  adieu, 
And  to  his  blissful  mansion  flew, 
And  every  stream  and  heavenly  dame 
Returned  as  swiftly  as  she  came. 

CANTO  XCII. 


BHARAT'S  FAREWELL. 

So  Bharat  with  his  army  spent 
The  watches  of  the  night  content, 


i  The  poet  does  not  tell  us  what  these 
lakes  contained. 


And  gladly,  with  the  morning's  light 
Drew  near  his  host  the  anchorite. 
When  Bharadvaja  saw  him  stand 
With  hand  in  reverence  joined  to  hand, 
When  fires  of  worship  had  been  fed, 
He  looked  upon  the  prince  and  said  : 
'  O  blameless  son,  I  pray  thee  tell, 
Did  the  past  night  content  thee  well  ? 
Say  if  the  feast  my  care  supplied 
Thy  host  of  followers  gratified.' 

His  hands  he  joined,  his  head  he  bent 
And  spoke  in  answer  reverent 
To  the  most  high  and  radiant  sage 
Who  issued  from  his  hermitage  : 
'  Well  have  I  passed  the  night :  thy  feast 
Gave  joy  to  every  man  and  beast  ; 
And  I.  great  lord,  and  every  peer 
Were  satisfied  with  sumptuous  cheer, 
Thy  banquet  has  delighted  all 
From  highest  chief  to  meanest  thrall, 
And  rich  attire  and  drink  and  meat 
Banished  the  thought  of  toil  and  heat* 
And  now,  O  Hermit  good  arid  great, 
A  boon  of  thee  I  supplicate. 
To  Rama's  side  my  steps  1  bend  : 
Do  thou  with  friendly  eye  commend. 
O  tell  me  how  to  guide  my  feet 
To  virtuous  llama's  lone  retreat  : 
Great  Hermit.  I  entreat  thee,  say 
How  far  from  here  and  which  the  way/ 

Thus  by  fraternal  love  inspired 
The  chieftain  of  the  saint  inquired  : 
Then  thus  replied  the  glorious  seer 
Of  matchless  might,  of  vows  austere  : 
*  Ere  the  fourth  league  from  here  be  passed, 
Amid  a  forest  wild  and  vast, 
Stands  Chvtrakuta's  mountain  tall, 
Lovely  with  wood  and  waterfall. 
North  of  the  mountain  thou  wilt  see 
The  beauteous  stream  Mandakini, 
Where  swarm  the  waterfowl  below. 
And  gay  trees  on  the  margin  grow. 
Then  w'ill  a  leafy  cot  between 
The  river  and  the  hill  be  seen  : 
'Tis  Rama's,  and  the  princely  pair 
Of  brothers  live  for  certain  there. 
Hence  to  the  south  thine  army  lead, 
And  then  more  southward  still  proceed, 
So  shalt  thou.  find  his  lone  retreat, 
And  there  the  son  of  Raghu  meet.' 

Soon  as  the  ordered  march  they  knew, 
The  widows  of  the  monarch  flew, 
Leaving  their  cars,  most  meet  to  ride, 
And  flocked  to  Bharadvaja's  side. 
There  with  the  good  Sumitra  Queen 
Kausalya,  sad  and  worn,  was  seen. 
Caressing,  still  with  sorrow  faint, 
The  feet  of  that  illustrious  saint, 
Kaikeyi  too,  her  longings  crossed, 
Reproached  of  all,  her  object  lost, 
Before  the  famous  hermit  came, 


Canto  XCIIL 


». — j 
clasped  his  feet,  overwhelmed  with 
shame. 

With  circling  steps  she  humbly  went 
Around  the  saint  preeminent, 
And  stood  not  far  from  Bharat's  side 
With  heart  oppressed,  and  heavy -eyed. 
Then  the  great  seer,  who  never  broke 
One  holy  vow,  to  Bharat  spoke : 

•  Speak,  Raghu's  son  :  I  fain  would  learn 
The  story  of  each  queen  in  turn.' 

Obedient  to  the  high  request 
By  Bharadvaja  thus  addressed, 
His  reverent  hands  together  laid, 
He,  skilled  in  speech,  his  answer  made: 
*She  whom,  O  Saint,  thou  seest  here 
A  Goddess  in  her  form  appear, 
Was  the  chief  consort  of  the  king, 
Now  worn  with  fast  and  sorrowing. 
As  Aditi  in  days  of  yore 
The  all-preserving  Vishnu  bore, 
Kausalya  bore  with  happy  fate 
Lord  Rama  of  the  lion's  gait. 
She  who,  transfixed  with  torturing  pangs, 
On  her  left  arm  so  fondly  hangs, 
As  when  her  withering  leaves  decay 
Droops  by  the  wood  the  Cassia  spray, 
Suniit  ra,  pained  with  woe.  is  she, 
The  consort  second  of  the  three  : 
Two  princely  sons  the  lady  bare, 
Fair  as  the  Gods  in  heaven  are  fair. 
And  she,  the  wicked  dame  through  whom 
My  brothers'  lives  are  wrapped  in  gloom, 
And  mourning  for  his  offspring  dear, 
The  king  has  sought  his  heavenly  sphere, — 
Proud,  foolish-hearted,  swift  to  ire, 
Self-fancied  darling  of  my  sire, 
Kaikeyi,  most  ambitious  queen, 
Unlovely  with  her  lovely  mien, 
My  mother  she,  whose  impious  will 
Is  ever  bent  on  deeds  of  ill, 
In  whom  the  root  and  spring  I  see 
Of  all  this  woe  which  crushes  me.' 

Quick  breathing  like  a  furious  snake, 
With  tears  and  sobs  the  hero  spake, 
With  reddened  eyes  aglow  with  rage. 
And  Bharadvaja,  mighty  sage, 
Supreme  in  wisdom,  calm  and  grave, 
In  words  like  these  good  counsel  gave: 

*  O  Bharat,  hear  the  words  I  say  ; 
On  her  the  fault  thou  must  not  lay  : 
For  many  a  blessing  yet  will  spring 
From  banished  Rama's  wandering.' 
And  Bharat,  with  that  promise  cheered, 
Went  circling  round  that  saint  revered, 
He  humbly  bade  farewell,  and  then 
Gave  orders  to  collect  his  men. 

^Prompt  at  the  summons  thousands  flew 
*To  cars  which  noble  coursers  drew, 
Bright-gleaming,  glorious  to  behold, 
Adorned  with  wealth  of  burnished  gold. 
Then  female  elephants  and  male, 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


201 


Gold-girthed,  with  flags  that  wooed  the  gale, 
Marched  with  their  bright  bells'  tinkling 

chime 

Like  clouds  when  ends  the  summer  time  : 
Some  cars  were  huge  and  some  were  light, 
For  heavy  draught  or  rapid  flight, 
Of  costly  price,  of  every  kind, 
With  clouds  of  infantry  behind. 
The  dames,  Kausalya  at  their  head, 
Were  in  the  noblest  chariots  led, 
And  every  gentle  bosom  beat 
With  hope  the  banished  prince  to  meet. 
The  royal  Bharat,  glory-crowned, 
With  all  his  retinue  around, 
Borne  in  a  beauteous  litter  rode, 
Like  the  young  moon  and  sun  that  glowed. 
The  army  as  it  streamed  along, 
Gars,  elephants,  in  endless  throng, 
Showed,  marching  on  its  southward  way, 
Like  autumn  clouds  in  long  array. 


CANTO  XCIIL 


CHITRAKU'TA  IN  SIGHT. 

As  through  the  woods  its  way  pursued 
That  mighty  bannered  multitude, 
Wild  elephants  in  terror  fled 
With  all  the  startled  herds  they  led, 
And  bears  and  deer  were  seen  on  hill, 
In  forest  glade,  by  every  rill. 
Wide  as  the  sea  from  coast  to  coast, 
The  high-souled  Bharat's  mighty  hosfc 
Covered  the  earth  as  cloudy  trains 
Obscure  the  sky  when  fall  the  rains. 
The  stately  elephants  he  led, 
And  countless  steeds  the  land  o'erspread. 
So  closely  crowded  that  between 
Their  serried  ranks  no  ground  was  seen. 
Then  when  the  host  had  travelled  far, 
And  steeds  were  worn  who  drew  the  car, 
The  glorious  Bharat  thus  addressed 
Vasishtha,  of  his  lords  the  best : 
'  The  spot,.methinks,  we  now  behold 
Of  which  the  holy  hermit  told, 
For,  as  his  words  described,  I  trace 
Each  several  feature  of  the  place  : 
Before  us  Chitrakuta  shows, 
Mandakini  beside  us  flows  : 
Afar  umbrageous  woods  arise 
Like  darksome  clouds  that  veil  the  skies. 
Now  tread  these  mountain-beasts  of  mine 
On  Chitrakuta's  fair  incline. 
The  trees  their  rain  of  blossoms  shed 
On  table-lands  beneath  them  spread, 
As  from  black  clouds  the  floods  descend 
When  the  hot  days  of  summer  end. 
$atrughna,  look,  the  mountain  see 
Where  heavenly  minstrels  wander  free, 


202 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  II. 


And  horses  browse  beneath  the  steep, 
Countless  as  monsters  in  the  deep. 
Scared  by  my  host  the  mountain  deer 
Starting  with  tempest  speed  appear 
Like  the  long  lines  of  cloud  that  fly 
In  autumn  through  the  windy  sky. 
See,  every  warrior  shows  his  head 
With  fragrant  blooms  engarlanded  ; 
All  look  like  southern  soldiers  who 
Lift  up  their  shields  of  azure  hue. 
This  lonely  wood  beneath  the  hill, 
That  was  so  dark  and  drear  and  still, 
Covered  with  men  in  endless  streams 
Now  like  Ayodhya's  city  seems. 
The  dust  which  countless  hoofs  excite 
Obscures  the  sky  and  veils  the  light ; 
But  see,  swift  winds  those  clouds  dispel 
As  if  they  strove  to  please  me  well, 
See,  guided  in  their  swift  career 
By  many  a  skilful  charioteer, 
Those  cars  by  fleetest  coursers  drawn 
Race  onward  over  glade  and  lawn. 
Look,  startled  as  the  host  comes  near 
The  lovely  peacocks  fly  in  fear, 
Gorgeous  as  if  the  fairest  blooms 
Of  earth  had  glorified  their  plumes. 
Look  where  the  sheltering  covert  shows 
The  trooping  deer,  both  bucks  and  does, 
That  occupy  in  countless  herds 
This  mountain  populous  with  birds. 
Most  lovely  to  my  mind  appears 
This  place  which  every  charm  endears : 
Fair  as  the  road  where  tread  the  Blest : 
Here  holy  hermits  take  their  rest. 
Then  let  the  army  onward  press 
And  duly  search  each  green  recess 
For  the  two  lion-lords,  till  we 
Rama  once  more  and  Lakshman  see.' 

Thus  Bharat  spoke  :  and  hero"  bands 
Of  men  with  weapons  in  their  hands 
Entered  the  tangled  forest :  then 
A  spire  of  smoke  appeared  in  ken. 
Soon  as  they  saw  the  rising  smoke 
To  Bharat  they  returned  and  spoke  : 
'  No  fire  where  men  are  not :  'tis  clear 
That  Raghu's  sons  are  dwelling  here. 
Or  if  not  here  those  heroes  dwell 
Whose  mighty  arms  their  foeman  quell, 
Still  other  hermits  here  must  be 
Like  Rama,  true  and  good  as  he,' 

His  ears  attentive  Bharat  lent 
To  their  resistless  argument, 
Then  to  his  troops  the  chief  who  broke 
His  foe's  embattled  armies  spoke : 
•  Here  let  the  troops  in  silence  stay  ; 
One  step  beyond  they  must  not  stray. 
Come  Dhrishti  and  S  umantra,  you 
With  me  alone  the  path  pursue.' 
Their  leader's  speech  the  warriors  heard, 
And  from  his  place  no  soldier  stirred. 
And  Bharat  bent  his  eager  eyes 


Where  curling  smoke  was  seen  to  rise. 

The  host  his  order  well  obeyed, 
And  halting  there  in  silence  stayed 
Watching  where  from  the  thicket's  shade 

They  saw  the  smoke  appear. 
And  joy  through  all  the  army  ran, 
1  Soon  shall  we  meet,'  thought  every  man, 

'  The  prince  we  hold  so  dear.' 

CANTO  XCIV. 


CHITRAKU'TA. 

There  long  the  son  of  Raghu  dwelt 
And  love  for  hill  and  wood  he  felt. 
Then  his  Videhan  spouse  to  please 
And  his  own  heart  of  woe  to  ease, 
Like  some  Immortal— Indra  so 
Might  Swarga's  charms  to  $achi  show- 
Drew  her  sweet  eyes  to  each  delight 
Of  Chitrakuta's  lovely  height : 
'  Though  reft  of  power  and  kingly  sway, 
Though  friends  and  home  are  far  away, 
I  cannot  mourn  my  altered  lot, 
Enamoured  of  this  charming  spot. 
Look,  darling,  on  this  noble  hill 
Which  sweet  birds  with  their  music  till. 
Bright  with  a  thousand  metal  dyes 
His  lofty  summits  cleave  the  skies. 
See,  there  a  silvery  sheen  is  spread, 
And  there  like  blood  the  rocks  are  red. 
There  shows  a  streak  of  emerald  green, 
And  pink  and  yellow  glow  between. 
There  where  the  higher  peaks  ascend, 
Crystal  and  flowers  and  topaz  blend, 
And  others  flash  their  light  afar 
Like  mercury  or  some  fair  star  : 
With  such  a  store  of  metals  dyed 
The  king  of  hills  is  glorified. 
There  through  the  wild  birds'  populous 

home 

The  harmless  bear  and  tiger  roam  : 
Hyaenas  range  the  woody  slopes 
With  herds  of  deer  and  antelopes. 
See,  love,  the  trees  that  clothe  his  side 
All  lovely  in  their  summer  pride, 
In  richest  wealth  of  leaves  arrayed, 
With  flower  and  fruit  and  light  and  shade, 
Look  where  the  young  Rose-apple  glows  ; 
What  loaded  boughs  the  Mango  shows; 
See,  waving  in  the  western  wind 
The  light  leaves  of  the  Tamarind, 
And  mark  that  giant  Peepul  through 
The  feathery  clump  of  tali  bamboo.1 

1  These  ten  lines  are  a  substitution  for, 
and  not  a  translation  of  the  text  which 
Carey  and  Marshman  thus  render  :  'This 
mountain  adorned  with  mango,1  jumlooo,'4 
j*  lodhr<V  pialtf 


Canto  XCV. 


THE  RAMA  YAK. 


SOS 


Look,  on  the  level  lands  above, 
Delighting  in  successful  love 
In  sweet  enjoyment  many  a  pair 
Of  heavenly  minstrels  revels  there, 
While  overhanging  boughs  support 
Their  swords  and  mantles  as  they  sport  ; 
Then  see  that  pleasant  shelter  where 
Play  the  bright  Daughters  of  the  Air.1 
The  mountain  seems  with  bright  cascade 
And  sweet  rill  bursting  from  the  shade, 
Like  some  majestic  elephant  o'er 
Whose  burning  head  the  torrents  pour. 
Where  breathes  the  man  who  would  not 

feel 

Delicious  languor  o'er  him  steal, 
As  the  young  morning  breeze  that  springs 
From  the  cool  cave  with  balmy  wings, 
Breathes  round  him  laden  with  the  scent 
Of  bud  and  blossom  dew-  besprent  ? 
If  many  autumns  here  I  spent 
With  thee,  mv  darling  innocent^ 
And  Lakshman,  I  should  never  know 
The  torture  of  the  fires  of  woe, 
This  varied  scene  so  charms  my  sight, 
This  mount  so  fills  me  with  delight, 
Where  flowers  in  wild  profusion  spring, 
And  ripe  fruits  glow  and  sweet  birds  sing. 
My  beauteous  one,  a  double  good 
Springs  from  my  dwelling  in  the  wood  : 
Loosed  is  the  bond  my  sire  that  tied, 
And  Bharat  too  is  gratified. 
My  darling,  dost  thou  feel  with  me 
Delight  from  every  charm  we  see, 
Of  which  the  mind  and  every  sense 
Feel  the  enchanting  influence  ? 
My  fathers  who  have  passed  away, 
The  royal  saints,  were  wont  to  say 


vyfl,  9  tinisha,10 
tiudooka,1  2  bamboo,1  3  kashmaree,1  4  uris- 
ta,  1  5  vuiuna,  1  6  madAooka,  1  7  tilaka,  1  8 
vuduree,  19  amlwka,  ao  nipa,  '2l  vetr#,22 
dh?4nw%n#,a3  veejakfl,2*  and  other  trees 
affording  flowers,  and  fruits,  and  the  most 
delightful  shade,  how  charming  does  it 
appear  !  ' 

»Mangifera  Indica,  '^Eugenia  Jamboli- 
fera.  3Terminaliaalata  tomentosa.  4Thia 
tree  is  not  ascertained.  5ChironjiaSapida. 
6Artocarpus  integrifolia.  7GrisIeatomen- 
tosa.8Allangium  hexapetalum.  9Averrhoa 
carimbola.  10Dalbergia  Oujeinensis. 
1  J  (Egle  marmelos.  J  2  Diospyrus  melanoxy- 
lon.  i3Well  known.  '  4Gmelina  Arborea. 
1  5Sapindus  Saponaria.  1  6Cratoeva  tapia. 
1  7Bassia  la  tifolia.  1  8Not  yet  ascertained. 
19Zizyphus  jujuba.  20Phyllanthus  em- 
blica.  2lNauclea  Orientalis.  22Calamus- 
rotang.  23Echites  antidysenterica.  34The 
citron  tree.' 

1  VidyadhariS)  Spirits  of  Air,  sylphs, 


That  life  in  woodland  shades  like  this 

Secures  a  king  immortal  bliss* 

See,  round  the  hill  at  random  thrown, 

Huge  masses  lie  of  rugged  stone 

Of  every  shape  and  many  a  hue, 

Yellow  and  white  and  red  and  blue, 

But  all  is  fairer  still  by  night : 

Each  rock  reflects  a  softer  light, 

When  the  whole  mount  from  foot  to  crest 

In  robes  of  lambent  flame  is  dressed  ; 

When  from  a  million  herbs  a  blaze 

Of  their  own  luminous  glory  plays, 

And  clothed  in  fire  each  deep  ravine, 

Each  pinnacle  and  crag  is  seen. 

Some  parts  the  look  of  mansions  wear, 

And  others  are  as  gardens  fair, 

While  others  seem  a  massive  block 

Of  solid  undivided  rock. 

Behold  those  pleasant  bedso'erlaid 

With  lotus  leaves,  for  lovers  made, 

Where  mountain  birch  and  costua  throw 

Cool  shadows  on  the  pair  below. 

See  where  the  lovers  in  their  play 

Have  cast  their  flowery  wreaths  away, 

And  fruit  and  lotus  buds  that  crowned 

Their  brows  lie  trodden  on  the  ground. 

North  Kuru's  realm  is  fair  to  see, 

Vasvaukasara,1  Nalini," 

But  rich  in  fruit  and  blossom  still 

More  fair  is  Chitrakuta's  hill. 

Here  shall  the  years  appointed  glide 

With  thee,  my  beauty,  by  my  side, 

And  Lakshman  ever  near  ; 
Here  shall  I  live 'in  all  delight, 
Make  my  ancestral  fame  more  bright, 
Tread  in  their  path  who  walk  aright, 

And  to  my  oath  adhere.' 

CANTO  XCV. 

MANDAKINr. 

Then  Rama,  like  the  lotus  eyed, 
Descended  from  the  mountain  side, 
And  to  the  Maithil  lady  showed 
The  lovely  stream  that  softly  flowed. 
And  thus  Ayodhya's  lord  addressed 
His  bride,  of  dames  the  loveliest, 
Child  of  Videha's  king,  her  face 
Bright  with  the  fair  moon's  tender  grace  ; 
'  How  sweetly  glides,  O  darling,  look, 
Mandakini's  delightful  brook, 
Adorned  with  islets,  blossoms  gay, 
And  sarases  and  swans  at  play  1 


1  A  lake  attached  either  to  Amaravati 
the  residence  of  Indra,  or  Alaka.  that  of 
Kuvera. 


8  The  Ganges  of  heaven. 


204 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Booh  II. 


The  trees  with  which  her  banks  are  lined 

Show  flowers  and  fruit  of  every  kind : 

The  match  in  radiant  sheen  is  she 

Of  King  Kuvera's  Nalini.1 

My  heart  exults  with  pleasure  new 

The  shelving  band  and  ford  to  view, 

Where  gathering  herds  of  thirsty  deer 

Disturb  the  wave  that  ran  so  clear. 

Now  look,  those  holy  hermits  mark 

In  skins  of  deer  and  coats  of  bark  ; 

With  twisted  coils  of  matted  hair, 

The  reverend  men  are  bathing  there, 

And  as  they  lift  their  arms  on  high 

The  Lord  of  Day  they  glorify  : 

These  best  of  saints,  my  large-eyed  spouse, 

Are  constant  to  their  sacred  vows. 

The  mountain  dances  while  the  trees 

Bend  their  proud  summits  to  the  breeze, 

And  scatter  many  a  flower  and  bud 

From  branches  that  o'erhang  the  flood. 

There  flows  the  stream  like  lucid  pearl, 

Bound  islets  here  the  currents  whirl, 

And  perfect  saints  from  middle  air 

Are  flocking  to  the  waters  there. 

See,  there  lie  flowers  in  many  a  heap 

From  boughs  the  whistling*  breezes  sweep, 

And  others  wafted  by  the  gale 

Down  the  swift  current  dance  and  sail. 

Now  see  that  pair  of  wild-fowl  rise, 

Exulting  with  their  joyful  cries  : 

Hark,  darling,  wafted  from  afar 

How  soft  their  pleasant  voices  are, 

To  gaze  on  Chitrakuta's  hill, 

To  look  upon  this  lovely  rill, 

To  bend  mine  eyes  on  thee,  dear  wife, 

Is  sweeter  than  my  city  life. 

Come,  bathe  we  in  the  pleasant  rill 

Whose  dancing  waves  are  never  still, 

Stirred  by  those  beings  pure  from  sin, 

The  sanctities  who  bathe  therein  : 

Come,  dearest,  to  the  stream  descend, 

Approach  her  as  a  darling  friend, 

And  dip  thee  in  the  silver  flood 

Which  lotuses  and  lilies  stud. 

Let  this  fair  hill  Ayodhya  seem, 

Its  silvan  things  her  people  deem, 

And  let  these  waters  as  they  flow 

Our  own  beloved  Sarju  show. 

How  blest,  mine  own  dear  love,  am  I ; 

Thou,  fond  and  true,  art  ever  nigh, 

And  duteous,  faithful  Lakshman  stays 

Beside  me,  and  my  word  obeys.  " 

Here  every  day  I  bathe  me  thrice, 

Fruit,  honey,  roots  for  food  suffice, 

And  ne'er  my  thoughts  with  longing  stray 

To  distant  home  or  royal  sway. 

For  who  this  charming  brook  can  see 

Where  herds  of  roedeer  wander  free, 


1  Nalini,  as  here,  may  be  the  name  of 
any  lake  covered  with  lotuses. 


And  on  the  flowery- wooded  brink 
Apes,  elephants,  and  lions  drink, 

Nor  feel  all  sorrow  fly  ?' 
Thus  eloquently  spoke  the  pride 
Of  Raghu's  children  to  his  bride, 
And  wandered  happy  by  her  side 
Where  Chitrakuta  azure-dyed 

Uprears  his  peaks  on  high. 


CANTO  XCVL* 


THE  MAGIC  SHAFT. 

Thus  Rama  showed  to  JanaK's  child 

The  varied  beauties  of  the  wild, 

The  hill,  the  brook  and  each  fair  spot, 

Then  turned  to  seek  their  leafy  cot. 

North  of  the  mountain  Rama  found 

A  cavern  in  the  sloping  ground, 

Charming  to  view,  its  floor  was  strown 

With  many  a  mass  of  ore  and  stone, 

In  secret  shadow  far  retired 

Where  gay  birds  sang  with  joy  inspired, 

And  trees  their  graceful  branches  swayed 

With  loads  of  blossom  downward  weighed. 

Soon  as  he  saw  the  cave  which  took 

Each  living  heart  and  chained  the  look, 

Thus  Rama  spoke  to  Sita  who 

Gazed  wondering  on  the  silvan  view : 

'  Does  this  fair  cave  beneath  the  height, 

Videhan  lady,  charm  thy  sight  ? 

Then  let  us  resting  here  a  while 

The  languor  of  the  way  beguile. 

That  block  of  stone  so  smooth  and  square 

Was  set  for  thee  to  rest  on  there, 

And  like  a  thriving  Kesar  tree 

This  flowery  shrub  o'ershadows  thee.1 

Thus  Rama  spoke,  and  Janak's  child, 

By  nature  ever  soft  and  mild, 

In  tender  words  which  love  betrayed 

Her  answer  to  the  hero  made  : 

*  O  pride  of  Raghu's  children,  still 
My  pleasure  is  to  do  thy  will. 
Enough  for  me  thy  wish  to  know  : 
Far  hast  thou  wandered  to  and  fro.' 

Thus  Sita  spake  in  gentle  tone, 
And  went  obedient  to  the  stone. 
Of  perfect  face  and  faultless  limb 
Prepared  to  rest  a  while  with  him. 
And  Rama,  as  she  thus  replied, 
Turned  to  his  spouse  again  and  cried  : 

*  Thou  seest,  love,  this  flowery  shade 
For  silvan  creatures'  pleasure  made. 
How  th.e  gum  streams  from  trees  and  plants 
Torn  by  the  tusks  of  elephants  ! 

1  This  canto  is  allowed,  by  Indian  com- 
mentators, to  be  an  interpolation.  It  can- 
not be  the  work  of  Vulmiki. 


Canto  XC  VI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


205 


Through  all  the  forest  clear  and  high 
Resounds  the  shrill  cicala's  cry. 
Hark  ho\v  the  kite  above  us  moans, 
And  call&  her  young  in  piteous  tones  ; 
So  may  my  hapless  mother  be 
Still  mourning  in  her  home  for  me. 
There  mounted  on  that  lofty  Sal 
The  loud  Bhringraj1  repeats  his  call : 
How  sweetly  now  he  tunes  his  throat 
Eesponsive  to  the  KoiTs  note. 
Or  else  the  bird  that  now  has  sung 
May  be  himself  the  Koil's  young, 
Linked  with  such  winning  sweetness  are 
The  notes  he  pours  irregular. 
See,  round  the  blooming  Mango  clings 
That  creeper  with  her  tender  rings, 
So  in  thy  love,  when  none  is  near, 
Thine  arms  are  thrown  round  me.  my  dear.' 

Thus  in  his  joy  he  cried  ;  and  she, 
Sweet  speaker,  on  her  lover's  knee, 
Of  faultless  limb  and  perfect  face, 
Grew  closer  to  her  lord's  embrace. 
Jteclining  in  her  husband's  arms, 
A  goddess  in  her  wealth  of  charms, 
She  filled  his  loving  breast  anew 
With  mighty  joy  that  thrilled  him  through. 
His  finger  on  the  rock  he  laid, 
Which  veins  of  sanguine  ore  displayed, 
And  painted  o'er  his  darling's  eyes 
The  holy  sign  in  mineral  dyes. 
Bright  on  her  brow  the  metal  lay 
Like  the  young  sun's  first  gleaming  ray, 
And  showed  her  in  her  beauty  fair 
As  the  soft  light  of  morning's  air. 
Then  from  the  Kesar's  laden  tree 
He  picked  fair  blossoms  in  his  glee, 
And  as  he  decked  each  lovely  tress, 
His  heart  o'erflowed  with  happiness. 
So  resting  on  that  rocky  seat 
A  while  they  spent  in  pastime  sweet, 
Then  onward  neath  the  shady  boughs 
Went  Rama  with  his  Maithil  spouse. 
She  roaming  in  the  forest  shade 
Where  every  kind  of  creature  strayed 
Observed  a  monkey  wandering  near, 
And  clung  to  Rama's  arm  in  fear. 
The  hero  Rama  fondly  laced 
His  mighty  arms  around  her  waist, 
Consoled  his  beauty  in  her  dread, 
And  scared  the  Monkey  till  he  fled. 
That  holy  mark  of  sanguine  ore 
That  gleamed  on  Sita's  brow  before, 
Shone  by  that  close  embrace  impressed 
Upon  the  hero's  ample  chest. 
Then  Sita,  when  the  beast  who  led 
The  monkey  troop,  afar  had  fled, 
Laughed  loudly  in  light-hearted  glee 
That  mark  on  Rama's  chest  to  see. 


1  A  fine  bird  with  a  strong,  sweet   note, 
and  great  imitative  powers, 


A  clump  of  bright  Asokas  fired 
The  forest  in  their  bloom  attired: 
The  restless  blossoms  as  they  gleamed 
A  host  of  threatening  monkevs  seemed. 
Then  Sita  thus  to  Rama  cried, 
As  longinly  the  flowers  she  eyed  : 
*  Pride  of  thy  race,  now  let  us  go 
Where  those  Asoka  blossoms  grow.' 
He  on  his  darling's  pleasure  bent 
With  his  fair  goddess  thither  went 
And  roamed  delighted  through  the  wood 
Where  blossoming  Asokas  st'>od, 
As  $iva  with  Queen  Uma  roves 
Through  Himavan's  majestic  groves. 
Bright  with  purpureal  glow  the  pair 
Of  happy  lovers  sported  there, 
And  each  upon  the  other  set 
A  flower-inwoven  coronet. 
There  many  a  crown  and  chain  they  wove 
Of  blooms  from  that  Asoka  grove, 
And  in  their  graceful  sport  the  two 
Fresh  beauty  o'er  the  mountain  threw. 
The  lover  let  his  love  survey 
Each  pleasant  spot  that  round  them  lay, 
Then  turned  they  to  their  green  retreat 
Where  all  was  garnished,  gay,  and  neat. 
By  brotherly  affection  led, 
Sumitra's  son  to  meet  them  sped, 
And  showed  the  labours  of  the  day 
Done  while  his  brother  was  away. 
There  lay  ten  black-deer  duly  slain 
With  arrows  pure  of  poison  stain, 
Piled  in  a  mighty  heap  to  dry, 
With  many  another  carcass  nigh. 
And  Lakshman's  brother  saw,  o'erjoyed, 
The  work  that  had  his  hands  employed, 
Then  to  his  consort  thus  he  cried  : 
'  Now  be  the  general  gifts  supplied.' 
Then  Sita,  fairest  beauty,  placed 
The  food  for  living  things  to  taste, 
And  set  before  the  brothers  meat 
And  honey  that  the  pair  might  eat. 
They  ate  the  meal  her  hands  supplied, 
Their  lips  with  water  purified  : 
Then  Janak's  daughter  sat  at  last 
And  duly  made  her  own  repast. 
The  other  venison,  to  be  dried, 
Piled  up  in  heaps  was  set  aside, 
And  Rama  told  his  wife  to  stay 
And  drive  the  flocking  crows  away. 
Her  husband  saw  her  much  distressed 
By  one  more  bold  than  all  the  rest, 
Whose  wings  where'er  he  chose  could  fly, 
Now  pierce  the  earth,  now  roam  the  sky. 
Then  Rama  laughed  to  see  her  stirred 
To  anger  by  the  plaguing  bird : 
Proud  of  his  love  the  beauteous  dame 
With  burning  rage  was  all  allame. 
Now  here,  now  there,  again,  again 
She  chased  the  crow,  but  all  in  vain, 
Enraging  her,  so  quick  to  strike 


206 


THE  H1MAYAN. 


Sotik  II. 


With  beak  and  wing  and  claw  alike : 
Then  how  the  proud  lip  quivered,  how 
The  dark  frown  marked  her  angry  brow  I 
When  Rama  saw  her  cheek  aglow 
With  passion,  he  rebuked  the  crow. 
But  bold  in  impudence  the  bird, 
With  no  respect  for  Rama's  word, 
Fearless  again  at  Sita  flew : 
Then  Rama's  wrath  to  fury  grew. 
The  hero  of  the  mighty  arm. 
Spoke  o'er  a  shaft  the  mystic  charm, 
Laid  the  dire  weapon  on  his  bow 
And  launched  it  at  the  shameless  crow. 
The  bird,  empowered  by  Gods  to  spring 
Through  earth  itself  on  rapid  wing, 
Through  the  three  worlds  in  terror  fled 
Still  followed  by  that  arrow  dread. 
Where'er  he  flew,  now  here  now  there, 
A  cloud  of  weapons  filled  the  air. 
Back  to  the  high- sou  led  prince  he  fled 
And  bent  at  Rama's  feet  his  head, 
And  then,  as  Sita  looked,  began 
His  speech  in  accents  of  a  man  : 
O  pardon,  and  for  pity's  sake 
Spare,  Rama,  spare  my  life  to  take ! 
Where'er  I  turn,  where'er  I  flee, 
No  shelter  from  this  shaft  I  see.' 

The  chieftain  heard  the  crow  entreat 
Helpless  and  prostrate  at  his  feet, 
And  while  soft  pity  moved  his  breast, 
With  wisest  speech  the  bird  addressed  : 
'  I  took  the  troubled  Sita's  part, 
And  furious  anger  filled  my  heart. 
Then  on  the  string  my  arrow  lay 
Charmed  with  a  spell  thy  life  to  slay. 
Thou  seekest  now  my  feet,  to  crave 
Forgiveness  and  thy  life  to  save. 
So  shall  thy  prayer  have  due  respect : 
The  suppliant  I  must  still  protect. 
But  ne'er  in  vain  this  dart  may  flee  : 
Yield  for  thy  life  a  part  of  thee, 
What  portion  of  thy  body,  say, 
Shall  this  mine  arrow  rend  away  ? 
Thus  far,  O  bird,  thus  far  alone 
On  thee  my  pity  may  be  shown. 
Forfeit  a  part  thy  life  to  buy : 
Tis  better  so  to  live  than  die.' 
Thus  Rama  spoke :  the  bird  of  air 
Pondered  his  speech  with  anxious  care, 
And  wisely  deemed  it  good  to  give 
One  of  his  eyee  that  he  might  live. 
To  Raghu's  son  he  made  reply  : 
*  0  Rama,  I  will  yield  an  eye. 
So  let  me  in  thy  grace  confide 
And  live  hereafter  single-eyed.' 
Then  Rama  charged  the  shaft,  and  lo, 
Full  in  the  eye  it  smote  the  crow. 
And  the  Videhan  lady  gazed 
Upon  the  ruined  eye  amazed. 
The  crow  to  Rama  humbly  bent, 
Then  where  his  fancy  led  he  went. 


R£ma  with  Lakshman  by  his  side 
With  needful  work  was  occupied, 

CANTO  XCVII. 


LAKSHMAN'S  ANGER. 

Thus  Rama  showed  his  love  the  rill 

Whose  waters  ran  beneath  the  hill, 

Then  resting  on  his  mountain  seat 

Refreshed  her  with  the  choicest  meat. 

So  there  reposed  the  happy  two  : 

Then  Bharat's  army  nearer  drew  : 

Rose  to  the  skies  a  dusty  cloud, 

The  sound  of  trampling  feet  was  loud. 

The  swelling  roar  of  marching  men 

Drove  the  roused  tiger  from  his  den, 

And  scared  amain  the  serpent  race 

Flying  to  hole  and  hiding-place. 

The  herds  of  deer  in  terror  fled, 

The  air  was  filled  with  birds  o'erhead, 

The  bear  began  to  leave  his  tree, 

The  monkey  to  the  cave  to  flee. 

Wild  elephants  were  all  amazed 

As  though  the  wood  around  them  blazed. 

The  lion  oped  his  ponderous  jaw, 

The  buffalo  looked  round  in  awe. 

The  prince,  who  heard  the  deafening  sound, 

And  saw  the  silvan  creatures  round 

Fly  wildly  startled  from  their  rest, 

The  glorious  Lakshman  thus  addressed  : 

'  Sumitra's  noble  son  most  dear, 

Hark,  Lakshman,  what  a  roar  1  hear, 

The  tumult  cf  a'cpming  crowd. 

Appalling,  deafening,  deep,  and  loud  ! 

The  din  that  yet  more  fearful  grows 

Scares  elephants  and  buffaloes, 

Or  frightened  by  the  lions,  deer 

Are  flying  through  the  wood  in  fear. 

I  fain  would  know  who  seeks  this  place : 

Comes  prince  or  monarch  for  the  chase  ? 

Or  does  some  mighty  beast  of  prey 

Frighten  the  silvan  herds  away  ? 

'Tis  hard  to  reach  this  mountain  height, 

Yea,  e'en  for  birds  in  airy  flight. 

Then  fain,  O  Lakshman,  would  I  know 

What  cause  disturbs  the  forest  so.' 

Lakshman  in  haste,  the  wood  to  view, 
Climbed  a  high  Sal  that  near  him  grew, 
The  forest  all  around  he  eyed, 
First  gazing  on  the  eastern  side. 
Then  northward  when  his  eyes  he  bent 
He  saw  a  mighty  armament 
Of  elephants.,  and  cars,  and  horse, 
And  men  on  foot,  a  mingled  force, 
And  banners  waving  in  the  breeze, 
And  spoke  to  Rama  words  like  these  : 
'  Quick,  quick,  my  lord,  put  out  the  fire, 
Let  bit&  to  the  eave  retire. 


Canto  XCVIII. 


TBE  HAM  AY  AN. 


207 


Thy  coat  of  mail  around  thee  throw, 
Prepare  thine  arrows  and  thy  bow.' 

In  enger  haste  thus  Lakshman  cried, 
And  Rama,  Jion  lord,  replied  : 
'  Still  closer  be  the  army  scanned, 
And  say  who  leads  the  warlike  band.' 
Lakshman  his  answer  thus  returned, 
As  furious  rage  within  him  burned, 
Exciting  him  like  kindled  tire 
To  scorch  the  army  in  his  ire  : 
1  'Tis  Bharat:  he  has  made  the  throne 
By  consecrating  rites  his  own  : 
To  gain  the  whole  dominion  thus 
He  comes  in  arms  to  slaughter  us. 
I  mark  tree-high  upon  his  car 
His  flagstaff  of  the  Kovidar,1 
I  see  his  glittering  banner  glance, 
I  see  his  chivalry  advance  : 
I  see  his  eager  warriors  shine 
On  elephants  in  lengthened  line. 
Now  grasp  we  each  the  shafts  and  bow, 
And  higher  up  the  mountain  go. 
Or  in  this  place,  O  hero,  stand 
With  weapons  in  each  ready  hand. 
Perhaps  beneath  our  might  may  fall 
This  leader  of  the  standard  tall, 
And  Bharat  1  this  day  may  see 
Who  brought  this  mighty  woe  on  thee, 
Sita,  and  me,  who  drove  away 
My  brother  from  the  royal  sway. 
Bharat  our  foe  at  length  is  nigh, 
And  by  this  hand  shall  surely  die  : 
Brother,  I  see  no  sin  at  all 
If  Bharat  by  my  weapon  fall. 
No  fault  is  his  who  slays  the  foe 
Whose  hand  was  first  to  strike  he  blow: 
With  Bharat  now  the  crime  begins 
Who  against  thee  and  duty  sins. 
The  queen  athirst  for  royal  sway 
Will  see  her  darling  son  to-day 
Fall  by  this  hand,  like  some  fair  tree 
Struck  by  an  elephant,  slain  by  me. 
Kaikeyi's  self  shall  perish  too 
With  kith  and  kin  and  retinue, 
And  earth  by  my  avenging  deed 
Shall  from  this  mass  of  sin  be  freed. 
This  day  my  wrath,  too  long  restrained, 
Shall  fall  upon  the  foe,  unchained, 
Mad  as  the  kindled  flame  that  speeds 
Destroying  through  the  grass  and  reeds. 
This  day  mine  arrows  keen  and  fierce 
The  bodies  of  the  foe  shall  pierce  : 
The  woods  on  Chitrakuta's  side 
Shall  run  with  torrents  crimson-dyed. 
The  wandering  beasts  of  pray  shall  feed 
On  heart-cleft  elephant  and  steed, 
And  drag  to  mountain  caves  away 
The  bodies  that  my  arrows  slay. 
Doubt  not  that  Bharat  and  his  train 


Bauhinea  variegata,  a  species  of  ebony. 


Shall  in  this  mighty  wood  be  slain  : 
So  shall  I  pay  the  debt  my  bow 
And  these  my  deadly  arrows  owe. 

CANTO  XCVIIL 


LAKSHMAN  CALMED. 

Then  Rama  nobly  calm  allayed 

The  wrath  that  Lakshman's  bosom  swayed; 

4  What  need  have  we  the  sword  to  wield, 

To  bend  the  bow  or  lift  the  shield, 

If  Bharat  brave,  and  wise,  and  good, 

Himself  has  sought  this  sheltering  wood  ? 

I  sware  my  father's  will  to  do, 

And  if  I  now  my  brother  slew 

What  gain  in  kingship  should  I  find, 

Despised  and  scorned  by  all  mankind  ? 

Believe  me,  e'en  as  I  would  shrink 

From  poisoned  meat  or  deadly  drink, 

No  power  or  treasure  would  1  win 

By  fall  of  friend  or  kith  or  kin. 

Brother,  believe  the  words  I  speak  : 

For  your  dear  sakes  alone  I  seek 

Duty  and  pleasure,  wealth  and  gain, 

A  holy  life,  a  happy  reign. 

If  royal  sway  my  heart  desires, 

My  brothers'  weal  the  wish  inspires; 

Their  bliss  and  safety  is  my  care,, 

By  this  uplifted  bowl  swear. 

'Twere  not  so  hard  for  me  to  gain 

This  broad  land  girdled  by  the  main, 

But  even  Jndra'g  royal  might 

Should  ne'er  be  mine  in  duty's  spate. 

If  any  bliss  my  soul  can  see 

Deprived  of  dear  $atrughna,  thee, 

And  Bharat,  may  the  flame  destroy 

With  ashy  gloom  the  selfish  joy. 

Far  dearer  than  this  life  of  mine. 

Knowing  the  custom  of  our  line, 

His  heart  with  fond  affection  fraught, 

Bharat  Ayodhya's  town  resougt, 

And  hearing  when  he  came  that  I, 

With  thee  and  Sita,  forced  to  fly 

With  matted  hair  and  hermit  dres# 

Am  wandering  in  the  wilderness, 

While  grief  his  troubled  senses  storms', 

And  tender  love  his  bosom  warms, 

From  every  thought  of  evil  clear, 

Is  come  to  meet  his  brother  here. 

Some  grievous  words  perchance  he  spoke 

Kaikeyi's  anger  to  provoke, 

Then  won  the  king,  and  comes  to  lay 

Before  my  feet  the  royal  sway. 

Hither,  methinks,  in  season  due 

Comes  Bharat  for  an  interview, 

Nor  in  his  secret  heart  has  he 

One  evil  thought  'gainst  thee  or  me. 

What  has  he  done  ere  now,  reflect ! 

How  failed  in  love  or  due  respect 


208 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book 


To  make  thee  doubt  his  faith  and  lay 

This  evil  to  his  charge  to-day  ? 

Thou  shouldst  not  join  with  Bharat's  namt 

So  harsh  a  speech  and  idle  blame. 

The  blows  thy  tongue  at  Bharat  deals, 

My  sympathizing  bosom  feels. 

How,  urged  by  stress  of  any  ill. 

Should  sons  their  father's  life-blood  spill 

Or  brother  slay  in  impious  strife 

A  brother  dearer  than  his  life  ? 

If  thou  these  cruel  words  hast  said 

By  strong  desire  of  empire  led, 

My  brother  Bharat  will  I  pray 

To  give  to  thee  the  kingly  sway. 

*  Give  him  the  realm',  my  speech  shall  be, 
And  Bharat  will,  methinks,  agree.' 

Thus  spoke  the  prince  whose  chief  delight 
Was  duty,  and  to  aid  the  right: 
And  Lakshman  keenly  felt  the  blame, 
And  shrank  within  himself  for  shame  : 
And  then  his  answer  thus  returned, 
With  downcast  eye  and  cheek  that  burned : 
4  Brother,  I  ween,  to  see  thy  face 
Our  sire  himself  has  sought  this  place.' 
Thus  Lakshman  spoke  and  stood  ashamed, 
And  Rama  saw  and  thus  exclaimed: 

*  It  is  the  strong- armed  monarch:  he 
Is  come,  methinks,  his  sons  to  see, 
To  bid  us  both  the  forest  quit 

For  joys  for  which  he  deems  us  fit : 
He  thinks  on  all  our  care  and  pain, 
And  now  would  lead  us  home  again. 
My  glorious  father  hence  will  bear 
Sita  who  claims  all  tender  care. 
I  see  two  coursers  fleet  as  storms, 
Of  noble  breed  and  lovely  forms. 
I  see  the  beast  of  mountain  size 
Who  bears  the  king  our  father  wise, 
The  aged  Victor,  march  this  way 
In  front  of  all  the  armed  array. 
But  doubt  and  fear  within  me  rise, 
For  when  I  look  with  eager  eyes 
I  see  no  white  umbrella  spread, 
World -famous,  o'er  the  royal  head. 
Now,  Lakshman,  from  the  tree  descend, 
And  to  my  words  attention  lend.' 

Thus  spoke  the  pious  prince  :  and  he 
Descended  from  the  lofty  tree, 
And  reverent  hand  to  hand  applied, 
Stood  humbly  by  his  brother's  side. 

The  host,  compelled  by  Bharat's  care, 
The  wood  from  trampling  feet  to  spare, 
Dense  crowding  half  a  league  each  way 
Encamped  around  the  mountain  lay. 
Below  the  tall  hill's  shelving  side 
Gleamed  the  bright  army  far  and  wide 

Spread  o'er  the  ample  space, 
By  Bharat  led  who  firmly  true 
In  duty  from  his  bosom  threw 
All  pride,  and  near  his  brother  drew 

To  win  the  hero's  grace. 


CANTO  XCIX. 


BHARAT'S  APPROACH. 

Soon  as  the  warriors  took  their  rest 
Obeying  Bharat's  high  behest, 
Thus  Bharat  to  £atrughna  spake  : 
*  A  band  of  soldiers  with  thee  take, 
And  with  these  hunters  o'er  and  o'er 
The  thickets  of  the  wood  explore. 
With  bow,  sword,  arrows  in  their  hands 
Let  Guha  with  his  kindred  bands 
Within  this  grove  remaining  trace 
The  children  of  Kakutstha's  race. 
And  I  meanwhile  on  foot  will  through 
This  neighbouring  wood  my  way  pursue, 
With  elders  and  the  twice-born  men, 
And  every  lord  and  citizen. 
There  is,  I  feel,  no  rest  for  me 
Till  Rama's  face  again  I  see, 
Lakshman,  in  arms  and  glory  great, 
And  Sita  born  to  happy  fate  : 
No  rest,  until  his  cheek  as  bright 
As  the  fair  moon  rejoice  my  sight, 
N  o  rest  until  I  see  the  eye 
With  which  the  lotus  petals  vie  ; 
Till  on  my  head  those  dear  feet  rest 
With  signs  of  royal  rank  impressed; 
None,  till  my  kingly  brother  gain 
His  old  hereditary  reign, 
Till  o'er  his  limbs  and  noble  head 
The  consecrating  drops  be  shed. 
How  blest  is  Janak's  daughter,  true 
To  every  wifely  duty,  who 
Cleaves  faithful  to  her  husband's  side 
Whose  realm  is  girt  by  Ocean's  tide  ! 
This  mountain  too  above  the  rest 
E'en  as  the  King  of  Hills  is  blest, — 
Whose  shades  Kakutstha's  scion  hold 
As  Nandan  charms  the  Lord  of  Gold. 
Yea,  happy  is  this  tangled  grove 
Where  savage  beasts  unnumbered  rove, 
Where,  glory  of  the  Warrior  race, 
King  Rama  finds  a  dwelling-place.' 

Thus  Bharat,  strong-armed  hero,  spake, 
And  walked  within  the  pathless  brake. 
O'er  plains  where  gay  trees  bloomed  he 

went, 

Through  boughs  in  tangled  net- work  bent, 
And  then  from  Rama's  cot  appeared 
The  banner  which  the  flame  upreared. 
And  Bharat  joyed  with  every  friend 
To  mark  those  smoky  wreaths  ascend  : 

Here  Rama  dwells, ''he  thought ;  'at  last 
The  ocean  of  our  toil  is  passed.' 

Then  sure  that  Rama's  hermit  cot 
Was  on  the  mountain's  side 

He  stayed  his  army  on  the  spot, 
And  on  with  Guha  hied, 


Canto  C. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


209 


CANTO  C. 
THE  MEETING. 

Then  Bharat  to  gatrughna  showed 
The  spot,  and  eager  onward  strode, 
First  bidding  Saint  Vasiahtha  bring 
The  widowed  consorts  of  the  king, 
As  by  fraternal  love  impelled 
His  onward  course  the  hero  held, 
jiumantra  followed  close  behind 
batrughna  with  an  anxious  mind  : 
Not  Bharat's  self  more  fain  could  be 
To  look  on  Kama's  face  than  he. 
A.S,  speeding  on,  the  spot  he  neared, 
imid  the  hermits'  homes  appeared 
His  brother's  cot  with  leaves  o'erspread, 
And  by  its  side  a  lowly  shed. 
Before  the  shed  great  heaps  were  left 
Of  gathered  flowers  and  billets  cleft, 
And  on  the  trees  hung  grass  and  bark 
Rama  and  Lakshmaa  's  path  to  mark  : 
And  heaps  of  fuel  to  provide 
Against  the  cold  stood  ready  dried. 
The  long-armed  chief,  as  on  he  went 
In  glory's  light  preeminent, 
With  joyous  words  like  these  addressed 
The  brave  $atrughna  and  the  rest  : 
1  This  is  the  place,  I  little  doubt, 
Which  Bharadvaja  pointed  out, 
Not  far  from  where  we  stand  must  be 
The  woodland  stream,  Mandakini. 
Here  on  the  mountain's  woody  side 
Roam  elephants  in  tusked  pride, 
And  ever  with  a  roar  and  cry 
Each  other,  as  they  meet,  defy. 
And  see  those  smoke-wreaths  thick  and 

dark : 

The  presence  of  the  flame  they  mark, 
Which  hermits  in  the  forest  strive 
By  every  art  to  keep  alive. 
O  happy  me  !  my  task  is  done, 
And  I  shall  look  on  Raghu's  son, 
Like  some  great  saint,  who  loves  to  treat 
His  elders  with  all  reverence  meet.' 

Thus  Bharat  reached  that  forest  rill, 
Thus  roamed  on  Chitrakuta's  hill ; 
Then  pity  in  his  breast  awoke, 
And  to  his  friends  the  hero  spoke  : 
*  Woe,  woe  upon  my  life  and  birth ! 
The  prince  of  men,  the  lord  of  earth 
Has  sought  the  lonely  wood  to  dwell 
Sequestered  in  a  hermit's  cell. 
Through  me,  through  me  these  sorrows  fall 
On  him  the  splendid  lord  of  all :  • 
Through  me  resigning  earthly  bliss 
He  hides  him  in  a  home  like  this. 
Now  will  I,  by  the  world  abhorred, 
Fall  at  the  dear  feet  of  my  lord, 
And  at  fair  Site's  too,  to  win 
His  pardon  for  my  heinous  sin,' 


As  thus  he  sadly  mourned  and  sighed, 
The  son  of  Dasaratha  spied 
A  bower  of  leafy  branches  made, 
Sacred  and  lovely  in  the  shade, 
Of  fair  proportions  large  and  tall, 
Well  roofed  with  boughs  of  palm  and  Sal, 
Arranged  in  order  due  o'erhead 
Like  grass  upon  an  altar  spread. 
Two  glorious  bows  were  gleaming  there, 
Like  Indra's1  in  the  rainy  air, 
Terror  of  foemen,  backed  with  gold, 
Meet  for  the  mightiest  hand  to  hold: 
And  quivered  arrows  cast  a  blaze 
Bright  gleaming  like  the  Day-God's  rays : 
Thus  serpents  with  their  eyes  aglow 
Adorn  their  capital  below.2 
Great  swords  adorned  the  cottage,  laid 
Each  in  a  case  of  gold  brocade  ; 
There  hung  the  trusty  shields,  whereon 
With  purest  gold  the  bosses  shone. 
The  brace  to  bind  the  bowman's  arm, 
The  glove  to  shield  his  hand  from  harm, 
A  lustre  to  the  cottage  lent 
From  many  a  golden  ornament : 
Safe  was  the  cot  from  fear  of  men 
As  from  wild  beasts  the  lion's  den. 
The  tire  upon  the  altar  burned, 
That  to  the  north  and  east  was  turned. 
Bharat  his  eager  glances  bent 
And  gazed  within  the  cot  intent ; 
In  deerskin  dress,  with  matted  hair, 
Kama  his  chief  was  sitting  there  : 
With  lion-shoulders  broad  and  strong, 
With  lotus  eyes,  arms  thick  and  long, 
The  righteous  sovereign,  who  should  be 
Lord  paramount  from  sea  to  sea, 
High-minded,  born  to  lofty  fate, 
Like  Brahma's  self  supremely  great ; 
With  Lakshman  by  his  side,  and  her, 
Fair  Sita,  for  hi's  minister. 
And  Bharat  gazing,  overcome 
By  sorrow  for  a  while  was  dumb, 
Then,  yielding  to  his  woe,  he  ran 
To  Rama  and  with  sobs  began : 
*  He  who  a  royal  seat  should  till 
With  subjects  round  to  do  his  will. 
My  elder  brother, — see  him  here, 
With  silvan  creatures  waiting  near. 
The  high-souled  hero,  wont  to  wear 
The  costliest  robes  exceeding  fair, 
Now  banished,  in  a  deerskin  dress, 
Here  keeps  the  path  of  righteousness. 
How  brooks  the  son  of  Raghu  now 
The  matted  locks  which  load  his  brow, 
Around  whose  princely  head  were  twined 
Sweet  blossoms  of  the  rarest  kind  ? 
The  prince  whose  merits  grew,  acquired 

1  The  rainbow  is  called  the  bow  of  Indra. 
a  Bhogavati,  the  abode  of  the  N&gas  or 
Serpent  race. 


210 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


tioolc  11 


By  rites  performed  as  he  desired, 
Would  now  a  store  of  merit  gain 
Bought  by  his  body's  toil  and  pain. 
Those  limbs  to  which  pure  sandal  lent 
The  freshness  of  its  fragrant  scent, 
Exposed  to  sun.  and  dust,  and  rain, 
Are  now  defiled  with  many  a  stain. 
And  I  the  wretched  cause  why  this 
Falls  on  the  prince  whose  right  is  bliss  ? 
Ah  me,  that  ever  I  was  born 
To  be  the  people's  hate  and  scorn  ! ' 

Thus  Bharat  cried  :  of  anguish  sprung, 
Great  drops  upon  his  forehead  hung. 
He  fell  o'erpowered — his  grief  was  such—- 
Ere he  is  brother's  feet  could  touch. 
As  on  the  glorious  prince  he  gazed 
In  vain  his  broken  voice  he  raised: 
•  Dear  lord  '—through  tears  and  sobbing 

came, 

The  only  words  his  lips  could  frame. 
And  brave  ^atrughna  wept  aloud, 
As  low  at  Rama's  feet  he  bowed. 
Then  Rama,  while  his  tears  ran  fast, 
His  arms  around  his  brothers  cast. 
Guha,  Sumantra  came  to  meet 
The  princes  in  their  wild  retreat. 
Vrihaspati  and  Bukra  bright 

Their  greeting  thus  rejoice  to  pay 
To  the  dear  Lord  who  brings  the  night, 

And  the  great  God  who  rules  the  day. 
Then  wept  the  dwellers  of  the  shade, 

Whose  eyes  the  princes,  meet  to  ride 
On  mighty  elephants,  surveyed  ; 

And  cast  all  thought  of  joy  aside. 


CANTO  CI. 


BHARAT  QUESTIONED, 

Then  Rama  gazed,  and  scarcely  knew 
Bharat  so  worn  and  changed  in  hue. 
He  raised  him,  kissed  him  on  the  head, 
Embraced  him,  and  thus  kindly  said  : 
'  Where  was  thy  father,  brother  dear, 
That  thou  art  come  to  seek  me  here  ? 
Unmeet,  if  he  be  living  yet, 
Thy  feet  within  the  wood  to  set. 
I  pray  thee  now  the  cause  declare 
Why  thou  hast  left  the  kingdom  there. 
With  matted  locks  and  deerskin  dress 
To  roam  the  distant  wilderness.' 

Thus  questioned  by  the  prince,  at  length 
Kaikeyi's  son  regained  his  strength, 
And  hand  to  hand  in  reverence  laid, 
To  Rama  thus  his  answer  made  : 
'  The  great-armed  monarch,  O  my  lard, 
Has  dared  to  do  a  thing  abhorred, 
Left  us,  and  grieving  for  his  son, 
A  home  among  the  Gods  has  won. 


My  mother  Queen  Kaikeyi  gave 

The  order  to  the  king  her  slave, 

And  at  the  bidding  of  the  dame 

He  wrought  the  sin  which  mars  his  fame 

Athirst  for  sway,  her  hopes  are  crossed, 

She  mourns  her  son,  her  husband  lost, 

And  through  her  impious  crime  will  go 

For  punishment  to  hell  below. 

Now  0  my  lord,  forgive  me  all  ; 

Be  gracious  to  thy  lowly  thrall : 

Anointed  king,  accept  to-day 

Like  Indra's  self,  the  royal  sway. 

Be  gracious,  Prince,  to  lord  and  peer, 

And  widowed  queens  who  seek  thee  here. 

Accept  the  kingdom  thine  by  right, 

And  so  thy  faithful  friends  delight. 

Let  the  broad  land  no  longer  be 

All  widowed  and  forlorn  of  thee: 

Let  the  full  moon  of  autumn  reign 

Triumphant  o'er  the  night  again. 

These  lords  and  I  before  thee  bend : 

O  Rama,  to  our  prayer  attend. 

O  do  not  thou  this  grace  den,?  : 

Thy  brother,  pupil,  slave  am  I. 

Look  on  this  venerable  ring, 

Advisers  of  our  sire  the  king, 

From  age  to  age  so  honoured  :  thou 

Shouldst  grant  their  supplication  now.1 

As  weeping  thus  the  hero  prayed, 
His  head  at  Rarna's  feet  he  laid. 
Like  a  mad  elephant  he  sighed : 
And  Rama  gazed  and  thus  replied  : 
'  How,  brother,  can  a  man  of  worth, 
True  to  his  vows,  of  noble  birth— 
A  man  like  me,  commit  a  sin 
The  lordship  of  the  land  to  win  ? 
No  slightest  shade  of  fault  I  see, 
O  tamer  of  thy  foes,  in  thee. 
But  ne'er  shouldst  thou  in  childish  thought 
The  queen  thy  mother  blame  in  aught. 
O  brother  wise  and  sinless,  know 
The  sacred  laws  would  have  it  so, 
That  from  good  wife  and  son  require 
Obedience  to  their  lord  and  sire. 
And  we  are  all  the  king's,  for  thus 
The  virtuous  ever  reckon  us  : 
Yea  brother,  be  it  known  to  thee, 
His  wives,  and  sons,  and  pupils  we. 
His  is  the  right,  if  he  deem  fit, 
To  bid  me,  throned  as  monarch,  sit, 
Or  in  a  coat  of  bark  expel, 
And  deerskin,  in  the  wood  to  dwell. 
And  O  remember,  best  of  all 
Who  act  as  claims  of  duty  call, 
As  to  a  virtuous  sire  is  due, 
Such  honour  claims  a  mother  too. 
So  they  whose  lives  have  ever  been 
By  duty  led,  the  king  and  queen, 
Said,  *  Rama,  seek  the  forest  shade  :* 
And  I  (what  could  I  else  ?)  obeyed. 
Thou  must  the  royal  power  retain, 


Janto  CHI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


211 


^nd  o'er  the  famed  Ayodhya  reign  : 
:  dressed  in  bark  my  days  will  spent 
iiVhere  Dandak's  forest  wilds  extend. 
Jo  Dasaratha  spoke,  our  king, 
Us  share  to  each  apportioning 
before  his  honoured  servants,  eyes  : 
jT hen,  heir  of  bliss,  he  sought  the  skies, 
the  righteous  monarch's  honoured  will, 
kYhom  all  revered,  must  guide  thee  still, 
&.nd  thou  must  still  enjoy  the  share 
Assigned  thee  by  our  father's  care, 
So  I  till  twice  seven  years  are  spent 
Will  roam  this  wood  in  banishment, 
Contented  with  the  lot  which  he, 
My  high-souled  sire,  has  given  me. 
I'he  charge  the  monarch  gave,  endeared 
l?o  all  mankind,  by  all  revered, 

Peer  of  the  Lord  Supreme, 
Far  better,  richer  far  in  gain 
Of  every  blessing  than  to  reign 

O'er  all  the  worlds  I  deem,' 


CANTO  GIL 


BHABAT'S  TIDINGS. 

He  spoke  :  and  Bharat  thus  replied  : 
If,  false  to  every  claim  beside, 
[  ne'er  in  kingly  duties  fail, 
What  will  my  royal  life  avail  ? 
Still  should  the  custom  be  observed, 
From  which  our  line  has  never  swerved, 
Which  to  the  younger  son  ne'er  gives 
rhe  kingdom  while  the  elder  lives. 
Now  to  Ayodhya  rich  and  fair 
With  me,  O  Raghu's  son,  repair, 
&nd  to  protect  and  gladden  all 
Our  house,  thyself  as  king  install. 
A.  king  the  world's  opinion  deems 
(V  man :  to  me  a  God  he  seems, 
Whose  life  in  virtuous  thoughts  and  deeds 
rhe  lives  of  other  men  exceeds. 
When  I  in  distant  Kekaya  stayed, 
A.nd  thou  hadst  sought  the  forest  shade, 
Our  father  died,  the  saints'  delight, 
So  constant  in  each  holy  rite. 
Scarce  with  thy  wife  and  Lakshman  thou 
Hadst  journeyed  forth  to  keep  the  vow, 
When  mourning  for  his  son,  forspent, 
Po  heavenly  rest  the  monarch  went. 
Then  up,  O  lord  of  men,  away  1 
His  funeral  rites  of  water  pay: 
t  and  $atrughna,  ere  we  came, 
Neglected  not  the  sacred  claim. 
But  in  the  spirit-world,  they  say, 
That  gift  alone  is  fresh  for  aye 
Which  best  beloved  hands  have  poured  ; 
And  thou  his  dearest  art,  my  lord, 


For  thee  he  longed,  for  thee  he  grieved, 
His  every  thought  on  thee  was  bent, 

And  crushed  by  woe,  of  thee  bereaved, 
He  thought  of  thee  as  henoe  he  went,1 


CANTO  GUI. 


THE  FUNERAL  LIBATION. 

When  Rama  heard  from  Bharat  each 
Dark  sorrow  of  his  mournful  speech, 
And  tidings  of  his  father  dead, 
His  spirits  fell,  his  senses  fled. 
For  the  sad  words  his  brother  spoke 
Struck  on  him  like  a  thunder  stroke, 
Fierce  as  the  bolt  which  Indra  throws, 
The  victor  of  his  Daitya  foes. 
Raising  his  arms  in  anguish,  he, 
As  when  the  woodman  hews  a  tree 
With  its  fair  flowery  branches  crowned, 
Fainted  and  fell  upon  the  ground. 
Lord  of  the  earth  to  earth  he  sank, 
Helpless,  as  when  a  towering  bank 
With  sudden  ruin  buries  deep 
An  elephant  who  lay  asleep. 
Then  swift  his  wife  and  brothers  flew, 
And  water,  weeping,  o'er  him  threw. 
As  slowly  sense  and  strength  he  gained, 
Fast  from  his  eyes  the  tears  he  rained, 
And  then  in  accents  sad  and  weak 
Kakutstha's  son  began  to  speak, 
And  mourning  for  the  monarch  dead, 
With  righteous  words  to  Bharat  said : 
'  What  calls  me  home,  when  he,  alas, 
Has  gone  the  way  which  all  must  pass  ? 
Of  him,  the  best  of  kings  bereft 
What  guardian  has  Ayodhya  left  ? 
How  may  I  please  his  spirit  ?  how 
Delight  the  high-souled  monarch  now, 
Who  wept  for  me  and  went  above 
By  me  ungraced  with  mourning  love  ? 
Ah,  happy  brothers  !  you  have  paid 
Due  offerings  to  his  parting  shade. 
E'en  when  my  banishment  is  o'er, 
Back  to  my  home  I  go  no  more, 
To  look  upon  the  widowed  state 
Reft  of  her  king,  disconsolate. 
E'en  then,  O  tamer  of  the  foe, 
If  to  Ayodhya's  town  I  go, 
Who  will  direct  me  as  of  old, 
Now  other  worlds  our  father  hold  ? 
From  whom,  my  brother,  shall  I  hear 
Those  words  which  ever  charmed  mine  ear 
And  filled  my  bosom  with  delight 
Whene'er  he  saw  me  act  aright  ? ' 

Thus  Rama  spoke  :  then  nearer  came 
And  looking  on  his  moonbright  dame, 
'  Sita,  the  king  is  gone,'  he  said : 
*  And  Lakshman,  know  thy  sire  is  dead, 


212 


THE  RAM  AY  AH. 


Book  II. 


And  with  the  Gods  on  high  enrolled : 
This  mournful  news  has  Bharat  told.1 
He  spoke  ;  the  noble  youths  with  sighs 
Eained  down  the  torrents  from  their  eyes, 
And  then  the  brothers  of  the  chief 
With  words  of  comfort  soothed  his  grief  : 
'  Now  to  the  king  our  sire  who  swayed 
The  earth  be  due  libations  paid,' 
Soon  as  the  monarch's  fate  she  knew, 
Sharp  pangs  of  grief  smote  Sita  through  : 
Nor  could  she  look  upon  her  lord 
With  eyes  from  which  the  torrents  poured. 
And  Rama  strove  with  tender  care 
To  soothe  the  weeping  dame's  despair, 
And  then,  with  piercing  woe  distressed, 
The  mournful  Lakshman  thus  addressed  : 
'  Brother,  I  pray  thee  bring  for  me 
The  pressed  fruit  of  the  Ingndi, 
And  a  bark  mantle  fresh  and  new, 
That  I  may  pay  this  offering  due. 
First  of  the  three  shall  Sita  go, 
Next  thou,  and  I  the  last :  for  so 
Moves  the  funereal  pomp  of  woe.'1 

Sumantra  of  the  noble  mind, 
Gentle  and  modest,  meek  and  kind, 
Who,  follower  of  each  princely  youth, 
To  Rama  clung  with  constant  truth, 
Now  with  the  royal  brothers'  aid 
The  grief  of  Rama  soothed  and  stayed, 
And  lent  his  arm  his  lord  to  guide 
Down  to  the  river's  holy  side. 
That  lovely  stream  the  heroes  found, 
With  woods  that  ever  blossomed  crowned, 
And  there  in  bitter  sorrow  bent 
Their  footsteps  down  the  fair  descent. 
Then  where  the  stream  that  swiftly  flowed 
A  pure  pellucid  shallow  showed, 
The  funeral  drops  they  duly  shed, 
And  '  Father,  this  be  thine,'  they  said. 
But  he,  the  lord  who  ruled  the  land, 
Filled  from  the  stream  his  hollowed  hand, 
And  turning  to  the  southern  side 
Stretched  out  his  arm  and  weeping  cried : 
'This  sacred  water  clear  and  pure, 
An  offering  which  shall  aye  endure, 
To  thee,  0  lord  of  kings,  I  give  : 
Accept  it  where  the  spirits  live  ! ' 

Then,  when  the  solemn  rite  was  o'er, 
Came  Rama  to  the  river  shore, 
And  offered,  with  his  brothers'  aid, 
Fresh  tribute  to  his  father's  shade. 


1  'The  order  of  the  procession  on  these 
occasions  is  that  the  children  precede  ac- 
cording to  age,  then  the  women  and  after 
that  the  men  according  to  age,  the  youngest 
first  and  the  eldest  last :  when  they  descend 
into  the  water  this  is  reversed  and  resumed 
when  they  come  out  of  it,' 

CAREY  AND  MAESHMAN, 


With  jujube  fruit  he  mixed  the  seed 
Of  Ingudis  from  moisture  freed, 
And  placed  it  on  a  spot  o'erspread 
With  sacred  grass,  and  weeping  said : 
Enjoy,  great  King,  the  cake  which  we 
Thy  children  eat  and  offer  thee ! 
For  ne'er  do  blessed  Gods  refuse 
To  share  the  food  which  mortals  use.1 

Then  Rama  turned  him  to  retrace 
The  path  that  brought  him  to  the  place, 
And  up  the  mountain's  pleasant  side 
Where  lovely  lawns  lay  fair,  he  hied. 
Soon  as  his  cottage  door  he  gained, 
His  brothers  to  his  breast  he  strained, 
From  them  and  Sita  in  their  woes 
So  loud  the  cry  of  weeping  rose, 
That  like  the  roar  of  lions  round 
The  mountain  rolled  the  echoing  sound. 
And  Bharat's  army  shook  with  fear 
The  weeping  of  the  chiefs  to  hear. 
1  Bharat,   the  soldiers  cried,  "tis  plain, 
His  brother  Rama  meets  again, 
And  with  th^se  cries  that  round  us  ring 
They  sorrow  for  their  sire  the  king.' 
Then  leaving  car  and  wain  behind, 
One  eager  thought  in  every  mind, 
Swift  toward  the  weeping,  every  man, 
As  each  could  find  a  passage,  ran. 
Some  thither  bent  their  eager  course 
With  car,  and  elephant,  and  horse, 
And  youthful  captains  on  their  feet 
With  longing  sped  their  lord  to  meet, 
As  though  the  new-come  prince  had  been 
An  exile  for  long  years  unseen. 
Earth  beaten  in  their  frantic  zeal 
By  clattering  hoof  and  rumbling  wheel, 
Sent  forth  a  deafening  noise  as  loud 
As  heaven  when  black  with  many  a  cloud 
Then,  with  their  consorts  gathered  near, 
Wild  elephants  in  sudden  fear 
Rushed  to  a  distant  wood,  and  shed 
An  odour  round  them  as  they  fled. 
And  every  silvan  thing  that  dwelt 
Within  those  shades  the  terror  felt, 
Deer,  lion,  tiger,  boar  and  roe, 
Bison,  wild-cow,  and  buffalo. 
And  when  the  tumult  wild  they  heard, 
With  trembling  pinions  flew  each  bird, 
From  tree,  from  thicket,  and  from  lake, 
Swan,  koil,  curlew,  crane,  and  drake. 
With  men  the  ground  was  overspread, 
With  startled  birds  the  sky  o'erhead. 
Then  on  his  sacrificial  ground 
The  sinless,  glorious  chief  was  found. 
Loading  with  curses  deep  and  loud 
The  hump-back  and  the  queen,  the  crow< 
Whose  cheeks  were  wet,  whose  eyes  wei 

dim, 

In  fond  affection  ran  to  him. 
While  the  big  tears  their  eyes  bedewed, 
He  looked  upon  the  inultitud  e, 


Canto  CIV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


213 


And  then  as  sire  and  mother  do, 
His  arms  about  his  loved  ones  threw. 
Some  to  his  feet  with  reverence  pressed, 

Some  in  his  arms  he  strained : 
Ea3h  friend,  with  kindly  words  addressed, 

Due  share  of  honour  gained. 
Then,  by  their  mighty  woe  o'ercome, 

The  weeping  heroes'  cry 
Filled,  like  the  roar  of  many  a  drum, 

"ill,  cavern,  earth,  and  sky. 


CANTO  CIV. 


THE  MEETING  WITH  THE  QUEENS, 

Vasishtha  with  his  soul  athirst 

To  look  again  on  Kama,  first 

In  line  the  royal  widows  placed, 

And  then  the  way  behind  them  traced. 

The  ladies  moving,  faint  and  slow, 

Saw  the  fair  stream  before  them  flow, 

And  by  the  bank  their  steps  were  led 

Which  the  two  brothers  visited. 

Kausalya  with  her  faded  cheek 

And  weeping  eyes  began  to  speak, 

And  thus  in  mournful  tones  addressed 

The  queen  Sumitra  and  the  rest : 

'  See  in  the  wood  the  bank's  descent, 

Which  the  two  orphan  youths  frequent, 

Whose  noble  spirits  never  fall, 

Though  woes  surround  them,  reft  of  all. 

Thy  son  with  love  that  never  tires 

Draws  water  hence  which  mine  requires. 

This  day,  for  lowly  toil  unfit, 

His  pious  task  thy  son  should  quit.' 

As  on  the  long-eyed  lady  strayed, 
On  holy  grass,  whose  points  were  laid 
Directed  to  the  southern  sky, 
The  funeral  offering  met  her  eye. 
When  Rama's  humble  gift  she  spied 
Thus  to  the  queens  Kausalya  cried  : 
'  The  gift  of  Rama's  hand  behold, 
His  tribute  to  the  king  high-souled, 
Offered  to  him,  as  texts  require, 
Lord  of  Ikshvaku's  line,  his  sire  ! 
Not  such  I  deem  the  funeral  food 
Of  kings  with  godlike  might  endued. 
Can  he  who  knew  all  pleasures,  he 
Who  ruled  the  earth  from  sea  to  sea, 
The  mighty  lord  of  monarchs,  feed 
On  Ingudi's  extracted  seed  ? 
In  all  the  world  there  cannot  be 
A  woe.  I  ween,  more  sad  to  see, 
Than  that  my  glorious  son  should  make 
His  funeral  gift  of  such  a  cake. 
The  ancient  text  1  oft  have  heard 
This  day  is  true  in  every  word  : 
'Ne'er  do  the  blessed  Gods  refuse 
To  eat  the  food  their  children  use.' 

The  ladies  soothed  the  weeping  dame  : 


To  Rama's  hermitage  they  came, 
And  there  the  hero  met  their  eyes 
Like  a  God  fallen  from  the  skies. 
Him  joyless,  reft  of  all,  they  viewed, 
And  tears  their  mournful  eyes  bedewed. 
The  truthful  hero  left  his  seat, 
And  clasped  the  ladies'  lotus  feet, 
And  they  with  soft  hands  brushed  away 
The  dust  that  on  his  shoulders  lay. 
Then  Lakshman,  when  he  saw  each  queen 
With  weeping  e'yes  and  troubled  mien, 
Near  to  the  royal  ladies  drew 
And  paid  them  gentle  reverence  too. 
He,  Dasaratha's  offspring,  signed 
The  heir  of  bliss  by  Fortune  kind, 
Received  from  every  dame  no  less 
Each  mark  of  love  and  tenderness. 
And  Sita  came  and  bent  before 
The  widows,  while  her  eyes  ran  o'er, 
And  pressed  their  feet  with  many  a  tear. 
They  when  they  saw  the  lady  dear 
Pale,  worn  with  dwelling  in  the  wild, 
Embraced  her  as  a  darling  child  : 
Daughter  of  royal  Janak,  bride 
Of  Dasaratha's'son,'they  cried, 
'  How  couldst  thou,  offspring  of  a  king, 
Endure  this  woe  and  suffering 
In  the  wild  forest  ?  When  I  trace 
Each  sign  of  trouble  on  thy  face — 
That  lotus  which  the  sun  has  dried, 
That  lily  by  the  tempest  tried, 
That  gold  whereon  the  dust  is  spread, 
That  moon  whence  all  the  light  is  fled—- 
Sorrow assails  my  heart,  alas  ! 
As  fire  consumes  the  wood  and  grass.' 
Then  Rama,  as  she  spoke  distressed, 
The  feet  of  Saint  Vasishtha  pressed, 
Touched  them  with  reverential  love, 

Then  near  him  took  his  seat : 
Thus  Indra  clasps  in  realms  above 

The  Heavenly  Teacher's1  feet. 
Then  with  each  counsellor  and  peer, 

Bharat  of  duteous  mind, 
With  citizens  and  captains  near, 

Sat  humbly  down  behind. 
When  with  his  hands  to  him  upraised, 

In  devotee's  attire, 
Bharat  upon  his  brother  gazed 

Whose  glory  shone  like  tire, 
As  when  the  pure  Mahendra  bends 

To  the  great  Lord  of  Life, 
Among  his  noble  crowd  of  friends 

This  anxious  thought  was  rife : 
4  What  words  to  Raghu's  son  to-day 

Will  royal  Bharat  speak, 
Whose  heart  has  been  so  prompt  to  pay 

Obeisance  fond  and  meek  ? ' 
Then  steadfast  Rama,  Lakshman  wise, 
Bharat  for  truth  renowned, 


Vrihaspati,  the  preceptor  of  the  Gods. 


214 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  II. 


Shone  like  three  fires  that  heavenward  rise 
With  holy  priests  around. 

CANTO  CT. 


RAMA'S   SPEECH. 

A  while  they  sat,  each  lip  compressed, 
Then  Bharat  thus  his  chief  addressed  ; 
'My  mother  here  was  made  content; 
To  me  was  given  the  government. 
This  now,  my  lord,  I  yield  to  thee : 
Enjoy  it,  from  all  trouble  free. 
Like  a  great  bridge  the  floods  have  rent, 
Impetuous  in  their  wild  descent, 
AH  other  hands  but  thine  in  vain 
Would  strive  the  burthen  to  maintain. 
In  vain  the  ass  with  steeds  would  vie, 
With  Tarkshya,1  birds  that  wing  the  sky; 
So,  lord  of  men,  my  power  is  slight 
To  rival  thine  imperial  might. 
Great  joys  his  happy  days  attend 
On  whom  the  hopes  of  men  depend, 
But  wretched  is  the  life  he  leads 
Who  still  the  aid  of  others  needs. 
And  if  the  seed  a  man  has  sown, 
With  care  and  kindly  nurture  grown, 
Rear  its  huge  trunk  and  spring  in  time 
Too  bulky  for  a  dwarf  to  climb, 
Yet,  with  perpetual  blossom  gay, 
!No  fruit  upon  its  boughs  display, 
[Ne'er  can  that  tree,  thus  nursed  in  vain, 
Approval  of  the  virtuous  gain. 
The  simile  is  meant  to  be 
Applied,  O  mighty-armed,  to  thee, 
Because,  our  lord  and  leader,  thou 
Protect est  not  thy  people  now. 
O,  be  the  longing  wish  fulfilled 
Of  every  chief  of  house  and  guild, 
To  see  again  their  sun-bright  lord 
Victorious  to  his  realm  restored  ! 
As  thou  returnest  through  the  crowd 
Let  roars  of  elephants  be  loud, 
And  each  fair  woman  lift  her  voice 
And  in  her  new-found  king  rejoice.' 

The  people  all  with  longing  moved, 
The  words  that  Bharat  spoke  approved, 
And  crowding  near  to  Rama  pressed 
The  hero  with  the  same  request. 
The  steadfast  Rama,  when  he  viewed 
His  glorious  brother's  mournful  mood, 
With  each  ambitious  thought  controlled; 
Thus  the  lamenting  prince  consoled  : 
4  I  cannot  do  the  things  I  will, 
For  Rama  is  but  mortal  still. 
Fate  with  supreme,  resistless  law 
This  way  and  that  its  slave  will  draw. 
All  gathered  heaps  must  waste  away, 
AH  lofty  lore  and  powers  decay. 

*  Garud,  the  king  of  birds, 


Death  is  the  end  of  life,  and  all, 

Now  firmly  joined,  apart  must  fall. 

One  fear  the  ripened  fruit  must  know, 

To  fall  upon  the  earth  below  ; 

So  every  man  who  draws  his  breath 

Must  fear  inevitable  death. 

The  pillared  mansion,  high,  compact, 

Must  fall  by  Time's  strong  hand  attacked; 

So  mortal  men,  the  gradual  prey 

Of  eld  and  ruthless  death,  decay. 

The  night  that  flies  no  more  returns  : 

Yamuna  for  the  Ocean  yearns  : 

Swift  her  impetuous  waters  flee, 

But  roll  not  backward  from  the  sea. 

The  days  and  nights  pass  swiftly  by 

And  steal  our  moments  as  they  fry, 

E'en  as  the  sun's  unpitying  rays 

Drink  up  the  floods  in  summer  blaze. 

Then  for  thyself  lament  and  leave 

For  death  of  other  men  to  grieve, 

For  if  thou  go  or  if  thou  stay, 

Thy  life  is  shorter  day  by  day. 

Death  travels  with  us  :  death  attends 

Our  steps  until  our  journey  ends, 

Death,  when  the  traveller  wins  the  goal, 

Returns  with  the  returning  soul. 

The  flowing  hair  grow*  white  and  thin, 

And  wrinkles  mark  the  altered  skin. 

The  ills  of  age  man's  strength  assail : 

Ah,  what  can  mortal  power  avail  ? 

Men  joy  to  see  the  sun  arise, 

They  watch  him  set  with  joyful  eyes  : 

But  ne'er  reflect,  too  blind  to  see, 

How  fast  their  own  brief  moments  flee. 

With  lovely  change  for  ever  new 

The  seasons'  sweet  return  they  view, 

Nor  think  with  heedless  hearts  the  while 

That  lives  decay  as  seasons  smile. 

As  haply  on  the  boundless  main 

Meet  drifting  logs  and  part  again, 

So  wives  and  children,  friends  and  gold, 

Ours  for  a  little  time  we  hold  : 

Soon  by  resistless  laws  of  fate 

To  meet  no  more  we  separate. 

In  all  this  changing  world  not  one 

The  common  lot  of  all  can  shun  : 

Then  why  with  useless  tears  deplore 

The  dead  whom  tears  can  bring  no  more  ! 

As  one  might  stand  upon  the  way 

And  to  a  troop  of  travellers  say  : 

'  If  ye  allow  it,  sirs,  J  too 

Will  travel  on  the  road  with  you  : ' 

So  why  should  mortal  man  lament 

When  on  that  path  his  feet  are  bent 

Which  all  men  living  needs  must  tread, 

Where  sire  and  ancestors  have  led? 

Life  flies  as  torrents  downward  fall 

Speeding  away  without  recall, 

So  virtue  should  our  thoughts  engage, 

For  bliss1  is  mortals'  heritage, 

1  To  be  won  by  virtue. 


Canto  CVI. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


215 


By  ceaseless  care  and  earnest  zeal 
For  servants  and  for  people's  weal, 
By  gifts,  by  duty  nobly  done, 
Our  glorious  sire  the  skies  lias  won. 
Our  lord  the  king,  o'er  earth  who  reigned, 
A  blissful  home  in  heaven  has  gained 
By  wealth  in  ample  largess  spent, 
And  many  a  rite  magnificent ; 
With  constant  joy  from  first  to  last 
A  long  and  noble  life  he  passed, 
Praised  by  the  good,  no  tears  should  dim 
Our  eyes,  O  brother  dear,  for  him. 
His  human  body,  worn  and  tried 
By  length  of  days,  he  cast  aside, 
And  gained  the  godlike  bliss  to  stray 
In  Brahma's  heavenly  home  for  aye. 
For  such  the  wise  as  we  are,  deep 
In  Veda  lore,  should  never  weep. 
Those  who  are  firm  and  ever  wise 
Spurn  vain  lament  and  idle  sighs. 
Be  self-possessed  :  thy  grief  restrain  : 
Go,  in  tuat  city  dwell  again. 
Keturn,  O  best  of  men,  and  be 
Obedient  to  our  sire's  decree, 
While  I  with  every  care  fulfil 
Our  holy  father's  righteous  will, 
Observing  in  the  lonely  wood 
His  charge  approved  by  all  the  good,' 

Thus  Rama  of  the  lofty  mind 
To  Bharat  spoke  his  righteous  speech, 

By  every  argument  designed 
Obedience  to  his  sire  to  teach, 

CANTO  CVI. 


BHARAT'S  SPEECH. 

Good  Bharat,  by  the  river  side, 
To  virtuous  Kama's  speech  replied, 
And  thus  with  varied  lore  addressed 
The  prince,  while  nobles  round  him  pressed: 
'  In  all  this  world  whom  e'er  can  we 
Find  equal,  scourge  of  foes,  to  thee? 
No  ill  upon  thy  bosom  weighs, 
No  thoughts  of  joy  thy  spirit  raise. 
Approved  art  thou  of  sages  old, 
To  whom  thy  doubts  are  ever  told. 
Alike  in  death  and  life,  to  thee 
The  same  to  be  and  not  to  be. 
The  man  who  such  a  soul  can  gain 
Can  ne'er  be  crushed  by  woe  or  pain. 
Pure  as  the  Gods,  high-minded,  wise, 
Concealed  from  thee  no  secret  lies. 
Such  glorious  gifts  are  all  thine  own, 
And  birth  and  death  to  thee  are  known, 
That  ill  can  ne'er  thy  soul  depress 
With  all-subduing  bitterness. 
O  let  my  prayer,  dear  brother,  win 
Thy  pardon  for  my  mother's  sin, 
Wrought  for  my  sake  who  willed  it  not 
When  absent  in  a  distant  spot. 
15 


Duty  alone  with  binding  chains 
The  vengeance  due  to  crime  restrains, 
Or  on  the  sinner  I  should  lift 
My  hand  in  retribution  swift. 
Can  I  who  know  the  right,  and  spring 
From  Dasaratha,  purest  king- 
Can  I  commit  a  heinous  crirae7 
Abhorred  by  all  through  endless  time? 
The  aged  king  I  dare  not  blame, 
Who  died  so  rich  in  holy  fame, 
My  honoured  sire,  my  parted  lord, 
E'en  as  a  present  God  adored. 
Yet  who  in  lore  of  duty  skilled 
So  foul  a  crime  has  ever  willed, 
And  dared  defy  both  gain  and  right 
To  gratify  a  woman's  spite  ? 
When  death  draws  near,  so  people  say, 
The  sense  of  creatures  dies  away; 
And  he  has  proved  the  ancient  saw 
By  acting  thus  in  spite  of  law. 
But  O  my  honoured  lord,  be  kind, 
Dismiss  the  trespass  from  thy  mind, 
The  sin  the  king  committed,  led 
By  haste,  his  consort's  wrath,  and  dread. 
For  he  who  veils  his  sire's  offence 
With  tender  care  and  reverence— 
His  sons  approved  by  all  shall  live  : 
Not  so  their  fate  who  ne'er  forgive. 
Be  thou,  my  lord,  the  noble  son, 
And  the  vile  deed  my  sire  has  done, 
Abhorred  by  all  the  virtuous,  ne'er 
Resent,  lest  thou  the  guilt  too  share. 
Preserve  us,  for  on  thee  we  call, 
Our  sire,  Kaikeyi,  me  and  all 
Thy  citizens,  thy  kith  arid  kin  ; 
Preserve  us  and  reverse  the  sin. 
To  live  in  woods  a  devotee 
Can  scarce  with  roval  tasks  agree, 
Nor  can  the  hermit's  matted  hair 
Suit  fitly  with  a  ruler's  care. 
Do  not,  my  brother,  do  not  still 
Pursue  this  life  that  suits  thee  ill. 
Mid  duties  of  a  king  we  count 
His  consecration  paramount, 
That  he  with  ready  heart  and  hand 
May  keep  his  people  and  his  land. 
What  Warrior  born  to  royal  sway 
From  certain  good  would  turn  away, 
A  doubtful  duty  to  pursue, 
That  mocks  him  with  the  distant  view? 
Thou  wouldst  to  duty  cleave,  and  gain 
The  meed  that  follows  toil  and  pain. 
In  thy  great  task  no  labour  spare  : 
Rule  the  four  castes  with  justest  care. 
Mid  all  the  four,  the  wise  prefer 
The  order  of  the  householder  :» 


1  The  four  religious  orders,  referable 
to  different  times  of  life  are,  that  of  the 
student,  that  of  the  householder,  that  of 
the  anchorite,  and  that  of  the  mendicant. 


216 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


II. 


Canst  thou,  whose  thoughts  to  duty  cleave, 

The  best  of  -a&the  orders  leave  ? 

My  better  thou  in  lore  divine, 

My  birth,  my  sense  must  yield  to  thine  : 

While  thou,  my  lord,  art  here  to  reign, 

How  shall  my  hands  the  rule  maintain  ? 

0  faithful  lover  of  the  right, 

Take  with  thy  friends  the  royal  might, 
Let  thy  sires'  realm,  from  trouble  free, 
Obey  her  rightful  king  in  thee. 
Here  let  the  priests  and  lords  of  state 
Our  monarch  duly  consecrate, 
With  prayer  and  holy  verses  blessed 
By  saint  Vasishtha  and  the  rest. 
Anointed  king  by  us,  again 
Seek  fair  Ayodhya,  there  to  reign, 
And  like  imperial  Indra  girt 
By  Gods  of  Storm,  thy  might  assert. 
From  the  three  debts'  acquittance  earn, 
And  with  thy  wrath  the  wicked  burn, 
O'er  all  of  us  thy  rule  extend, 
And  cheer  with  boons  each  faithful  friend. 
Let  thine  enthronement,  lord,  this  day 
Make  all  thy  lovers  glad  and  gay, 
And  let  all  those  who  hate  thee  flee 
To  the  ten  winds  for  fear  of  thee. 
Dear  lord,  my  mother's  words  of  hate 
With  thy  sweet  virtues  expiate, 
And  from  the  stain  of  folly  clear 
The  father  whom  we  both  revere. 
Brother,  to  me  compassion  show, 

1  pray  thee  with  my  head  bent  low, 
And  to  these  friends  who  on  thee  call, — 
As  the  Great  Father  pities  all. 

But  if  my  tears  and  prayers  be  vain, 
And  thou  in  woods  wilt  still  remain, 
I  will  with  thee  my  path  pursue 
And  make  my  home  in  forests  too.' 

Thus  Bharat  strove  to  bend  his  will 

With  suppliant  head,  but  he, 
Earth's  lord,  inexorable  still 

Would  keep  his  sire's  decree. 
The  firmness  of  the  noble  chief 

The  wondering  people  moved. 
And  rapture  mingling  with  their  grief, 

All  wept  and  all  approved. 
'  How  firm  his  steadfast  will,'  they  cried, 

*  Who  keeps  his  promise  thus  ! 
Ah,  to  Ayodhya's  town,'  they  sighed, 

'  He  comes  not  back  with  us.' 
The  holy  priests,  the  swains  who  tilled 

The  earth,  the  sons  of  trade, 
And  e'en  the  mournful  queens  were  filled 

With  joy  as  Bharat  prayed, 
And  bent  their  heads,  their  weeping  stilled 

A  while,  his  prayers  to  aid. 


1  To  Gods,  men,  and  Manes, 


CANTO  CVII. 


KAMA'S  SPEECH. 

Thug,  by  his  friends  encompassed  round, 

He  spoke,  and  Kama,  far  renowned, 

To  his  dear  brother  thus  replied, 

Whom  holy  rites  had  purified  : 

'  O  thou  whom  Queen  Kaikeyi  bare 

The  best  of  kings,  thy  words  are  fair. 

Our  royal  father,  when  of  yore 

He  wed  her,  to  her  father  swore 

The  best  of  kingdoms  to  confer, 

A  noble  dowry  meet  for  her  ; 

Then,  grateful,  on  the  deadly  day 

Of  heavenly  Gods'  and  demons'  iray, 

A  future  boon  on  her  bestowed 

To  whose  sweet  care  his  life  he  owed. 

She  to  his  mind  that  promise  brought, 

And  then  the  best  of  kings  besought 

To  bid  me  to  the  forest  flee, 

And  give  the  rule,  O  Prince,  to  thee. 

Thus  bound  by  oath,  the  king  our  lord 

Gave  her  those  boons  of  free  accord, 

And  bade  me,  i )  thou  chief  of  men, 

Live  iu  the  woods  four  years  and  ten. 

I  to  this  lonely  wood  have  hied 

With  faithful  Lakshman  by  my  side, 

And  Sita  by  no  fears  deterred, 

Besolved  to  keep  my  father's  word. 

And  thou,  my  noble  brother,  too 

Shouldst  keep  our  father's  promise  true: 

Anointed  ruler  of  the  state 

Maintain  his  word  inviolate. 

From  his  great  debt,  dear  brother,  free 

Our  lord  the  king  for  love  of  me, 

Thy  mother's  breast  with  joy  inspire, 

And  from  all  woe  preserve  thy  sire. 

'Tis  said,  near  Gaya's  holy  town1 

Gay  a,  great  saint  of  high  renown, 

This  text  recited  when  he  paid 

Due  rites  to  each  ancestral  shade  : 

'A  son  is  born  his  sire  to  free 
From  Put's  infernal  pains  : 

Hence,  saviour  of  his  father,  he 

The  name  of  Puttra  gains.'" 
Thus  numerous  sons  are  sought  by  prayer 
Iu  Scripture  trained  with  graces  fair, 

1  Gaya  is  a  very  holy  city  in  Behar 
Every  good  Hindu  ought  once  in  his  lif< 
to  make  funeral  offerings  in  Gaya  ii 
honour  of  his  ancestors. 

a  Put  is  the  name  of  that  region  of  hel 
to  which  men  are  doomed  who  leave  ii< 
son  to  perform  the  funeral  rites  which  an 
necessary  to  assure  the  happiness  of  tin 
departed.  Putra,  the  common  word  for  i 
son,  is  said  by  the  highest  authority  to  tx 
derived  from  Put  and  tra  deliverer. 


Canto  CIX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


SIT 


That  of  the  number  one  some  day 
May  funeral  rites  at  Gaya  pay. 
The  mighty  saints  who  lived  of  old 
This  holy  doctrine  ever  hold. 
Then,  best  of  men,  our  sire  release 
From  pains  of  hell,  and  give  him  peace. 
Now  Bharat,  to  Ayodhy£  speed, 
The  brave  Satrughna  with  thee  lead, 
Take  with  thee  all  the  twice-born  men, 
And  please  each  lord  and  citizen. 
I  now,  O  King,  without  delay 
To  Dandak  wood  will  bend  my  way, 
And  Lakshman  and  the  Maithil  dame 
Will  follow  still,  our  path  the  same. 
Now,  Bharat,  lord  of  men  be  thou, 

And  o'er  A}  odhya  reign  : 
The  silvan  world  to  me  shall  bow, 

King  of  the  wild  domain. 
Yea,  let  thy  joyful  steps  be  bent 

To  that  fair  town  to-day, 
And  I  as  happy  and  content, 

To  Dandak  wood  will  stray. 
The  white  umbrella  o'er  thy  brow 

Its  cooling  shade  shall  throw  : 
I  to  the  shadow  of  the  bough 

And  leafy  trees  will  go. 
Satrughna,  for  wise  plans  renowned, 

Shall  still  on  thee  attend  ; 
And  Lakshman,  ever  faithful  found, 

Be  my  familiar  friend. 
Let  us  his  sons,  O  brother  dear, 

The  path  of  right  pursue. 
And  keep  the  king  we  all  revere 
Still  to  his  promise  true.' 


CANTO  CVIII. 


JAVALI'S  SPEECH. 


Thus  Kama  soothed  his  brother's  grief  : 
Then  virtuous  Javali,  chief 
Of  twice-born  sages,  thus  replied 
In  words  that  virtue's  law  defied  : 
'Hail,  Baghu's  princely  son,  dismiss 
A  thought  so  weak  and  vain  as  this. 
Canst  thpu,  with  lofty  heart  endowed, 
Think  with  the  dull  ignoble  crowd  ? 
For  what  are  ties  of  kindred  ?  can 
One  profit  by  a  brother  man  ? 
Alone  the  babe  first  opes  his  eyes, 
And  all  alone  at  last  he  dies. 
The  mar,  1  ween,  has  little  sense 
Who  looks  with  foolish  reverence 
On  father's  or  on  mother's  name  ; 
In  others,  none  a  right  may  claim. 
E'en  as  a  man  may  leave  his  home 
And  to  a  distant  village  roam, 
Then  from  his  lodging  turn  away 
And  journey  on  the  following  day, 


Such  brief  possession  mortals  hold 
In  sire  and  mother,  house  and  gold, 
And  never  will  the  good  and  wise 
'1  he  brief  uncertain  lodging  prize. 
Nor,  best  of  men.  shouldst  thou  disown 
Thy  sire's  hereditary  throne, 
And  tread  the  rough  and  stony  ground 
Where  hardship,  danger,  woes  abound. 
Come,  let  Ayodhya  rich  and  bright 
See  thee  enthroned  with  every  rite  : 
Her  tresses  bound  in  single  braid  * 
She  waits  thy  coming  long  delayed. 
O  come,  thou  royal  Prince,  and  share 
The  kingly  joys  that  wait  thee  there, 
And  live  in  bliss  transcending  price 
As  Indra  lives  in  Paradise. 
The  parted  king  is  naught  to  thee, 
Nor  right  in  living  man  has  he  : 
The  king  is  one,  thou,  Prince  of  men, 
Another  art :  be  counselled  then. 
Thy  royal  sire,  O  chief,  has  sped 
On  the  long  path  we  all  must  tread. 
The  common  lot  of  all  is  this, 
And  thou  in  vain  art  robbed  of  bliss, 
For  those— and  only  those— I  weep 
Who  to  the  path  of  duty  keep  ; 
For  here  they  suffer  ceaseless  woe, 
And  dying  to  destruction  go. 
With  pious  care,  each  solemn  day, 
Will  men  their  funeral  offerings  pay : 
See,  how  the  useful  food  they  waste  : 
He  who  is  dead  no  more  can  taste. 
If  one  is  fed,  his  strength  renewed 
Whene'er  his  brother  takes  his  food, 
Then  offerings  to  the  parted  pay  : 
Scarce  will  they  serve  him  on  his  way. 
By  crafty  knaves  these  rules  were  framed, 
And  to  enforce  men's  gifts  proclaimed  : 
'Give,  worship,  lead  a  life  austere, 
Keep  lustral  rites,  quit  pleasures  here,' 
There  is  no  future  life  :  be  wise, 
And  do,  O  Prince,  as  I  advise. 
Enjoy,  my  lord,  the  present  bliss, 
And  things  unseen  from  thought  dismiss. 
Let  this  advice  thy  bosom  move, 
The  counsel  sage  which  all  approve ; 
To  Bharat's  earnest  prayer  incline, 
And  take  the  rule  so  justly  thine.' 

CANTO  CIX. 


THE  PRAISES  OF  TRUTH. 

By  sage  Javali  thus  addressed, 
Rama  of  truthful  hearts  the  best, 


1  It  was  the  custom  of  Indian  women 
when  mourning  for  their  absent  husbands 
to  bind  their  hair  in  a  long  single  braird. 

Carey  and   Marshmau  translate,   'the 

le-tailed  city,' 


one 


218 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool  II. 


With  perfect  skill  and  wisdom  high 

Thus  to  his  speech  made  fit  reply: 

4  Thy  words  that  tempt  to  bliss  are  fair, 

But  virtue's  garb  they  falsely  wear. 

For  he  from  duty's  path  who  strays 

To  wander  in  forbidden  ways, 

Allured  by  doctrine  false  and  vain, 

Praise  from  the  good  can  never  gain. 

Their  lives  the  true  and  boaster  show, 

Pure  and  impure,  and  high  and  low. 

Else  were  no  mark  to  judge  between 

Stainless  and  stained  and  high  and  mean  ; 

They  to  whose  lot  fair  signs  may  fall 

Were  but  as  they  who  lack  them  all, 

And  those  to  virtuous  thoughts  inclined 

Were  but  as  men  of  evil  mind. 

If  in  the  sacred  name  of  right 

I  do  this  wrong  in  duty's  spite  ; 

The  path  of  virtue  meanly  quit, 

And  this  polluting  sin  commit, 

What  man  who  marks  the  bounds  between 

Virtue  and. vice  with  insight  keen, 

Would  rank  me  high  in  after  time. 

Stained  with  this  sou  I -destroying  crime? 

Whither  could  I,  the  sinner,  turn, 

How  hope  a  seat  in  heaven  to  earn, 

If  I  my  plighted  promise  break, 

And  thus  the  righteous  path  forsake  ? 

This  world  of  ours  is  ever  led 

To  walk  the  ways  which  others  tread, 

And  as  their  princes  they  behold, 

The  subjects  too  their  lives  will  mould. 

That  truth  and  mercy  still  must  be 

Beloved  of  kings,  is  Heaven's  decree. 

Upheld  by  truth  the  monarch  reigns, 

And  truth  the  very  world  sustains. 

Truth  evermore  has  been  the  love 

Of  holy  saints  and  Gods  above, 

And  he  whose  lips  are  truthful  here 

Wins  after  death  the  highest  sphere. 

As  from  a  serpent's  deadly  tooth. 

We  shrink  from  him  who  scorns  the  truth. 

For  holy  truth  is  root  and  spring 

Of  justice  and  each  holy  thing, 

A  might  that  every  power  transcends, 

Linked  to  high  bliss  that  never  ends. 

Truth  is  all  virtue's  surest  base, 

Supreme  in  worth  and  first  in  place. 

Oblations,  gifts  men  offer  here, 

Vows,  sacrifice,  and  rites  austere, 

And  Holy  Writ,  on  truth  depend  : 

So  men  must  still  that  truth  defend. 

Truth,  only  truth  protects  the  land, 

By  truth  unharmed  our  houses  stand  ; 

.Neglect  of  truth  makes  men  distressed, 

And  truth  in  highest  heaven  is  blessed. 

Then  how  can  I,  rebellious,  break 

Commandments  which  ray  father  spake — 

I  ever  true  and  faithful  found, 

And  by  my  word  of  honour  bound  ? 

My  father  s  bridge  of  truth  shall  stand 


Unharmed  by  my  destructive  hand  : 
tfot  folly,  ignorance,  or  greed 
My  darkened  soul  shall  thus  mislead. 
Have  we  not  heard  that  God  and  shade 
Turn  from  the  hated  offerings  paid 
By  him  whose  false  and  fickle  mind 
No  pledge  can  hold,  no  promise  bind? 
Truth  is  all  duty  :  as  the  soul, 
It  quickens  and  supports  the  whole. 
The  good  respect  this  duty  :  hence 
Its  sacred  claims  I  reverence. 
The  Warrior's  duty  I  despise 
That  seeks  the  wrong  in  virtue's  guise  : 
Those  claims  I  shrink  from,  which  the  base, 
Cruel,  and  covetous  embrace. 
The  heart  conceives  the  guilty  thought, 
Then  by  the  hand  the  sin  is  wrought, 
And  with  the  pair  is  leagued  a  third, 
The  tongue  that  speaks  the  lying  word. 
Fortune  and  land  and  name  arid  fame 
To  man's  best  care  have  right  and  claim; 
The  good  will  aye  to  truth  adhere, 
And  its  high  laws  must  men  revere. 
Base  were  the  deed  thy  lips  would  teach, 
Approved  as  best  by  subtle  speech. 
Shall  1  my  plighted  promise  break, 
That  I  these  woods  my  home  would  make? 
Shall  I,  as  Bharat's  words  advise, 
My  father's  solemn  charge  despise  ? 
Firm  stands  the  oath  which  then  before 
My  father's  face  1  sooth  ly  swore, 
Which  Queen  Kaikeyi's  anxious  ear 
Rejoiced  with  highest  joy  to  hear. 
Still  in  the  wood  will  I  remain, 
With  food  prescribed  my  life  sustain, 
Arid  please  with  fruit  and  roots  and  flowers 
Ancestral  shades  and  heavenly  powers. 
Here  every  sense  contented,  still 
Heeding  the  bounds  of  good  and  ill, 
My  settled  course  will  I  pursue, 
Firm  in  my  faith  and  ever  true. 
Here  in  this  wild  and  far  retreat 
Will  1  my  noble  task  complete  ; 
And  Fire  and  Wind  and  Moon  shall  be 
Partakers  of  its  fruit  with  me. 
A  hundred  offerings  duly  wrought 
His  rank  o'er  Gods  for  Indra  bought, 
And  mighty  saints  their  heaven  secured 
By  torturing  years  on  earth  endured.' 
That  scoffing  plea  the  hero  spurned, 

And  thus  he  spake  once  more, 
Chiding,  the  while  his  bosom  burned, 

Javali's  impious  lore : 
'  Justice,  and  courage  ne'er  dismayed, 

Pity  for  all  distressed, 
Truth,  loving  honour  duly  paid 

To  Brahman,  God,  and  guest- 
In  these,  the  true  and  virtuous  say, 

Should  lives  of  men  be  passed  : 
They  form  the  right  and  happy  way 
That  leads  to  heaven  at  last, 


to  CX 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


219 


My  father's  thoughtless  act  I  chide 

That  gave  thee  honoured  place, 
Whose  soul,  from  virtue  turned  aside, 

Is  faithless  dark,  and  base. 
We  rank  the  Buddhist  with  the  thief,1 

And  all  the  impious  crew 
Who  share  his  sinful  disbelief, 

And  hate  the  right  and  true. 
Hence  never  should  wise  kings  who  seek 

To  rule  their  people  well, 
Admit,  before  their  face  to  speak, 

The  cursed  infidel. 
But  twice-born  men  in  days  gone  by, 

Of  other  sort  than  thou, 
Have  wrought  good  deeds,  whose  glories 
high 

Are  fresh  among  us  now  : 
This  world  they  conquered,  nor  in  vain 

Thsy  strove  to  win  the  skies: 
The  twice-born  hence  pure  lives  maintain, 

And  fires  of  worship  rise. 
Those  who  in  virtue's  path  delight, 

And  with  the  virtuous  live,— 
Whose  flames  of  holy  zeal  are  bright, 

Whose  hands  are  swift  to  give, 
Who  injure  none,  and  good  and  mild 

In  every  grace  excel, 
Whose  lives  by  sin  are  undefiled, 

We  love  and  honour  well.' 
Thus  R4ma  spoke  in  righteous  rage 

Javali's  speech  to  chide, 
When  thus  again  the  virtuous  sage 

In  truthful  words  replied: 
'  The  atheist's  lore  I  use  no  more, 

Not  mine  his  impious  creed  : 
His  words  and  doctrine  I  abhor, 

Assumed  at  time  of  need. 
E'en  as  I  rose  to  speak  with  thee, 

The  fit  occasion  came 
That  bade  me  use  the  atheist's  plea 

To  turn  thee  from  thine  aim. 
The  atheist  creed  I  disavow, 

Unsay  the  words  of  sin, 
And  use  the  faithful's  language  now 

Thy  favour,  Prince,  to  win. 

CANTO  CX. 


THE  SONS  OF  IKSHVAKU.* 

Then  spake  Vasishtha  who  perceived 
That  Rama's  soul  was  wroth  and  grieved : 


1  The  verses  in  a  different  metre  with 
which  some  cantos  end  are  all  to  be  regard- 
ed with  suspicion.  Schlegel  regrets  that 
he  did  not  exclude  them  all  from  his 
edition.  These  lines  are  manifestly  spuri- 
ous. See  Additional  Notes. 

*  Thii  genealogy  is  a  repetition  with 


'  Well  knows  the  sage  Javali  all 

The  changes  that  the  world  befall ; 

And  but  to  lead  thee  to  revoke 

Thy  purpose  were  the  words  he  spoke. 

Lord  of  the  world,  now  hear  from  me 

How  first  this  world  began  to  be. 

First  water  was,  and  naught  beside  ; 

There  earth  was  formed  that  stretches  wide. 

Then  with  the  Gods  from  out  the  same 

The  Self -existent  Brahma  came. 

Then  Brahma1  in  a  boar's  disguise 

Bade  from  the  deep  this  earth  arise  ; 

Then,  with  his  sons  of  tranquil  soul, 

He  made  the  world  and  framed  the  whol«. 

From  subtlest  ether  Brahma  rose: 

No  end,  no  loss,  no  change  he  knows. 

A  son  had  he,  Marichi  styled. 

And  Kasyap  was  Marichi's  child. 

From  him  Vivasvat  sprang  :  from  him 

Manu,  whose  fame  shall  ne'er  be  dim. 

Manu,  who  life  to  mortals  gave, 

Begot  Ikshvaku  good  and  brave  : 

First  of  Ayodhya's  kings  was  he, 

Pride  of  her  famous  dynasty. 

From  him  the  glorious  Kukshi  sprang, 

Whose  fame  through  all  the  regions  rang. 

Rival  of  Kukshi's  ancient  fame, 

His  heir  the  great  Vikukshi  came. 

His  son  was  Vana,  lord  of  might, 

His  Anaranya,  strong  in  fight. 

No  famine 'marred  his  blissful  reign, 

No  drought  destroyed  the  kindly  grain  ; 

Amid  the  sons  of  virtue  chief, 

His  happy  realm  ne'er  held  a  thief, 

His  son  was  Prithu,  glorious  name, 

From  him  the  wise  Trisanku  came  ; 

Embodied  to  the  skies  he  went 

For  love  of  truh  preeminent, 

He  left  a  son  renowned  afar, 

Known  by  the  name  of  Dhundhumar. 

His  son  succeeding  bore  the  name 

Of  Yuvanasva  dear  to  fame. 

He  passed  away.    Him  followed  then 

His  son  Mandhata,  king  of  men. 

His  son  was  blest  in  high  emprise, 

Susandhi,  fortunate  and  wise. 

Two  noble  sons  had  he,  to  wit 

Dhruvasandhi  and  Prasenajit. 

Bharat  was  Dhruvasandhi's  son : 

His  glorious  arm  the  conquest  won. 

Against  his  son  King  Asit,  rose 

In  fierce  array  his  royal  foes, 

Haihayas,  Talajanghas  styled. 

And  Sasivindhus  fierce  and  wild. 


slight  variation  of  that  given  in  Book  I 
Canto  LXX. 

1  In  Gorresio's  recension  identified  with 
Vishnu.  See  Muirs  Sanskrit  1'exts,  Velt 
IV.  ^29,30, 


220 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Soolt  II. 


Long  time  he  strove,  but  forced  to  yield 

Fled  from  his  kingdom  and  the  neld. 

The  wives  he  left  had  both  conceived— 

So  is  the  ancient  tale  believed  : — 

One,  of  her  rival's  hopes  afraid, 

Fell  poison  in  the  viands  laid. 

It  chanced  that  Chyavan,  Bhrigu's  child, 

Had  wandered  to  the  pathless  wild 

Where  proud  Himalaya's  lovely  height 

Detained  him  with  a  strange  delight. 

Then  came  the  other  widowed  queen. 

With  lotus  eyes  and  beauteous  mien, 

Longing  a  noble  son  to  bear, 

And  wooed  the  saint  with  earnest  prayer. 

When  thus  Kalindi,  fairest  dame 

With  reverent  supplication  came, 

To  her  the  holy  sage  replied : 

'  0  royal  lady,  from  thy  side 

A  glorious  son  shall  spring  ere  long, 

Righteous  and  true  and  brave  and  strong  : 

He,  scourge  of  foes  and  lofty  -soul  ed, 

His  ancient  race  shall  still  uphold.' 

Then  round  the  sage  the  lady  went, 
And  bade  farewell,  most  reverent. 
Back  to  her  home  she  turned  once  more, 
And  there  her  promised  son  she  bore. 
Because  her  rival  mixed  the  bane 
To  render  her  conception  vain, 
And  her  unripened  fruit  destroy, 
Sagar  she  called  her  rescued  boy.i 
He,  when  he  paid  that  solemn  rite," 
Filled  living  creatures  with  affright : 
Obedient  to  his  high  decree 
His  countless  sons  dug  out  the  sea. 
Prince  Asamanj  was  Sagar's  child  : 
But  him  with  cruel  sin  denied 
And  loaded  with  the  people's  hate 
His  father  banished  from  the  state. 
To  Asamanj  his  consort  bare 
Bright  Ansuman  his  valiant  heir. 
Ansuman's  son,  Dilipa  famed, 
Begot  a  son  Bhagirath  named. 
From  him  renowned  Kakutstha  came  : 
Thou  bearest  still  the  lineal  name. 
Kakutstha's  son  was  Raghu  :  thou 
Art  styled  the  son  of  Raghu  now, 
From  him  came  Purushadak  bold, 
Fierce  hero  of  gigantic  mould  : 
Kalmashapada's  name  he  bore, 
Because  his  feet  were  spotted  o'er. 
Sankhan  his  son,  to  manhood  grown, 
Died  sadly  with  his  host  o'erthrown, 
But  ere  he  perished  sprang  from  him 
Sudarsan  fair  in  face  and  limb. 
From  beautiful  Sudarsan  came 
Prince  Agnivarna,  bright  as  flame. 
His  son  was  Sighraga,  for  speed 
Unmatched  ;  and  Maru  was  his  seed. 

1  From  sa  with,  and  qara  poison. 
*  See  Book  I.  Canto  XL. 


Prasusruka  was  Mam's  child  : 
His  son  was  Ambarishu  styled. 
Nahush  was  Ambarisha's  heir 
With  hand  to  strike  und  heart  to  dare. 
His  son  was  good  Nabhag,  from  youth 
Renowned  for  piety  and  truth. 
From  great  Nabhag  sprang  children  two, 
Aja  and  Suvrat  pure  and  true. 
From  Aja  Dasaratha  came, 
Whose  virtuous  life  was  free  from  blame. 
His  eldest  son  art  thou  :  his  throne, 
O  famous  Rama,  is  thine  own. 
Accept  the  sway  so  justly  thine, 
And  view  the  world  with  eyes  benign, 
For  ever  in  Ikshvaku's  race 
The  eldest  takes  his  father's  place, 
And  while  he  lives  no  son  beside 
As  lord  and  king  is  sanctified. 
The  rule  by  Raghu's  children  kept 

Thou  must  not  spurn  to-day. 
This  realm  of  peerless  wealth  accept, 

And  like  thy  father  sway.' 


CANTO  CXI. 


COUNSEL  TO  BHARAT. 

Thus  said  Vasishtha,  and  again 
To  Kama  spake  in  duteous  strain  : 
*  All  men  the  light  of  life  who  see 
With  high  respect  should  look  on  three  : 
High  honour  ne'er  must  be  denied 
To  father,  mother,  holy  guide. 
First  to  their  sires  their  birth  they  owe, 
Nursed  with  maternal  love  they  grow  : 
Their  holy  guides  fair  knowledge  teach  : 
So  men  should  love  and  honour  each. 
Thy  sire  and  thou  have  learned  of  me, 
The  sacred  guide  of  him  and  thee, 
And  if  my  word  thou  wilt  obey 
Thou  still  wilt  keep  the  virtuous  way. 
See,  with  the  chiefs  of  every  guild 
And  all  thy  friends,  this  place  is  tilled  : 
All  these,  as  duty  bids,  protect; 
So  still  the  righteous  path  respect. 
O.  for  thine  aged  mother  feel, 
Nor  spurn  the  virtuous  dame's  appeal : 
Obey,  O  Prince,  thy  mother  dear, 
And  still  to  virtue's  path  adhere. 
Yield  thou  to  Bharat's  fond  request, 
With  earnest  supplication  pressed, 
So  wilt  thou  to  thyself  be  true, 
And  faith  and  duty  still  pursue.' 

Thus  by  his  saintly  guide  addressed 
With  pleas  in  sweetest  tones  expressed, 
The  lord  of  men  in  turn  replied 
To  wise  Vasishtha  by  his  side : 
'  The  fondest  son's  observance  ne'er 
Repays  the  sire  and  mother's  care  : 


Canto  CXIL 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


221 


The  constant  love  that  food  provides, 
And  dress,  and  every  need  besides  : 
Their  pleasant  words  still  soft  and  mild, 
Their  nurture  of  the  helpless  child: 
The  word  which  Daaaratha  spake, 
My  king  and  sire,  I  ne'er  will  break.' 

Then  Bharat  of  the  ample  chest 
The  wise  Sumantra  thus  addressed  ; 
'Bring  sacred  grass,  O  charioteer, 
And  strew  it  on  the  level  here. 
For  I  will  sit  and  watch  his  face 
Until  I  win  my  brother's  grace. 
Like  a  robbed  Brahman  will  I  lie,1 
Nor  taste  of  food  nor  turn  my  eye, 
In  front  of  Rama's  leafy  cot, 
And  till  he  yield  will  leave  him  not.' 

When  Bharat  saw  Sumantra's  eye 
Looked  up  to  Rama  for  reply, 
The  Prince  himself  in  eager  haste 
The  sasred  grass  in  order  placed. 
Him  great  and  mighty  Rama,  best 
Of  royal  saints,  in  turn  addressed  : 
'  What,  Bharat,  have  I  done,  that  thou 
Besiege.st  me,2  a  suppliant  now  ? 
Thus  streched,  to  force  redress  for  wrongs 
To  men  of  Brahman  birth  belongs, 
Not  those  upon  whose  kingly  head 
The  consecrating  drops  are  shed. 
Up,  lord  of  men  !  arise,  and  quit 
This  fearful  vow  for  thee  unfit. 
Go,  brother,  seek  Ayodhya's  town, 
Fair  city  of  supreme  renown.' 

Hut  Bharat,  as  his  seat  he  took. 
Cast  all  around  an  eager  look  : 
'  O  people,  join  your  prayers  with  mine, 
And  so  his  stubborn  heart  incline.' 

And  all  the  people  answered  thus  : 
'Full  well  is  llama  known  to  us. 
Right  is  the  word  he  speaks,  and  he 
Is  faithful  to  his  sire's  decree  ; 
Nor  can  we  rushly  venture  now 
To  turn  him  from  his  purposed  vow.' 

Then  Rama  spoke  :  '  O  Bharat,  heed 
Thy  virtuous  friends,  and  mark  their  rede. 
Mark  well  what  I  and  these  advise, 
And  dutv  view  with  clearer  eyes. 
Thy  hand  on  mine,  O  hero,  place, 
Touch  water,  and  thy  sin  efface.' 

Then  Bharat  rose  :  his  hand  he  dipped, 
And  purifying  water  sipped  : 
'  Each  citizen,'  he  cried,  '  give  ear, 
Attend,  each  counsellor  and  peer. 
My  mother  planned,  by  me  untaught, 
To  win  tne  sway  I  never  sought  : 

1  A  practice  which  has  frequently  been 
described,  under  the  name  of  dherna,  by 
European  travellers  in  India. 

2  Compare  Milton's  'beseeching  or  be- 
sieging' 


Ne'er  Raghu's  son  could  I  despise, 
In  duty's  lore  supremely  wise. 
Now  if  obedience  to  our  sire 
This  dwelling  in  the  woods  require, 
I,  till  the  destined  years  be  spent, 
Will  dwell  alone  in  banishment.' 

The  virtuous  Rama,  wonder-stirred, 
The  faithful  speech  of  Bharat  heard, 
And  thus  the  hero's  feelings  found 
Due  utterance,  as  he  gazed  around  : 

'  Still  to  my  father's  word  I  hold, 
Whate'er  he  bought,  or  pledged,  or  sold  : 
Ne'er  shall  his  living  promise  be 
Annulled  by  Bharat  or  by  me. 
Not  thus  my  task  will  I  evade, 
My  exile  on  another  laid  : 
Most  wise  was  Queen  Kaikeyi's  rede, 
And  just  and  good  my  father's  deed. 
Dear  Bharat's  patient  soul  I  know, 
How  reverence  due  he  loves  to  show  ; 
In  him,  high-souled  and  faithful  found, 
Must  each  auspicious  grace  abound. 
When  from  the  woods  I  turn  again 
I  with  his  aid  shall  nobly  reign, 
With  one  so  good,  of  peerless  worth, 
A  glorious  lord  of  happy  earth. 
Her  boon  Kaikeyi  sought  and  won  : 
I,  as  my  father  swore,  have  done  : 
And  0,  do  thou,  my  brother  dear, 
The  monarch's  name  from  falsehood  clear. 


CANTO  CXII. 


THE  SANDALS, 

High  wonder  mingled  with  delight 
Took  the  great  sages  at  the  sight, 
Thrilling  their  breasts  who  came  to  view 
The  meeting  of  the  peerless  two. 
The  saints  and  sages'  holy  train 
Departed  to  their  home  again, 
And  high  each  holy  voice  was  raised, 
And  thus  the  glorious  brothers  praised. 

'  High  fate  is  his,  the  sire  of  two 
Most  virtuous  sons,  so  brave  and  true  : 
With  wonder  and  with  joy  intense 
Our  ears  have  heard  their  conference. 
Then  the  great  sages,  longing  all 
To  see  the  ten-necked  tyrant1  fail, 
To  Bharat,  bravest  of  the  brave, 
Their  salutary  counsel  gave  : 

'  O  thou  of  lofty  lineage  born, 
Whom  wisdom,  conduct,  fame  adorn, 
Thou  for  thy  honoured  father's  sake 
Shouldst  Rama's  righteous  counsel  take. 

1  Ten-headed,  ten-necked,  ten  faced,  ar  e 
common  epithets  of  Ravan  the  giant  king 
of  Lanka. 


222 


TffS  RAM  A  TAN. 


Book  II. 


All  debts  to  Queen  Kaikeyi  paid, 
Thy  sire  his  home  in  heaven  has  made, 
So  virtuous  Rama  we  would  see 
From  filial  obligation  free.' 
Thus  gave  each  royal  sage  advice, 
High  saint,  and  bard  of  Paradise; 
Then  quickly  vanishing  from  view 
Each  to  his  proper  home  withdrew. 
Then  Kama's  face  his  rapture  showed, 
And  his  full  heart  with  joy  o'erflowed. 
While,  as  the  sages  parted  thence, 
Be  paid  his  humble  reverence, 

Then  Bharat  shook  in  every  limb 
As  suppliant  thus  he  spake  to  him  : 
*  The  duty  of  a  king  respect, 
Held  by  our  race  in  high  respect : 
And  O,  thy  gracious  ear  incline 
To  heed  my  mother's  prayer  and  mine. 
The  mighty  realm  to  rule  and  guard 
For  me  alone  is  task  too  hard. 
No  power  have  I  the  love  to  gain 
Of  noble,  citizen,  and  swain. 
All  those  who  know  thee,  warrior,  friend, 
On  thee  their  eager  glances  bend, 
As  labouring  hinds  who  till  the  plain 
Look  fondly  for  the  Lord  of  Rain. 
O  wisest  Prince,  thy  realm  secure, 
And  make  its  firm  foundations  sure. 
Kakutstha's  son,  thy  mighty  arm 
Can  keep  the  nation  free  from  harm.' 
He  spoke,  and  fell  in  sorrow  drowned 
At  Rama's  feet  upon  the  ground, 
And  there  the  hero  sued  and  sighed, 
And  '  Hear  me,  Raghu's  son,'  he  cried. 

Then  Rama  raised  him  up.  and  pressed 
His  brother  to  his  loving  breast, 
And  sweetly  as  a  wild  swan  cried 
To  Bharat  dark  and  lotus-eyed  : 

So  just  and  true  thy  generous  soul, 
Thy  hand  may  well  this  earth  control: 
But  many  a  sage  his  aid  will  lend. 
"With  counsellor,  and  peer,  and  friend : 
With  these  advise:  their  counsel  ask, 
And  so  perform  thy  arduous  task. 
The  moon  his  beauty  may  forgo, 
The  cold  forsake  the  Hills  of  Snow, 
And  Ocean  o'er  his  banks  may  sweep, 
But  I  my  father's  word  will  keep. 
Now  whether  love  of  thee  or  greed 
Thy  mother  led  to  plan  the  deed, 
Forth  from  thy  breast  the  memory  throw, 
And  filial  love  and  reverence  show.' 
Thus  spake  Kausalya's  son  :  again 
Bharat  replied  in  humble  strain 
To  him  who  matched  the  sun  in  might 
And  lovely  as  the  young  moon's  light : 
*  Put,  noble  brother,  I  entreat, 
These  sandals  on  thy  blessed  feet : 
These,  lord  of  men,  with  gold-bedecked, 
The  realm  and  people  will  protect.' 
Then  K4iuaT  iu  his  brother  prayed 


Beneath  his  feet  the  sandals  laid, 
And  these  with  fond  affection  gave 
To  Bharat's  hand,  the  good  and  brave. 
Then  Hliarat  bowed  his  reverent  head 
And  thus  again  to  Rama  said  : 
Through  fourteen  seasons  will  I  wear 
The  hermit's  clre'ss  and  matted  hair  : 
With  fruit  and  roots  my  life  sustain, 
And  still  beyond  the  realm  remain, 
Longing  for  thee  to  come  again. 
The  rule  and  all  affairs  of  state 
L  to  these  shoes  will  delegate. 
And  if,  O  tamer  of  thy  foes. 
When  fourteen  years  have  reached  their 

close, 

I  see  thee  not  that  day  return, 
The  kindled  fire  my  frame  shall  burn.' 

Then  Rama  to  his  bosom  drew 
Dear  Bharat  and  Satrughna  too : 
'  Be,  never  wroth,'  he  cried,  '  with  her, 
Kaikeyi's  guardian  minister: 
This,  glory  of  Jkshvaku's  line, 
Is  Sita's  earnest  prayer-and  mine.' 
He  spoke,  and  as  the  big  tears  fell, 
To  his  dear  brother  bade  farewell. 
Round  RAma,  Bharat  strong  and  bold 

In  humble  reverence  paced, 
When  the  bright  sandals  wrought  with 

gold 

Above  his  brows  were  placed. 
The  royal  elephant  who  led 

The  glorious  pomp  he  found, 
And  on  the  monster's  mighty  head 

Those  sandals  duly  bound. 
Then  noble  Rama,  born  to  swell 

The  glories  of  his  race, 
To  all  in  order  bade  farewell 

With  love  and  tender  grace— 
To  brothers,  counsellers,  and  peers,— 

Still  firm,  in  duty  proved, 
Firm,  as  the  Lord  of  Snow  uprears 

His  mountains  unremoved. 
No  queen,  for  choking  8obs  and  sighs, 

Could  say  her  last  adieu  : 
Then  Rama  bowed,  with  flooded  eyes, 
And  to  his  cot  withdrew. 


CANTO  CXIII. 
BHARAT'S  RETURN. 

Bearing  the  sandals  on  his  head 
Away  triumphant  Bharat  sped, 
And  clomb,  Satrughna  by  his  side, 
The  car  wherein  he  wont  to  ride. 
Before  the  mighty  army  went 
The  lords  for  counsel  eminent, 
Vasishtha,  Varnadeva  next, 
J&valij  pure  with  prayer  aud  text 


Canto  CXIV. 


THE  RAMA7AN. 


Then  from  that  lovely  river  they 
Turned  eastward  on  their  homeward  way : 
With  reverent  steps  from  left  to  right 
They  circled  Chitrakuta's  height. 
And  viewed  his  peaks  on  every  side 
With  stains  of  thousand  metals  dyed. 
Then  Bharat  saw,  not  far  away. 
Where  Bhardvaja's  dwelling  lay, 
And  when  the  chieftain  bold  and  sage 
Had  reached  that  holy  hermitage, 
Down  from  the  car  he  sprang  to  greet 
The  saint,  and  bowed  before  his  feet. 
High  rapture  filled  the  hermit's  breast, 
Who  thus  the  royal  prince  addressed  : 
1  Say,  Bharat,  is  thy  duty  done  ? 
Hast  thou  with  Rama  met,  my  son  ? ' 

The  chief  whose  soul  to  virtue  clave 
This  answer  to  the  hermit  gave  : 
'  I  prayed  him  with  our  holy  guide  : 
But  Raghu's  son  our  prayer  denied, 
And  long  besought  by  both  of  us 
lie  answered  Saint  Vasishtha  thus  : 
'True  to  my  vow,  I  still  will  be 
Observant  of  my  sire's  decree  : 
Till  fourteen  years  complete  their  course 
That  promise  shall  remain  in  force.' 
The  saint  in  highest  wisdom  taught, 
These  solemn  words  with  wisdom  fraught, 
To  him  in  lore  of  language  learned 
Most  eloquent  himself  returned: 
'  Obey  my  rede :  let  Bharat  hold 
This  pair  of  sandals  decked  with  gold  : 
They  in  Ayodbya  shall  ensure 
Our  welfare,  and  our  bliss  necure.' 
When  Kama  heard  the  royal  priest 
He  rose,  and  looking  to  the  east 
Consigned  the  sandals  to  my  hand 
That  they  for  him  might  guard  the  land. 
Then  from  the  high-souled  chief's  abode 
I  turned  upon  my  homeward  road, 
Dismissed  by  him,  and  now  this  pair 
Of  sandals  to  Ayodhya  bear.' 

To  iiim  the  hermit  thus  replied, 
By  Bharat's  tidings  gratified: 
•  No  marvel  thoughts  so  just  and  true, 
Thou  best  of  all  who  right  pursue, 
Should  dwell  in  thee.  ()  Prince  of  men, 
As  waters  gather  in  the  glen. 
He  is  not  dead  :  we  mourn  in  vain: 
Thy  blessed  father  lives  again, 
Whose  noble  son  we  thus  behold 
Like  Virtue's  self  in  human  mould.' 

He  ceased  :  before  him  Bharat  fell 
To  clasp  his  feet,  and  said  farewell  : 
HLs  reverent  steps  around  him  bent, 
-And  onward  to  Ayodhya  went. 
His  host  of  followers  stretching  far 
With  many  an  elephant  and  car, 
Waggon  and  steed,  and  mighty  train, 
Traversed  their  homeward  way  again, 
O'er  holy  Yamuna  they  sped, 


Fair  stream ,  with  waves  engarlaDded, 
And  then  once  more  the  rivers'  queen, 
The  blessed  Ganga's  self  was  seen. 
Then  making  o'er  that  flood  his  way, 
Where  crocodiles  and  monsters  lay, 
The  king  to  Sringavera  drew 
His  host  and  royal  retinue. 
His  onward  way  he  thence  pursued, 
And  soon  renowned  Ayodhya  viewed. 
Then  burnt  by  woe  and  sad  of  cheer 
Bharat  addressed  the  charioteer  : 
*  Ah,  see,  Ayodhya  dark  and  sad, 
Her  glory  gone,  once  bright  and  glad : 
Of  joy  and  beauty  reft,  forlorn, 
In  silent  grief  she  seems  to  mourn.' 


CANTO  CXIV. 


BHARAT'S  DEPARTURE. 

Deep,  pleasant  was  the  chariot's  sound 
As  royal  Bharat,  far  renowned, 
Whirled  by  his  mettled  coursers  fast 
Within  Ayodhya's  city  passed. 
There  dark  and  drear  was  every  home 
Where  cats  and  owls  had  space  to  roam, 
As  when  the  shades  of  midnight  fall 
Witli  blackest  gloom,  and  cover  all : 
As  Rohini,  dear  spouse  of  him 
Whom  Rahu  hates,1  grows  faint  and  dim, 
When,  as  she  shines  on  high  alone 
The  demon's  shade  is  o'er  her  thrown  ; 
As  burnt  by  summer's  heat  a  rill 
Scarce  trickling  from  her  parent  hill, 
With  dying  fish  in  pools  half  dried, 
And  fainting  birds  upon  her  side: 
As  sacrificial  flames  arise 
When  holy  oil  their  food  supplies, 
But  when  no  more  the  fire  is  fed 
Sink  lustreless  and  cold  and  dead  : 
Like  some  brave  host  that  filled  the  plain, 
With  harness  rent  and  captains  slain, 
When  warrior,  elephant,  and  steed 
Mingled  in  wild  confusion  bleed  : 
As  when,  all  spent  her  store  of  worth, 
Hocks  from  her  base  the  loosened  earth  : 
Like  a  sad  fallen  star  no  more 
Wearing  the  lovely  light  it  wore  : 
So  mournful  in  her  lost  estate 
Was  that  sad  town  disconsolate, 
Then  car-borne  Bharat,  good  and  brave, 
Thus  spake  to  him  the  steeds  who  drave  : 
4  Why  are  Ayodhya's  streets  so  rnute  ? 
Where  is  the  voice  of  lyre  and  lute  ? 
Why  sounds  not,  as  of  old,  to-day 
The  music  of  the  minstrel's  lay  ? 

1  The  spouse  of  Rohini  is  the    Moon: 
Rahu  is  the  demon  who  causes  eclipse*, 


224 


THE  RAM  AT  AN. 


Boole  II. 


Where  are  the  wreaths  they  used  to  twine? 
Where  are  the  blossoms  and  the  wine  ? 
Where  is  the  cool  refreshing  scent 
Of  sandal  dust  with  aloe  blent  ? 
The  elephant's  impatient  roar, 
The  din  of  ca.rs,  I  hear  no  more  : 
No  more  the  horse's  pleasant  neigh 
Kings  out  to  meet  me  on  my  way. 
Ayodhya's  youths,  since  Rama's  flight, 
Have  lost  their  relish  for  delight : 
Her  men  roam  forth  no  more,  nor  care 
Bright  garlands  round  their  necks  to  wear. 
All  grieve  for  banished  Rama  :  feast, 
And  revelry  and  song  have  ceased  : 
Like  a  black  night  when  floods  pour  down, 
So  dark  and  gloomy  is  the  town. 
When  will  he  come  to  make  them  gay 
Like  some  auspicious  holiday  ? 
When  will  my  brother,  like  a  cloud 
At  summer's  close,  make  glad  the  crowd?' 

Then  through  the  streets  the  hero  rode, 
And  passed  within  his  sire's  abode, 
Like  some  deserted  lion's  den, 
Forsaken  by  the  lord  of  men. 
Then  to  the  inner  bowers  he  came, 
Once  happy  home  of  many  a  dame, 

Now  gloomy,  sad,  and  drear, 
Dark  as  of  old  that  sunless  day 
When  wept  the  Gods  in  wild  dismay  ;  1 

There  poured  he  many  a  tear. 


CANTO  CXV. 


Then  when  the  pious  chief  had  seen 
Lodged  in  her  home  each  widowed  queen, 
Still  with  his  burning  grief  oppressed 
His  holy  guides  he  thus  addressed  : 
'  I  go  to  Nundigram  :  adieu, 
This  day,  my  lords  to  all  of  you  : 
I  go,  my  load  of  grief  to  bear, 
Reft  of  the  son  of  Raghu,  there. 
The  king  my  sire,  alas,  is  dead, 
And  Rama  to  the  forest  fled  ; 
There  will  I  wait  till  he,  restored, 
Shall  rule  the  realm,  its  rightful  lord.' 
They    heard    the    high-souled    prince's 

speech, 

And  thus  with  ready  answer  each 
>f  those  great  lords  their  cheif  addressed, 

4<  l  'Once,'  says  the  Commentator  Tirtha» 
{°  *£e  battle  between  the  Gods  and  demons 
the  Gods  were  vanquished,  and  the  sun 
was  overthrown  by  Kahu.  At  the  request 
>f  the  Gods  Atri  undertook  the  manage- 
ment of  the  sun  for  a  week.' 


*  Now  Nundgaon,  in  Oudh, 


With  saint  Vasishtha  and  the  rest : 

4  Good  are  the  words  which  thou  hast  said, 

By  brotherly  affection  led, 

Like  thitie  own  self,  a  faithful  friend, 

True  to  thy  brother  to  the  end: 

A  heart  like  thine  must  all  approve, 

Which  naught  from  virtue's  path  can  move.' 

Soon  as  the  words  he  loved  to  hear 
Fell  upon  Bharat's  joyful  ear, 
Thus  to  the  charioteer  he  spoke  : 
'  My  car  with  speed,  Sumantra.  yoke.' 
Then  Bharat  with  delighted  mien 
Obeisance  paid  to  every  queen, 
And  with  Satrughna  by  his  side 
Mounting  the  car  away  he  hied. 
With  lords,  and  priests  in  long  array 
The  brothers  hastened  on  their  way. 
And  the  great  pomp  the  Brahmans  led 
With  Saint  Vasishpha  at  their  head. 
Then  every  face  was  eastward  beiit 
As  on  to  Nundigrani  they  went. 
Behind  the  army  followed,  all 
Unsummoned  by  their  leader's  call, 
And  steeds  and  elephants  and  men 
Streamed  forth  with  every  citizen. 
As  Bharat  in  his  chariot  rode 
His  heart  with  love  fraternal  glowed, 
And  with  the  sandals  on  his  head 
To  Nundigram  he  quickly  sped. 
Within  the  town  he  swiftly  pressed, 
Alighted,  and  his  guides  addressed : 
'  To  me  in  trust  my  brother's  hand 
Consigned  the  lordship  of  the  land, 
When  he  these  gold-wrought  sandals  gave 
As  emblems  to  protect  and  save.' 
Then  Bharat  bowed,  and  from  his  head 
The  sacred  pledge  deposited, 
And  thus  to  all  the  people  cried 
Who  ringed  him  round  on  every  side  ; 
1  Haste,  for  these  sandals  quickly  bring 
The  canopy  that  shades  the  king. 
Pay  ye  to  them  all  reverence  meet 
As  to  my  elder  brother's  feet, 
For  they  will  right  and  law  maintain 
Until  King  Rama  come  again. 
My  brother  with  a  loving  mind 
These  sandals  to  my  charge  consigned  : 
I  till  he  come  will  guard  with  care 
The  sacred  trust  for  liaghu's  heir. 
My  watchful  task  will  soon  be  done, 
The  pledge  restored  to  Raghu's  son  ; 
Then  shall  I  see,  his  wanderings  o'er, 
These  sandals  on  his  feet  once  more. 
My  brother  I  shall  meet  at  last, 
The  burthen  from  my  shoulders  cast; 
To  Rama's  hand  the  realm  restore 
And  serve  my  elder  as  before. 
When  Rama  takes  again  this  pair 
Of  sandals  kept  with  pious  care. 
And  here  his  glorious  reign  begins, 
I  shall  be  cleansed  from  all  my  sins, 


Canto  CXVL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


225 


When  the  glad  people's  voices  ring 
With  welcome  to  the  new-made  king, 
Joy  will  be  mine  four- fold  as  great 
As  if  supreme  1  ruled  the  state.' 

Thus  humbly  spoke  in  sad  lament 
The  chief  in  fame  preeminent: 
Thus,  by  his  reverent  lords  obeyed, 
At  Nandigram  the  kingdom  swayed. 
With  hermit's  dress  and  matted  hair 
He  dwelt  with  all  his  army  there. 
The  sandals  of  his  brother's  feet 
Installed  upon  the  royal  seat, 
He,  all  his  powers  to  them  referred, 
Affairs  of  state  administered, 

In  every  care,  in  every  task, 
Wheri  golden  store  was  brought, 

He  first,  as  though  their  rede  to  ask, 
Those  royal  sandals  sought. 


CANTO  CXVI. 


THE  HERMIT'S  SPEECH. 

When  Bharat  took  his  homeward  road 
Still  Rama  in  the  wood  abode  : 
But  soon  he  marked  the  fear  and  care 
That  darkened  all  the  hermits  there. 
For  all  who  dwelt  before  the  hill 
Were  sad  with  dread  of  coming  ill : 
Each  holy  brow  was  lined  by  thought, 
And  Rama's  side  they  often  sought. 
With  gathering  frowns  the  prince  they  eyed, 
And  then  withdrew  and  talked  aside. 

Then  Raghu's  son  with  anxions  breast 
The  leader  of  the  saints  addressed: 
'  Can  aught  that  I  have  done  displease, 
O  reverend  Sage,  the  devotees  ? 
Why  are  their  loving  looks,  O  say, 
Thus  sadly  changed  or  turned  away  ? 
Has  Lakshman  through  his  want  of  heed 
Offended  with  'unseemly  deed  ? 
Or  is  the  gentle  Sita,  she 
Who  loved  to  honour  you  and  me— 
Is  she  the  cause  of  this  offence, 
Failing  in  lowly  reverence  ? ' 

One  sage,  o'er  whom,  exceeding  old, 
Had  many  a  year  of  penance  rolled, 
Trembling  in  every  aged  limb 
Thus  for  the  rest  replied  to  him  : 
*  How  could  we,  O  beloved,  blame 
Thy  lof  ty-souled  Videhan  dame, 
Who  in  the  good  of  all  delights, 
And  more  than  all  of  anchorites  ? 
But  yet  through  thee  a  numbing  dread 
Of  fiends  among  our  band  has  spread  ; 
Obstructed  by  the  demons'  art 
The  trembling  hermits  talk  apart. 
For  Ravan's  brother,  overbold, 
Named  Khara,  of  gigantic  mould, 
Vexes  with  fury  fierce  and  fell 


All  those  in  Janasthan1  who  dwell. 

Resistless  in  his  cruel  deeds, 

On  flesh  of  men  the  monster  feeds  : 

Sinful  and  arrogant  is  he, 

And  looks  with  special  hate  on  thee. 

Since  thou,  beloved  son,  hast  made 

Thy  home  within  this  holy  shade, 

The  fiends  have  vexed  with  wilder  rage 

The  dwellers  of  the  hermitage. 

In  many  a  wild  and  dreadful  form 

Around  the  trembling  saints  they  swarm, 

With  hideous  shape  and  foul  disguise 

Their  terrify  our  holy  eyes. 

They  make  our  loathing  souls  endure 

Insult  and  scorn  and  sights  impure, 

And  Hocking  round  the  altars  stay 

The  holy  rites  we  love  to  pay. 

In  every  spot  throughout  the  grove 

With  evil  thoughts  the  monsters  rove, 

Assailing  with  their  secret  might 

Each  unsuspecting"  anchorite. 

Ladle  and  dish  away  they  fling, 

Our  fires  with  floods  extinguishing, 

And  when  the  sacred  flame  should  burn 

They  trample  on  each  water-urn. 

Now  when  they  see  their  sacred  wood 

Plagued  by  this  impious  brotherhood, 

The  troubled  saints  away  would  roam 

And  seek  in  other  shades  a  home  : 

Hence  will  we  fly,  0  Kama,  ere 

The  cruel  fiends  our  bodies  tear. 

Not  far  away  a  forest  lies 

Rich  in  the  roots  and  fruit  we  prize, 

To  this  will  I  and  all  repair 

And  join  the  holy  hermits  there  : 

Be  wise,  and  with  us  thither  flee 

Before  this  Khara  injure  thee. 

Mighty  art  thou,  0  Rama,  yet 

Each  day  with  peril  is  beset. 

If  with  thy  consort  by  thy  side 

Thou  in  this  wood  wilt  still  abide.' 

He  ceased  :  the  words  the  hero  spake 
The  hermit's  purpose  failed  to  break: 
To  Raghu's  son  farewell  he  said, 
And  blessed  the  chief  and  comforted  ; 
.Then  with  the  rest  the  holy  sage 
Departed  from  the  hermitage. 

So  from  the  wood  the  saints  withdrew, 
And  Rama  bidding  all  adieu 

In  lowly  reverence  bent: 
Instructed  by  their  friendly  speech, 
Blest  with  the  gracious  love  of  each, 

To  his  pure  home  he  went. 
Nor  would  the  son  of  Raghu  stray 
A  moment  from  that  grove  away 

From  which  the  saints  had  fled. 
And  many  a  hermit  thither  came 
Attracted  by  his  saintly  fame 

And  the  pure  life  he  led. 

1  A  part  of  the  great  Dandak  forest, 


226 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  IL 


CANTO  CXVII. 

ANASU'YA', 

But  dwelling  in  that  lonely  spot 

Left  by  the  hermits  pleased  him  not. 

'  I  met  the  faithful  Bharat  here, 

The  townsmen,  and  my  mother  dear  : 

The  painful  memory  lingers  yet, 

And  stings  me  with  a  vain  regret. 

And  here  the  host  of  Bharat  camped, 

And  many  a  courser  here  has  stamped, 

And  elephants  with  ponderous  feet 

Have  trampled  through  the  calm  retreat.1 

So  forth  to  seek  a  home  he  hied, 

His  spouse  and  Lakshman  by  his  side, 

He  came  to  Atri's  pure  retreat, 

Paid  reverence  to  his  holy  feet, 

And  from  the  saint  such  welcome  won 

As  a  fond  father  gives  his  son. 

The  noble  prince  with  joy  unfeigned 

As  a  dear  guest  he  entertained, 

And  cheered  the  glorious  Lakshman  too 

And  Sita  with  observance  due. 

Then  Anasuya  at  the  call 

Of  him  who  sought  the  good  of  all, 

His  blameless  venerable  spouse, 

Delighting  in  her  holy  vows, 

Canie  from  her  chamber  to  his  side  : 

To  her  the  virtuous  hermit  cried  : 

*  Receive,  1  pray,  with  friendly  grace 

This  dame  of  Maithil  monarchs'  race  ; 

To  Rama  next  made  known  his  wife, 

The  devotee  of  saintliest  life  : 

'  Ten  thousand  years  this  votaress  bent 

On  sternest  rites  of  penance  spent ; 

She  when  the  clouds  withheld  their  rain, 

And  drought  ten  years  consumed  the  plain, 

Caused  grateful  roots  and  fruit  to  grow 

And  ordered  Gauga  here  to  flow  : 

So  from  their  cares  the  saints  she  freed, 

Nor  let  these  checks  their  rites  impede. 

She  wrought  in  Heaven's  behalf,  and  made 

Ten  nights  of  one,  the  Gods  to  aid:1 

Let  holy  Anasuya  be 

An  honoured  mother,  Prince,  to  thee. 

Let  thy  Videhan  spjuae  draw  near 

To  her  whom  all  that  live  revere, 

Stricken  in  years,  whose  loving  mind 

Is  slow  to  wrath  and  ever  kind.' 

He  ceased  :  and  Rama  gave  asieut, 
And  said,  with  eyes  on  Sita  bent : 
'  O  Princess,  thou  hast  heard  with  me 
This  counsel  of  the  devotee  : 
Now  that  her  touch  thy  soul  may  bless, 
Approach  the  saintly  votaress  : 


1  When  the  saint  Mandavya  had  doomed 
some  saint's  wife,  who  was  Anasuya's 
friend,  to  become  a  widow  on  the  morrow. 


Dome  to  the  venerable  dam'e, 
Far  known  by  Anasuya's  name : 
J'he  mighty  things  that  she  has  done 
High  glory  in  the  world  have  won.' 

Thus  spoke  the  son  of  Raghu  :  she 
Approached  the  saintly  devotee, 
Who  with  her  white  locks,  old  and  frail, 
Shook  like  a  plantain  in  the  gale. 
To  that  true  spouse  she  bowed  her  head, 
Arid  *  Lady,  I  am  Sita,'  said : 
Raised  suppliant  hands  and  prayed  her  tell 
That  all  was  prosperous  and  well. 

The  aged  matron,  when  she  saw 
Fair  Sita  true  to  duty's  law, 
Addressed  her  thus  :  '  High  fate  is  thine 
Whose  thoughts  to  virtue  still  incline. 
Thou,  lady  of  the  noble  mind, 
Hast  kin  and  state  and  wealth  resigned 
To  follow  Rama  forced  to  tread 
Where  solitary  woods  are  spread. 
Those  women  gain  high  spheres  above 
Who  still  unchanged  their  husbands  love, 
Whether  they  dwell  in  town  or  wood, 
Whether  their  hearts  be  ill  or  good. 
Though  wicked,  poor,  or  led  away 
In  love's  forbidden  paths  to  stray, 
The  noble  matron  still  will  deem. 
Her  lord  a  deity  supreme. 
Regarding  kin  and  friendship,  I 
Can  see  no  better,  holier  tie, 
And  every  penance-rite  is  dim 
Beside  the  joy  of  serving  him. 
But  dark  is  this  to  her  whose  mind 
Promptings  of  idle  fancy  blind, 
Who  led  by  evil  thoughts  away 
Makes  him  who  should  command  obey. 
Such  women,  O  dear  Maithil  dame, 
Their  virtue  lose  and  honest  fame, 
Enslaved  by  sin  and  folly,  led    . 
In  these  unholy  paths  to  tread. 
But  they  who  good  and  true  like  thee 
The  present  and  the  future  see, 
Like  men  by  holy  deeds  will  rise 
To  mansions  in  the  blissful  skies. 

ISo  keep  thee  pure  from  taint  of  sin, 
Still  to  thy  lord  be  true, 

And  fame  and  merit  shalt  thou  win, 
To  thy  devotion  due,' 

CANTO  CXVIII. 


ANASUTA'S  GIFTS. 

Thus  by  the  holy  dame  addressed 
Who  banished  envy  from  her  breast, 
Her  lowly  reverence  kita  paid, 
And  softly  thus  her  answer  made  : 
'  No  marvel,  best  of  dames,  thy  speech 

The  duties  of  a  wife  should  teach  i 


Canto  CXVITL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


227 


Yet  I,  O  lady,  also  know 
Due  reverence  to  my  lord  to  show, 
Were  he  the  meanest  of  the  base, 
Unhonoured  with  a  single  grace, 
My  husband  still  I  ne'er  would  leave, 
But  firm  through  all  to  him  would  cleave  : 
Still  rather  to  a  lord  like  mine 
Whose  virtues  high-exalted  shine, 
Compassionate,  of  lofty  soul, 
With  every  sense  in  due  control, 
True  in  his  love,  of  righteous  mind, 
Like  a  dear  sire  and  mother  kind. 
E'en  as  he  ever  loves  to  treat 
Kausalya  with  observance  meet, 
Has  his  behaviour  ever  been 
To  every  other  honoured  queen. 
Nay,  more,  a  sonlike  reverence  shows 
The  noble  Kama  e'en  to  those 
On  whom  the  king  his  father  set 
His  eyes  one  moment,  to  forget. 
Deep  in  my  heart  the  words  are  stored, 
Said  by  the  mother  of  my  lord, 
When  from  my  home  I  turned  away 
In  the  lone  fearful  woods  to  stray. 
The  counsel  of  my  mother  deep 
Impressed  upon  my  soul  I  keep, 
When  by  the  fire  1  took  my  stand, 
And  Rama  clasped  in  his  my  hand. 
And  in  my  bosom  cherished  yet, 
My  friends'  advice  I  ne'er  forget : 
Woman  her  holiest  offering  pays 
When  she  her  husband's  will  obeys. 
Good  Savitri  her  lord  obeyed, 
And  a  high  saint  in  heaven  was  made, 
And  for  the  self-same  virtue  thou 
Hast  heaven  in  thy  possession  now. 
And  she  with  whom  no  dame  could  vie, 
Now  a  bright  Goddess  in  the  sky, 
Sweet  Rohini  the  Moon's  dear  Queen, 
Without  her  lord  is  never  seen  : 
And  many  a  faithful  wife  beside 
For  her  pure  love  is  glorified.' 

Thus  Sita  spake:  soft  rapture  stole 
Through  Anasuya's  saintly  soul: 
Kisses  on  Sita's  head  she  pressed, 
And  thus  the  Maithil  dame  addressed  : 
'  I  by  long  rites  and  toils  endured 
Rich  store  of  merit  have  secured  : 
From  this  my  wealth  will  I  bestow 
A  blessing  ere  I  let  thee  go. 
So  right  and  wise  and  true  each  word 
That  from  thy  lips  mine  ears  have  heard, 
I  love  thee  :  be  my  pleasing  task 
To  grant  the  boon  that  thou  shalt  ask.' 
Then  Sita  marvelled  much,  and  while 
Played  o'er  her  lips  a  gentle  smile, 
*  All  has  been  done,  O  Saint,'  she  cried, 
And  naught  remains  to  wish  beside. 
She  spake  :  the  lady's  meek  reply 
Swelled  Anasuya's  rapture  high  : 
*Sit&,'  she  said,  '  my  gift  to-day 


Thy  sweet  contentment  shall  repay. 
Accept  this  precious  robe  to  wear, 
Of  heavenly  fabric,  rich  and  rare, 
These  gems  thy  limbs  to  ornament, 
This  precious  balsam  sweet  of  scent. 

0  Maithil  dame,  this  gift  of  mine 
Shall  make  thy  limbs  with  beauty  shine, 
And  breathing  o'er  thy  frame  dispense 
Its  pure  and  lasting  influence. 

This  balsam  on  thy  fair  limbs  spread 
Mew  radiance  on  thy  lord  shall  shed, 
As  Lakshmi's  beauty  lends  a  grace 
To  Vishnu's  own  celestial  face.' 

Then  Sita  took  the  gift  the  dame 
Bestowed  on  her  in  friendship's  name, 
The  balsam,  gems,  and  robe  divine, 
And  garlands  wreathed  of  bloomy  twine  ; 
Then  sat  her  down,  with  reverence  meet, 
At  saintly  Anasuya's  feet. 
The  matron  rich  in  rites  and  vows 
Turned  her  to  Rama's  Maithil  spouse, 
And  questioned  thus  in  turn  to  hear 
A  pleasant  tale  to  charm  her  ear  : 
*  Sita,  'tis  said  that  Raghu's  soa 
Thy  hand,  mid  gathered  suitors,  won. 

1  fain  would  hear  thee,  lady,  tell 
The  story  as  it  all  befell : 

Do  thou  repeat  each  thing  that  passed, 
Reviewing  all  from  first  to  last.' 

Thus  spake  the  dame  to  Sita  :  she 
Replying  to  the  devotee, 
'  Then,  lady,  thy  attention  lend,' 
Rehearsed  the  story  to  the  end : 
'  King  Janak,  just  and  brave  and  strong, 
Who  loves  the  right  and  hates  the  wrong. 
Well  skilled  in  what  the  law  ordains 
For  Warriors,  o'er  Videha  reigns. 
Guiding  one  morn  the  plough,  his  hand 
Marked  out  for  rites  the  PRO  red  land, 
When,  as  the  ploughshare  cleft  the  earth, 
Child  of  the  king  I  leapt  to  birth. 
Then  as  the  ground  he  smoothedandcleared, 
He  saw  me  all  with  dust  besmeared, 
And  on  the  new-found  babe,  amazed 
The  ruler  of  Videha  gazed. 
In  childless  love  the  monarch  pressed 
The  welcome  infant  to  his  breast : 
'  My  daughter,'  thus  he  cried,  'is  she  :' 
And  as  his  child  he  cared  for  me. 
Forth  from  the  sky  was  heard  o'erhead 
As  'twere  a  human  voice  that  said  : 
'Yea,  even  so  :  great  King,  this  child 
Henceforth  thine  own  be  justly  styled,' 
Videha's  monarch,  virtuous-souled, 
Rejoiced  o'er  me  with  joy  untold, 
Delighting  in  his  new -won  prize, 
The  darling  of  his  heart  and  eyes. 
To  his  chief  queen  of  saintly  mind 
The  precious  treasure  he  consigned, 
And  by  her  side  she  saw  me  grow, 
Nursed  with  the  love  which  mothers  know.' 


228 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


Boole  II. 


Then  as  he  saw  the  seasons  fly, 
And  knew  my  marriage-time  was  nigh, 
My  sire  was  vexed  with  care,  as  sad 
As  one  who  mourns  the  wealth  he  had  : 
'  Scorn  on  the  maiden's  sire  must  wait 
From  men  of  high  and  low  estate  : 
The  virgin's  father  all  despise, 
Though  Indra's  peer,  who  rules  the  skies.' 
More  near  he  saw,  and  still  more  near, 
The  scorn  that  filled  his  soul  with  fear, 
On  trouble's  billowy  ocean  tossed, 
Like  one  whose  shattered  bark  is  lost. 
My  father  knowing  how  I  came, 
No  daughter  of  a  mortal  dame. 
In  all  the  regions  failed  to  see 
A  bridegroom  meet  to  match  with  me. 
Each  way  with  anxious  thought  he  scanned, 
And  thus  at  length  the  monarch  planned  : 
*  The  Bride's  Election  will  I  hold, 
With  every  rite  prescribed  of  old.' 
It  pleased  King  Varun  to  bestow 
Qurver  and  shafts  and*  heavenly  bow 
Upon  my  father's  sire  who  reigned, 
"When  Daksha  his  great  rite  ordained. 
Where  was  the  man  might  bend  or  lift 
With  utmost  toil  that  wondrous  gift  ? 
Not  e'en  in  dreams  could  mortal  king 
Strain  the  great  bow  or  draw  the  string. 
Of  this  tremendous  bow  possessed, 
My  truthful  father  thus  addressed 
The  lords  of  many  a  region,  all 
Assembled  at  the  monarch's  call  : 
4  Whoe'er  this  bow  can  manage,  he 
The  husband  of  my  child  shall  be.' 
The  suitors  viewed  with  hopeless  eyes 
That  wondrous  bow  of  mountain  size, 
Then  to  my  sire  they  bade  adieu, 
And  all  with  humbled  hearts  withdrew. 
At  length  with  Visvamitra  came 
This  son  of  Raghu.  dear  to  fame, 
The  royal  sacrifice  to  view 
Near  to  my  father's  home  he  drew, 
His  brother  Lakshman  by  his  side, 
Kama,  in  deeds  heroic  tried. 
My  sire  with  honour  entertained 
The  saint  in  lore  of  duty  trained, 
Who  thus  in  turn  addressed  the  king  : 
'  Kama  and  Lakshman  here  who  spring 
From  royal  Dasaratha,  long 
To  see  thy  bow  so  passing  strong.' 
Before  the  prince's  eyes  was  laid 
That  marvel,  as  the  Brahman  prayed. 
One  moment  on  the  bow  he  gazed, 
Quick  to  the  notch  the  string  he  raised, 
Then,  in  the  wandering  people's  view, 
The  cord  with  mighty  force  he  drew. 
Then  with  an  awful  crash  as  loud 
As  thunderbolts  that  cleave  the  cloud, 
The  bow  beneath  the  matchless  strain 
Of  arms  heroic  snapped  in  twain, 
Thus,  giving  purest  water,  he, 


My  sire,  to  Rama  offered  me . 
The  prince  the  offered  gift  declined 
Till  he  should  learn  his  father's  mind; 
So  horsemen  swift  Ayodhya  sought 
And  back  her  aged  monarch  brought. 
Me  then  my  sire  to  Kama  gave, 
Self -ruled,  the  bravest  of  the  brave. 
And  Urmila,  the  next  to  me, 
Graced  with  all  gifts,  mo^t  fair  to  see, 
My  sire  with  Raghu's  house  allied. 
And  gave  her  to  be  Lakshman's  bride. 
Thus  from  the  princes  of  the  land 
Lord  Rama  won  my  maiden  hand, 
And  him  exalted  high  above 
Heroic  chiefs  I  truly  love,' 

CANTO  CXIX. 


THE  FOREST. 

When  Anasuya,  virtuous-souled, 
Had  heard  the  tale  by  Sita  told, 
She  kissed  the  lady's  brow  and  laced 
Her  loving  arms  around  her  waist. 
*  With  sweet-toned  words  distinct  and  clear 
Thy  pleasant  tale  has  charmed  mine  ear, 
How  the  great  king  thy  father  held 
That  Maiden's  Choice  unparalleled. 
But  now  the  sun  has  sunk  from  sight, 
And  left  the  world  to  holy  Night. 
Hark  !  how  the  leafy  thickets  sound 
With  gathering  birds  that  twitter  round  : 
They  sought  their  food  by  day,  and  all 
Flock  homeward  when  the  shadows  fall. 
See,  hither  comes  the  hermit  band, 
Each  with  his  pitcher  in  his  hand  : 
Fresh  from  the  bath,  their  locks  are  wet, 
Their  coats  of  bark  are  dripping  yet. 
Here  saints  their  fires  of  worship  "tend, 
And  curling  wreaths  of  smoke  ascend  : 
Borne  on  the  flames  they  mount  above, 
Dark  as  the  brown  wings  of  the  dove. 
The  distant  trees,  though  well-nigh  bare, 
Gloom  thickenend  by  the  evening  air, 
And  in  the  faint  uncertain  light 
Shut  the  horizon  from  our  sight. 
The  beasts  that  prowl  in  darkness  rove 
On  every  side  about  the  grove, 
And  the  tame  deer,  at  ease  reclined 
Their  shelter  near  the  altars  find. 
The  night  o'er  all  the  sky  is  spread, 
With  lunar  stars  engarlanded, 
And  risen  in  his  robes  of  light 
The  moon  is  beautifully  bright. 
Now  to  thy  lord  I  bid  thee  go  : 
Thy  pleanant  tale  has  charmed  me  so : 
One  thing  alone  I  needs  must  pray, 
Before  me  first  thyself  array  : 
Here  in  thy  heavenly  raiment  shine, 
And  glad,  dear  love,  these  eyes  of  mine.' 


Canto  I. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


229 


Then  like  a  heavenly  Goddess  shone 
Fair  Sita  with  that  raiment  on. 
She  bowed  her  to  the  matron's  feel, 
Then  turned  away  her  lord  to  meet. 
The  hero  prince  with  joy  surveyed 
His  Sita  in  her  robes  arrayed, 
As  glorious  to  his  arms  she  came 
With  love-gifts  of  the  saintly  dame. 
She  told  him  how  the  saint  to  show 
Her  fond  affection  would  bestow 
That  garland  of  celestial  twine, 
Those  ornaments  and  robes  divine. 
Then  Rama's  heart,  nor  Lakshman's  less, 
Was  filled  with  pride  and  happiness, 
For  honours  high  had  Sita  gained, 
Which  mortal  dames  have  scarce  obtained. 
There  honoured  by  each  pious  sage 
Who  dwelt  within  the  hermitage, 
Beside  his  darling  well  content 
That  sacred  night  the  hero  spent. 

The  princes,  when  the  night  had  fled, 
Farewell  to  all  the  hermits  said, 
Who  gazed  upon  the  distant  shade, 
Their  lustral  rites  and  offerings  paid. 
The  saints  who  made  their  dwelling  there 
In  words  like  these  addressed  the  pair  : 
'  O  Princes,  monsters  tierce  and  fell 
Around  that  distant  forest  dwell : 
On  blood  from  human  veins  they  feed, 
And  various  forms  assume  at  need, 
With  savage  beasts  of  fearful  power 
That  human  flesh  and  blood  devour. 
Our  holy  saints  they  rend  and  tear 
When  met  alone  or  unaware, 
And  eat  them  in  their  cruel  joy: 
These  chase,  O  Rama,  or  destroy. 
By  this  one  path  our  hermits  go 
To  fetch  the  fruits  that  yonder  grow : 
By  this,  0  Prince,  thy  feet  should  stray 
Through  pathless  forests  far  away.' 

Thus  by  the  reverent  saints  addressed, 
And  by  their  prayers  auspicious  blessed, 

He  left  the  holy  crowd  : 
His  wife  and  brother  by  his  side, 
Within  the  mighty  wood  he  hied. 
So  sinks  the  Day-God  in  his  pride 

Beneath  a  bank  of  cloud. 


BOOK  III. 


CANTO  I. 


THE  HERMITAGE. 

When  Rama,  valiant  hero,  stood 
In  the  vast  shade  of  Dandak  wood, 
His  eyes  on  every  side  he  bent 
And  saw  a  hermit  settlement, 
Where  coats  of  bark  were  hung  around, 
And  holy  grass  bestrewed  the  ground. 
Bright  with  Brahmanic  lustre  glowed 
That  circle  where  the  saints  abode  : 
Like  the  hot  sun  in  heaven  it  shone, 
Too  dazzling  to  be  looked  upon. 
Wild  creatures  found  a  refuge  where 
The  court,  well- swept,  was  bright  and  fair, 
Aud  countless  birds  and  roedeer  made 
Their  dwelling  in  the  friendly  shade. 
Beneath  the  boughs  of  well- loved  trees 
Oft  danced  the  gay  Apsarases.1 
Around  was  many  an  ample  shed 
Wherein  the  holy  tire  was  fed ; 
With  sacred  grass  and  skins  of  deer, 
Ladles  and  sacrificial  gear, 
And  roots  and  fruit,  and  wood  to  burn, 
And  many  a  brimming  water- urn. 
Tall  trees  their  hallowed  branches  spread, 
Laden  with  pleasant  fruit,  o'erhead  ; 
Aud  gifts  which  holy  laws  require,'-' 
And  solemn  offerings  burnt  with  tire,3 
And  Veda  chants  on  every  side 
That  home  of  hermits  sanctitied. 
There  many  a  flower  its  odour  shed, 
And  lotus  blooms  the  lake  o'erspred. 
There,  clad  in  coats  of  bark  and  hide,— 
Their  food  by  roots  and  fruit  supplied,—* 
Dwelt  many  an  old  and  reverend  sire 
Bright  as  the  sun  or  Lord  of  Fire, 
All  with  each  worldly  sense  subdued, 
A  pure  and  saintly  multitude. 
The  Veda  chants,  the  saints  who  trod 
The  sacred  ground  and  mused  on  God, 
Made  that  delightful  grove  appear 
Like  Brahma's  own  most  glorious  sphere. 
As  Raghu's  splendid  son  surveyed 
That  hermit  home  and  tranquil  shade, 
He  loosed  his  mighty  bow-string,  then 
Drew  nearer  to  the  holy  men. 

1  Heavenly  nymphs. 

*  The  balit  or  present  of  food  to  all 
created  beings. 

3  The  clarified  butter  &c.  cast  into  the 
sacred  lire, 


230 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  III. 


With  keen  celestial  sight  endued 
Those  mighty  saints  the  chief  tain  viewed, 
"With  joy  to  meet  the  prince  they  came, 
And  gentle  Sita  dear  to  fame. 
They  looked  on  virtuous  Rama,  fair 
As  Soma1  in  the  evening  air, 
And  Lakshman  by  his  brother's  side, 
And  iSita  long  in  duty  tried, 
And  with  glad  blessings  every  sage 
Keceived  them  in  the  hermitage. 
Then  Rama's  form  and  stature  tall 
Entranced  the  wondering  eyes  of  all, — 
His  youthful  grace,  his  strength  of  limb, 
And  garb  that  nobly  sat  on  him. 
To  Lakshman  too  their  looks  they  raised, 
And  upon  Sita's  beauty  gazed 
With  eyes  that  closed  not  lest  their  sight 
Should  miss  the  vision  of  delight. 
Then  the  pure  hermits  of  the  wood, 
Kejoicing  in  all  creatures'  good, 
Their  guest,  the  glorious  Kama,  led 
Within  a  cot  with  leaves  overhead. 
With  highest  honour  all  the  best 
Of  radiant  saints  received  their  guest, 
With  kind  observance,  as  is  meet, 
And  gave  him  water  for  his  feet. 
To  highest  pitch  of  rapture  wrought 
Their  stores  of  roots  and  fruitthey  brought. 
They  poured  their  blessings  on  his  head, 
And  '  All  we  have  is  thine,'  they  said. 
Then,  reverent  hand  to  hand  applied, a 
Bach  duty-loving  hermit  cried : 
'  The  king  is  our  protector,  bright 
In  fame,  maintainer  of  the  right. 
He  bears  the  awful  sword,  and  hence 
Deserves  an  elder's  reverence. 
One  fourth  of  Indra's  essence,  he 
Preserves  his  realm  from  danger  free. 
Hence  honoured  by  the  world,  of  right 
The  king  enjoys  each  choice  delight. 
Thou  shouldst  to  us  protection  give, 
For  in  thy  realm,  dear  lord,  we  live : 
Whether  in  town  or  wood  thou  be, 
Thou  art  our  king,  thy  people  we. 
Our  wordly  arms  are  laid  aside, 
Our  hearts  are  tamed  and  purified. 
To  thee  our  guardian,  we  who  earn 
Our  only  wealth  by  penance  turn,' 

Then  the  pure  dwellers  in  the  shade 
To  Raghu's  son  due  honour  paid, 
And  Lakshman,  bringing  store  of  roots, 
And  many  a  flower,  and  woodland  fruits. 


1  The  Moon-God  :  'he  is,'  says  the  com- 
mentator, 'the  special  deity  of  Brahmans.' 

*  *  Because  he  was  an  incarnation  of  the 
deity,'  says  the  commentator,  'otherwise 
such  honour  paid  by  men  of  the  sacerdotal 
caste  to  one  of  the  military  would  be  im- 
proper.' 


And  others  strove  the  prince  to  please 
With  ail  attentive  courtesies. 


CANTO   II. 


VIRADHA. 

Thus  entertained  he  passed  the  night, 
Then,  with  the  morning's  early  light, 
To  all  the  hermits  bade  adieu 
And  sought  his  onward  way  anew. 
He  pierced  the  mighty  forest  where 
Roamed  many  a  deer  and  pard  and  bear: 
Its  ruined  pools  he  scarce  could  see. 
For  creeper  rent  and  prostrate  tree, 
Where  shrill  cicala's  cries  were  heard, 
And  plaintive  notes  of  many  a  bird. 
Deep  in  the  thickets  of  the  wood 
With  Lalvshman  and  his  spouse  he  stood, 
There  in  the  horrid  shade  he  saw 
A  giant  passing  nature's  law  : 
Vast  as  some  mountain-peak  in  size, 
With  mighty  voice  and  sunken  eyes, 
Huge,  hideous,  tall,  with  monstrous  face, 
Most  ghastly  of  his  giant  race. 
A  tiger's  hide  the  Kakshas  wore 
Still  reeking  with  the  fat  and  gore : 
Huge-faced,  like  Him  who  rules  the  dead, 
All  living  things  he  struck  with  dread. 
Three  lions,  tigers  four,  ten  deer 
He  carried  on  his  iron  spear, 
Two  wolves,  an  elephant's  head  beside 
With  mighty  tusks  which  blood-drops  dyed. 
When  on  the  three  his  tierce  eye  fell, 
He  charged  them  with  a  roar  and  yell 
As  furious  as  the  grisly  King 
When  stricken  worlds  are  perishing 
Then  with  a  mighty  roar  that  shooK 
The  earth  beneath  their  feet,  he  took 
The  trembling  Sita  to  his  side. 
Withdrew  a  little  space,  and  cried  : 
1  Ha,  short-lived  wretches  !  ye  who  dare, 
In  hermit  dress  with  matted  hair, 
Armed  each  with  arrows,  sword,  and  bow, 
Through  Dandak's  pathless  wood  to  go  : 
How  with  one  dame,  I  bid  you  tell, 
Can  you  among  ascetics  dwell  ? 
Who  are  ye,  sinners,  who  despise 
The  right,  in  holy  men's  disguise  ? 
The  great  Viradha,  day  by  day 
Through  this  deep-tangled  wood  I  stray, 
And  ever,  armed  with  trusty  steel, 
I  seize  a  saint  to  make  my  meal. 
This  woman  young  and  fair  of  frame 
Shall  be  the  conquering  giant's  dame: 
Your  blood,  ye  things  of  evil  life, 
My  lips  shall  quaff  in  battle  strife.' 

He  spoke  :  and  Janak's  hapless  child, 
Scared  by  his  speech  so  fierce  and  wild, 


Canto  III. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


231 


Trembled  for  terror,  as  a  frail 
Young  plantain  shivers  in  the  gale. 
When  Rama  saw  Viradha  clasp 
Fair  Sita  in  his  mighty  grasp, 
Thus  with  pale  lips  that  terror  dried 
The  hero  to  his  brother  cried  : 
'  O  see  Viradha's  arm  enfold 
My  darling  in  its  cursed  hold, — 
The  child  of  Janak  best  of  kings, 
My  spouse  whose  soul  to  virtue  clings, 
Sweet  princess,  with  pure  glory  bright, 
Nursed  in  the  lap  of  soft  delight. 
Now  falls  the  blow  Kaikeyi  meant, 
Successful  in  her  dark  intent: 
This  day  her  cruel  soul  will  be 
Triumphant  over  thee  and  me. 
Though  Bharat  on  the  throne  is  set, 
Her  greedy  eyes  look  farther  yet : 
Me  from  my  home  she  dared  expel, 
Me  whom  all  creatures  loved  so  well. 
This  fatal  day  at  length,  I  ween, 
Brings  triumph  to  the  younger  queen. 
I  see  with  bitterest  grief  and  shame 
Another  touch  the  Maithil  dame. 
Not  loss  of  sire  and  royal  power 
So  grieves  me  as  this  mournful  hour.' 

Thus  in  his  anguish  cried  the  chief  : 
Then  drowned  in  tears,   o'er  whelmed  b 

grief, 

Thus  Lakshman  in  his  anger  spake, 
Quick  panting  like  a  spell-bound  snake  : 

'  Canst  thou,  my  brother,  Indra's  peer, 
When  I  thy  minister  am  near, 
Thus  grieve  like  some  forsaken  thing, 
Thou,  every  creature's  lord  and  king? 
My  vengeful  shaft  the  fiend  shall  slay, 
And  earth  shall  drink  his  blood  to-day. 
The  fury  which  my  soul  at  first 
Upon  usurping  Bharat  nursed, 
On  this  Viradha  will  I  wreak 
As  Indra  splits  the  mountain  peak. 
Winged  by  this  arm's  impetuous  might 

My  shaft  with  deadly  force 
The  monster  in  the  chest  shall  smite, 

And  fell  his  shattered  corse.' 


CANTO  III. 


VIRADHA  ATTACKED, 

Viradha  with  a  fearful  shout 

That  echoed  through  the  wood,  cried  out ; 

'  What  men  are  ye,  I  bid  you  say, 
And  whither  would  ye  bend  your  way  ? ' 

To  him  whose  mouth  shot  fiery  flame 
The  hero  told  his  race  and  name  : 
Two  Warriors,  nobly  bred,  are  we, 
And  through  this  wood  we  wander  free. 
T3ut  who  art  thou,  how  born  and  styled, 
Who  roamest  herein  Daudak's  wild?' 


To  Rama,  bravest  of  the  brave, 
His  answer  thus  Viradha  gave  : 
'  Hear,  Raghu's  son,  and  mark  me  well, 
And  1  my  name  and  race  will  tell. 
Of  ^atahrada  born,  I  spring 
From  Java  as  my  sire,  O  King  : 
Me,  of  this  lofty  lineage,  all 
Giants  on  earth  Viradha  call. 
The  rites  austere  1  long  maintained 
From  Brahma's  grace  the  boon  have  gained 
To  bear  a  charmed  frame  which  ne'er 
Weapon  or  shaft  may  pierce  or  tear. 
Go  as  ye  came,  untouched  by  fear, 
And  leave  with  me  this  woman  here  : 
Go,  swiftly  from  my  presence  fly, 
Or  by  this  hand  ye  both  shall  die.' 

Then  Rama  with  his  fierce  eyes  red 
With  fury  to  the  giant  said : 
'  Woe  to  thee,  sinner,  fond  and  weak, 
Who  madly  thus  thy  death  wilt  seek  ! 
Stand,  for  it  waits  thee  in  the  fray  : 
With  life  thou  ne'er  shalt  flee  away.' 

He  spoke,  and  raised  the  cord  whereon 
A  pointed  arrow  flashed  and  shone, 
Then,  wild  with  anger,  from  his  bow 
He  launched  the  weapon  on  the  foe. 
Seven  times  the  fatal  cord  he  drew, 
And  forth  seven  rapid  arrows  flew, 
Shafts  winged  with  gold  that  left  the  wind 
And  e'en  Suparna's1  self  behind. 
Full  on  the  giant's  breast  they  smote, 
And  purpled  like  the  peacock's  throat, 
Passed  through  his  mighty  bulk  and  came 
To  earth  again  like  flakes  of  flame. 
The  fiend  the  Maithil  dame  unclasped  ; 
In  his  fierce  hand  his  spear  he  grasped, 
And  wild  with  rage,  pierced  through  and 

tb rough, 

At  Rama  and  his  brother  flew. 
So  loud  the  roar  which  chilled  with  fear, 
So  massy  was  the  monster's  spear, 
He  seemed,  Like  Indra's  flagstaff,  dread 
As  the  dark  God  who  rules  the  dead. 
On  huge  Viradha  fierce  as  He  2 
Who  smites,  and  worlds  have  ceased  to  be, 
The  princely  brothers  poured  amain 
Their  fiery  flood  of  arrowy  rain. 
Unmoved  he  stood,  and  opening  wide 
His  dire  mouth  laughed  unterrified, 
And  ever  as  the  monster  gaped 
Those  arrows  from  his  jaws  escaped. 
Preserving  still  his  life  unharmed, 
By  Brahma's  saving  promise  charmed, 
His  mighty  spear  aloft  in  air 
He  raised,  and  rushed  upon  the  pair. 
From  Rama's  bow  two  arrows  flew 
And  cleft  that  massive  spear  in  two, 


1  The  King  of  birds. 
*    Ealdntakayamopamam,     resembling 
Yama  the  destroyer. 


232 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  III. 


Dire  as  the  flaming  levin  sent 
From  out  the  cloudy  firmament. 
Cut  by  the  shafts  he  guided  well 
To  earth  the  giant's  weapon  fell  : 
As  when  from  JVleru's  summit,  riven 
By  fiery  bolts,  a  rock  is  driven. 
Then  swift  his  sword  each  warrior  drew, 
Like  a  dread  serpent  black  of  hue, 
And  gathering  fury  for  the  blow 
Rushed  fiercely  on  the  giant  foe. 
Around  each  prince  an  arm  he  cast, 
And  held  the  dauntless  heroes  fast ; 
Then,  though  his  gashes  gaped  and  bled, 
Bearing  the  twain  he  turned  and  fled. 

Then  Kama  saw  the  giant's  plan, 
And  to  his  brother  thus  began  : 
'O  Lakshman,  let  Viradha  still 
Hurry  us  onward  as  he  will, 
For  look,  Sumitra's  son,  he  goes 
Along  the  path  we  freely  chose.' 

He  spoke  :  the  rover  of  the  night 
Upraised  them  with  terrific  might, 
Till,  to  his  lofty  shoulders  swung, 
Like  children  to  his  neck  they  clung. 
Then  sending  far  his  fearful  roar, 
The  princes  through  the  wood  he  bore, — 
A  wood,  like  some  vast  cloud  to  view, 
Where  birds  of  every  plumage  flew, 
And  mighty  trees  o'erarching  threw 

Dark  shadows  on  the  ground  ; 
"Where  snakes  and  silvan  creatures  made 
Their  dwelling,  and  the  jackal  strayed 

Through  tangled  brakes  around. 


CANTO  IV. 
VIRADHA'S  DEATH. 

But  Sita  viewed  with  wild  affright 
The  heroes  hurried  from  her  sight. 
She  tossed  her  shapely  arms  on  high, 
And  shrieked  aloud  her  bitter  cry  : 
*  Ah,  the  dread  giant  bears  away 
The  princely  Rama  as  his  prey, 
Truthful  and  pure,  and  good  and  great, 
And  Lakshman  shares  his  brother's  fate. 
The  brindled  tiger  and  the  bear 
My  mangled  limbs  for  food  will  tear. 
Take  me,  O  best  of  giants,  me, 
And  leave  the  sons  of  Raghu  free.' 

Then,  by  avenging  fury  spurred, 
Her  mournful  cry  the  heroes  heard. 
And  hastened,  for  the  lady's  sake, 
The  wicked  monster's  life  to  take. 
Then  Lakshman  with  resistless  stroke 
The  foe's  left  arm  that  held  him  broke, 
And  Rama  too,  as  swift  to  smite, 
Smashed  with  his  heavy  hand  the  right. 
With  broken  arms  and'tortured  frame 
To  earth  the  fainting  giant  came, 


Like  a  huge  cloud,  or  mighty  rock 
Rent,  sundered  by  the  levin's  shock. 
Then  rushed  they  on,  and  crushed  and  beat 
Their  foe  with  arms  and  h'sts  and  feet, 
And  nerved  each  mighty  limb  to  pound 
And  bray  him  on  the  level  ground. 
Keen  arrows  and  each  biting  blade 
Wide  rents  in  breast  and  side  had  made  ; 
But  crushed  and  torn  and  mangled,  still 
The  monster  lived  they  could  not  kill. 
When  Kama  saw  no  arms  might  slay 
The  fiend  who  like  a  mountain  lay, 
The  glorious  hero,  swift  to  save 
In  danger,  thus  his  counsel  gave  : 
'  O  Prince  of  men,  his  charmed  life 
No  arms  may  take  in  battle  strife  : 
Now  dig  we  in  this  grove  a  pit 
His  elephantine  bulk  to  fit, 
And  let  the  hollowed  earth  enfold 
The  monster  of  gigantic  mould.' 

This  said,  the  son  of  Raghu  pressed 
His  foot  upon  the  giant's  breast. 
With  joy  the  prostrate  monster  heard 
Victorious  Rama's  welcome  word, 
And  straight  Kakutstha's  son,  the  best 
Of  men,  in  wordb  like  these  addressed: 
'  1  yield,  O  chieftain,  overthrown 
By  might  that  vies  with  Indra's  own. 
Till  now  my  folly -blinded  eyes 
Thee,  hero,  failed  to  recognize. 
Happy  Kausalya  !  blest  to  be 
The  mother  of  a  son  like  thee ! 
1  know  thee  well,  O  chieftain,  now: 
Rarna,  the  prince  of  men,  art  thou. 
There  stands  the  high-bora  Alaithil  dame, 
There  Lakshman,  lord  of  mighty  fame. 
My  name  was  Tumburu,1  for  song 
Renowned  among  the  minstrel  throng  : 
Cursed  by  Kuvera's  stern  decree 
I  wear  the  hideous  shape  you  see. 
But  when  I  sued,  his  grace  to  crave, 
The  glorious  God  this  answer  gave  : 
*  When  Rama,  Dasuratha's  son, 
Destroys  thee  and  the  fight  is  won, 
Thy  proper  shape  once  more  assume, 
And  heaven  again  shall  give  thee  room.' 
When  thus  the  angry  God  replied, 
No  prayers  could  turn  his  wrath  aside, 
And  thus  on  me  his  fury  fell 
For  loving  RambhaVs2  charms  too  well. 
Now  through  thy  favour  am  I  freed 
From  the  stern  fate  the  God  decreed, 
And  saved,  O  tamer  of  the  foe, 

1  Somewhat  inconsistently  with  this  part 
of  the  story  Tumburu  is  mentioned  in  Book 
II.  Canto  XII  as  one  of  the  Gandharvas 
or  heavenly  minstrels  summoned  to  per- 
form at  Bharadvdja's  feast. 

*  Rambha  appears  in  Book  I.  Canto 
LX1V  as  the  temptress  of  Yisvuniitra. 


Canto  V. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


By  thee,  to  heaven  again  shall  go. 
A  league,  O  Prince,  beyond  this  spot 
Stands  holy  $arabhanga's  cot : 
The  very  sun  is  not  more  bright 
Than  that  most  glorious  anchorite  : 
To  him,  O  Kama,  quickly  turn, 
And  blessings  from  the  hermit  earn. 
First  under  earth  my  body  throw, 
Then  on  thy  way  rejoicing  go. 
Such  is  the  law  ordained  of  old 
For  giants  when  their  days  are  told  : 
Their  bodies  laid  in  earth,  they  rise 
To  homes  eternal  in  the  skies.' 

Thus,  by  the  rankling  dart  oppressed, 
Kakutstha's  offspring  he  addressed  : 
In  earth  his  mighty  body  lay, 
His  spirit  fled  to  heaven  away. 

Thus  spake  Viradha  ere  he  died  ; 
And  Kama  to  his  brother  cried  : 
'  Now  dig  we  in  this  grove  a  pit 
His  elephantine  bulk  to  fit. 
And  let  the  hollowed  earth  enfold 
This  mighty  giant  fierce  and  bold.' 

This  said,  the  valiant  hero  put 
Upon  the  giant's  neck  his  foot. 
His  spade  obedient  Lakshmnn  plied, 
And  dug  a  pit  both  deep  and  wide 
By  lofty-souled  Viradha's  side. 
Then  Raghu's  son  his  foot  withdrew, 
And  down  the  mighty  form  they  threw ; 
One  awful  shout  of  joy  he  gave 
And  sank  into  the  open  grave. 
The  horoes,  to  their  purpose  true, 
In  fight  the  cruel  demon  slew, 

And  radiant  with  delight 
Deep  in  the  hollowed  earth  they  cast 
The  monster  roaring  to  the  last, 

In  their  resistless  might. 
Thus  when  they  saw  the  warrior's  steel 
No  life- destroy  ing  blow  might  deal, 

The  pair,  for  lore  renowned, 
Deep  in  the  pit  their  hands  had  made 
The  unresisting  giant  laid, 

And  killed  him  neath  the  ground. 
Upon  himself  the  monster  brought 
From  Rama's  hand  the  death  he  sought 

With  strong  desire  to  gain  : 
And  thus  the  rover  of  the  night 
Told  Rama,  as  they  strove  in  tight, 
That  swords  might  rend  and  arrows  smite 

Upon  his  breast  in  vain. 
Thus  Rjima,  when  his  speech  he  heard, 
The  giant's  mighty  form  interred, 

Which  mortal  arms  defied. 
With  thundering  crash  the  giant  fell, 
And  rock  and  cave  and  forest  dell 

With  echoing  roar  replied. 
The  princes,  when  their  task  was  done 
And  freedom  from  the  peril  won, 

Rejoiced  to  see  him  die. 
Then  iu  the  boundless  wood  they  strayed, 


Like  the  great  sun  and  moon  displayed 
Triumphant  in  the  sky.1 


CANTO  V. 


SARABHANGA. 

Then  Rama,  having  slain  in  fight 

Viradha  of  terrific  might, 

With  gentle  words  his  spouse  consoled, 

And  clasped  her  in  his  loving  hold. 

Then  to  his  brother  nobly  brave 

The  valiant  prince  his  counsel  gave  : 

'  Wild  are  these  woods  around  us  spread- 

And  hard  and  rough  the  ground  to  tread': 

We.  O  my  brother,  ne'er  have  viewed 

So  dark  and  drear  a  solitude: 

To  ^arabhanga  let  us  haste, 

Whom  wealth  of  holy  works  has  graced.1 

Thus  Rama  spoke,  and  took  the  road 
To  $arabhanga's  pure  abode. 
But  near  that  saint  whose  lustre  vied 
With  Gods,  by  penance  purified. 
With  startled  eyes  the  prince  beheld 
A  wondrous  sight  unparalleled. 
In  splendour  like  the  tire  and  sun 
He  saw  a  great  and  glorious  one. 
Upon  a  noble  car  he  rode, 
Arid  many  a  God  behind  him  glowed  : 
And  earth  beneath  his  feet  unpressed1 
The  monarch  of  the  skies  confessed. 
Ablaze  with  gems,  no  dust  might  dim 
The  bright  attire  that  covered  him. 
Arrayed  like  him,  on  every  side 
High  saints  their  master  glorified. 
Near,  borne  iu  air,  appeared  in  view 
His  car  which  tawny  coursers  drew, 
Like  silver  cloud,  the  moon,  or  sun 
Ere  yet  the  day  is  well  begun. 
Wreathed  with  gay  garlands,  o'er  his  head 
A  pure  white  canopy  was  spread, 
And  lovely  nymphs  stood  nigh  to  hold 
?air  chouris  with  their  sticks  of  gold, 
kVhich,  waving  in  each  gentle  hand, 
['he  forehead  of  their  monarch  fanned. 
God,  saint,  and  bard,  a  radiant  ring, 
Sang  glory  to  their  heavenly  King  : 
^rth  into  joyful  lauds  they  burst 
Indra  with  the  sage  conversed. 
?hen  Rama,  when  his  wondering  eyes 
Beheld  the  monarch  of  the  skies, 


1  The  conclusion  of  this  Canto  is  all  a 
ain  repetition  :  it  is  manifestly  spurious 
nd  a  very  feeble  imitation  of  Valmiki'a 
tyle.  See  Additional  iVotes. 

1  '  Even  when  he  had  alight  ed,'  says  the 
ommentator.  The  feet  of  G  ods  do  not 
ouch  the  ground. 


234 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Bool  III. 


To  Lakshman  quickly  called,  and  showed 
The  car  wherein  Lord  Indra  rode : 
'  See,  brother,  see  that  air-borne  car, 
Whose  wondrous  glory  shines  afar : 
Wherefrom  so  bright  a  lustre  streams 
That  like  a  falling  sun  it  seems. 
These  are  the  steeds  whose  fame  we  know, 
Of  heavenly  race  through  heaven  they  go: 
These  are  the  steeds  who  bear  the  yoke 
Of  li^akra,1  Him  whom  all  invoke. 
Behold  these  youths,  a  glorious  band, 
Toward  every  wind  a  hundred  stand  : 
A  sword  in  each  right  hand  is  borne, 
And  rings  of  gold  their  arms  adorn. 
What  might  in  every  broad  deep  chest 
And  club-like  arm  is  manifest ! 
Clothed  in  attire  of  crimson  hue 
They  show  like  tigers  fierce  to  view. 
Great  chains  of  gold  each  warder  deck, 
Gleaming  like  fire  beneath  his  neck. 
The  age  of  each  fair  youth  appears 
Some  score  and  five  of  human  years; 
The  ever-blooming  prime  which  they 
Who  live  in  heaven  retain  for  aye  : 
Such  mien  these  lordly  beings  wear, 
Heroic  youths,  most  bright  and  fair. 
Now,  brother,  in  this  spot,  I  pray, 
With  the  Videhan  lady  stay, 
Till  I  have  certain  knowledge  who 
This  being  is,  so  bright  to  view.' 

He  spoke,  and  turning  from  the  spot 
Sought  $arabhanga's  hermit  cot. 
But  when  the  lord  of  $achi^  saw 
The  son  of  Raghu  near  him  draw, 
He  hastened  of  the  sage  to  take 
His  leave,  and  to  his  followers  spake  : 

'  See.,  Rama  bends  his  steps  this  way, 
But  ere  he  yet  a  word  can  say, 
Come,  fly  to  our  celestial  sphere  ; 
It  is  not  meet  he  see  me  here. 
Soon  victor  and  triumphant  he 
In  fitter  time  shall  look  on  me. 
Before  him  still  a  great  emprise, 
A  task  too  hard  for  others,  lies.' 

Then  with  all  marks  of  honour  high 
The  Thunderer  bade  the  saint  good-bye, 
Arid  in  his  car  which  coursers  drew 
Away  to  heaven  the  conqueror  flew. 
Then  Rama,  Lakshman,  and  the  dame, 
To  ^arabhanga  nearer  came, 
Who  sat  beside  the  holy  flame. 
Before  the  ancient  sage  they  bent. 
And  clasped  his  feet  most  reverent ; 
Then  at  his  invitation  found 
A  seat  beside  him  on  the  ground. 
Then  Rarna  prayed  the  sage  would  deign 
Lord  Indra's  visit  to  explain  ; 

1  A  name  of  Indra. 

7  &achi  ia  the  consort  of  Indra. 


And  thus  at  length  the  holy  man 
In  answer  to  his  prayer  began : 

'This  Lord  of  boons  has  sought  me  here 
To  waft  me  hence  to  Brahma's  sphere, 
Won  by  my  penance  long  and  stern, — • 
A  home  the  lawless  ne'er  can  earn. 
But  when  I  knew  that  thou  wast  nigh, 
To  Brahma's  world  I  could  not  fly 
Until  these  longing  eyes  were  blest 
With  seeing  thee,  mine  honoured  guest. 
Since  thou,  0  Prince,  hast  cheered  my  sight, 
Great-hearted  lover  of  the  right, 
To  heavenly  spheres  will  I  repair 
And  bliss  supreme  that  waits  me  there. 
For  I  have  won,  dear  Prince,  my  way 
To  those  fair  worlds  which  ne'er  decay, 
Celestial  seat  of  Brahma's  reign  : 
Be  thine,  with  me,  those  worlds  to  gain.' 

Then  master,  of  all  sacred  lore, 
Spake  Rama  to  the  saint  once  more  : 

'  I,  even  1,  illustrious  sage, 
Will  make  those  worlds  mine  heritage  : 
But  now,  I  pray,  some  home  assign 
Within  this  holy  grove  of  thine.' 

Thus  Rama,  Indra's  peer  in  might, 
Addressed  the  aged  anchorite ; 
And  he,  with  wisdom  well  endued, 
To  Raghu's  son  his  speech  renewed  : 

'  Sutikshna's  woodland  home  is  near, 
A  glorious  saint  of  life  austere, 
True  to  the  path  of  duty:  he 
With  highest  bliss  will  prosper  thee. 
Against  the  stream  thy  course  must  be 
Of  this  fair  brook  Mandakini, 
Whereon  light  rafts  like  blossoms  glide  ; 
Then  to  his  cottage  turn  aside. 
There  lies  thy  path:  but  ere  thou  go, 
Look  on  me.  dear  one,  till  I  throw 
Aside  this  mould  that  girds  me  in, 
As  casts  the  snake  his  withered  skin.* 

He  spoke,  the  fire  in  order  laid, 
With  holy  oil  due  offerings  made, 
And  ^arabhanga,  glorious  sire, 
Laid  down  his  body  in  the  fire. 
Then  rose  the  flame  above  his  head, 
On  skin,  blood,  flesh,  and  bones  it  fed, 
Till  forth,  transformed,  with  radiant  hue 
Of  tender  youth,  he  rose  anew. 
Far-shining  in  his  bright  attire 
Came  Sarabhanga  from  the  pyre  ; 
Above  the  home  of  saints,  and  those 
Who  feed  the  quenchless  flame,1  he  rose  : 
Beyond  the  seat  of  Gods  he  passed, 
And  Brahma's  sphere  was  gained  at  last. 


1  The  spheres  or  mansions  gained  by 
those  who  have  duly  performed  the  sacri- 
fices required  of  them.  Different  situations 
are  assigned  to  these  spheres,  some  plac- 
ing them  near  the  sun,  others  near  the 
moon, 


Canto  VI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


23 


The  noblest  of  the  twice-born  face, 
For  holy  works  supreme  in  place, 
The  Mighty  Father  there  beheld 
Girt  round  by  hosts  unparalleled; 
And  Brahma  joying  at  the  sight 
Welcomed  the  glorious  anchorite. 


CANTO  VI. 


KAMA'S  PROMISE. 

When  he  his  heavenly  home  had  found, 
The  holy  men  who  dwelt  around 
To  Rama  flocked,  whose  martial  fame 
Shone  glorious  as  the  kindled  flame  : 
Yaikhanaaas  l  who  love  the  wild. 
Pure  hermits  Balakhilyas  *  styled, 
Good  Sarnprakshalas, 3  saints  who  live 
On  rays  which  moon  and  daystar  give  : 
Those  who  with  leaves  their  lives  sustain 
And  those  who  pound  with  stones  then' 

grain: 

And  they  who  lie  in  pools,  and  those 
Whose  corn,  save  teeth,  no  winnow  knows: 
Those  who  for  beds  the  cold  earth  use, 
And  those  who  every  couch  refuse  : 
And  those  condemned  to  ceaseless  pains, 
Whose  single  foot  their  weight  sustains: 
And  those  who  sleep  neath  open  skies, 
Whose  food  the  wave  or  air  supplies, 
And  hermits  pure  who  spend  their  nights 
On  ground  prepared  for  sacred  rites  ; 
Those  who  on  hills  their  vigil  hold, 
Or  dripping  clothes  around  them  fold  : 
The  devotees  who  live  for  prayer, 
Or  the  five  fires  4  unflinching  bear. 
On  contemplation  all  intent, 
With  light  that  heavenly  knowledge  lent, 
They  came  to  Kama,  saint  and  sage, 
In  £arabhaga's  hermitage. 
The  hermit  crowd  around  him  pressed, 
And  thus  the  virtuous  chief  addressed : 
'The  lordship  of  the  earth  is  thine, 
O  Prince  of  old  Ikshvaku's  line, 


1  Hermits  who  live  upon  roots  which 
they  dig  out  of  the  earth:  literally  diggers, 
derived  from  the  prefix  in  and  khan  to  dig. 

*  Generally,  divine  personages  of  the 
height  of  a  man's  thumb,  produced  from 
Brahma's  hair:  here,  according  to  the 
commentator  followed  by  Gorresio,  hermits 
who  when  they  have  obtained  fresh  food 
throw  away  what  they  had  laid  up  before. 

3  Sprung  from  the  washings  of  Vishnu's 
feet. 

4  Four  fires  burning  round  them,  and 
the  sun  above, 


Lord  of  the  Gods  is  Indra,  so 

Thou  art  our  lord  and  guide  below. 

Thy  name,  the  glory  of  thy  might, 

Throughout  the  triple  world  are  bright : 

Thy  filial  love  so  nobly  shown, 

Thy  truth  and  virtue  well  are  known, 

To  thee,  O  lord,  for  help  we  fly, 

And  on  thy  love  of  right  rely  : 

With  kindly  patience  hear  us  speak. 

And  grant  the  boon  we  humbly  seek. 

That  lord  of  earth  were  most  unjust, 

Foul  traitor  to  his  solemn  trust, 

Who  should  a  sixth  of  all l  require, 

Nor  guard  his  people  like  a  sire. 

But  he  who  ever  watchful  strives 

To  guard  his  subjects'  wealth  and  lives, 

Dear  as  himself  or,  dearer  still, 

His  sons,  with  earnest  heart  and  will, — • 

That  king,  O  Raghu's  son,  secures 

High  fame  that  endless  years  endures, 

And  he  to  Brahma's  world  shall  rise, 

Made  glorious  in  the  eternal  skies. 

Whate'er,  by  duty  won,  the  meed 

Of  saints  whom  roots  and  berries  feed, 

One  fourth  thereof,  for  tender  care 

Of  subjects,  is  the  monarch's  share. 

These,  mostly  of  the  Brahman  race, 

Who  make  the  wood  their  dwelling-place. 

Although  a  friend  in  thee  they  view, 

Fall  friendless  neath  the  giant  crew. 

Come,  Rama,  come,  and  see  hard  by 

The  holy  hermits'  corpses  lie, 

Where  many  a  tangled  pathway  shows 

The  murderous  work  of  cruel  foes. 

These  wicked  fiends  the  hermits  kill 

Who  live  on  Chitrakuta's  hill, 

And  blood  of  slaughtered  saints  has  dyed 

Mandakini  and  Pampa's  side, 

No  longer  can  we  bear  to  see 

The  death  of  saint  and  devotee 

Whom  through  the  forest  day  by  day 

These  Rakshases  unpitying  slay. 

To  thee,  O  Prince,  we  flee,  and  crave 

Thy  guardian  help  our  lives  to  save. 

From  these  fierce  rovers  of  the  night 

Defend  each  stricken  anchorite. 

Throughout  the  world  'twere  vain  to  seek 

An  arm  like  thine  to  aid  the  weak. 

O  Prince,  we  pray  thee  hear  our  call, 

And  from  these  fiends  preserve  us  all.' 

The  son  of  Raghu  heard  the  plaint 
Of  penance-loving  sage  and  saint, 
And  the  good  prince  his  speech  renewed 
To  all  the  hermit  multitude : 

To  me,  O  saints,  ye  need  not  sue  : 
[  wait  the  nests  of  all  of  you. 
[  by  mine  own  occasion  led 
This  mighty  forest  needs  must  tread, 


The  tax  allowed  to  the  king  by  the 
Laws  of  Manu, 


236 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  111. 


And  while  I  keep  my  sire's  decree 

Your  lives  from  threatening  foes  will  free. 

I  hither  came  of  free  accord 

To  lend  the  aid  by  you  implored, 

And  richest  meed  my  toil  shall  pay, 

While  here  in  forest  shades  I  stay. 

I  long  in  battle  strife  to  close, 

And  slay  these  fiends,  the  hermits'  foes, 

That  saint  and  sage  may  learn  aright 

My  prowess  and  my  brother's  might.' 

Thus  to  the  saints  his  promise  gave 
That  prince  who  still  to  virtue  clave 

With  never- wandering  thought  : 
And  then  with  Lakshman  by  his  side, 
With  penance-wealthy  men  to  guide, 

Sutikshna's  home  he  sought. 

CANTO  VII. 

SUTIKSHNA, 

So  Raghu's  son,  his  foemen's  dread, 

With  SCta  and  his  brother  sped, 

Girt  round  by  many  a  twice-born  sage, 

To  good  Sutikshna's  hermitage.1 

Through  woods  for  many  a  league  he  passed, 

O'er  rushing  rivers  full  and  fast, 

Until  a  mountain  fair  and  bright 

As  lofty  Meru  rose  in  sight. 

Within  its  belt  of  varied  wood 

Ikshvaku's  sons  and  Sita  stood, 

Where  trees  of  every  foliage  bore 

Blossom  and  fruit  in  endless  store, 

There  coats  of  bark,  like  garlands  strung, 

Before  a  lonely  cottage  hung, 

And  there  a  hermit,  dust-besmeared, 

A  lotus  on  his  breast,  appeared. 

Then  Rama  with  obeisance  due 

Addressed  the  sage,  as  near  he  drew  : 

*  My  name  is  Rama,  lord  ;  I  seek 

Thy  presence,  saint,  with  thee  to  speak. 

0  sage,  whose  merits  ne'er  decay, 
Some  word  unto  thy  servant  say.' 

The  sage  his  eyes  on  Rama  bent, 
Of  virtue's  friends  preeminent ; 
Then  words  like  these  he  spoke,  and  pressed 
The  son  of  Kaghu  to  his  breast : 
'Welcome  to  thee, illustrious  youth, 
Best  champion  of  the  rights  of  truth  ! 
By  thine  approach  this  holy  ground 
Axworthy  lord  this  day  has  found. 

1  could  not  quit  this  mortal  frame 

Till  thou  shouldst  come,  O  dear  to  fame  : 
To  heavenly  spheres  I  would  not  rise, 
Expecting  thee  with  eager  eyes. 


I  knew  that  thou,  unkinged,  hadst  made 
Thy  home  in  Chitrakuta's  shade. 
E'en  now,  O  Rama,  Indra,  lord 
Supreme  by  all  the  Gods  adored, 
King  of  the  Hundred  Offerings,1  said, 
When  he  my  dwelling  visited, 
That  the  good  works  that  I  have  done 
My  choice  of  all  the  worlds  have  won. 
Accept  this  meed  of  holy  vows, 
And  with  thy  brother  and  thy  spouse, 
Koam,  through  my  favour,  in  the  sky 
Which  saints  celestial  glorify.' 

To  that  bright  sage,  of  penance  stern, 
The  high-Bottled  Rama  spake  in  turn, 
As  Vasava2  who  rules  the  skies 
To  Brahma's  gracious  speech  replies: 
*  I  of  myself  those  worlds  will  win, 
O  mighty  hermit  pure  from  sin  : 
But  now,  0  saint,  I  pray  thee  tell 
Where  I  within  this  wood  may  dwell : 
For  I  by  Sarabhanga  old, 
The  son  of  Gautama,  was  told 
That  thou  in  every  lore  art  wise, 
And  seest  all  with  loving  eyes.' 

Thus  to  the  saint,  whose  glories  high 
Filled  all  the  world,  he  made  reply  : 
And  thus  again  the  holy  man 
His  pleasant  speech  with  joy  began  : 
'  This  calm  retreat,  O  Prince,  is  blest 
With  many  a  charm  :  here  take  thy  rest. 
Here  roots  and  kindly  fruits  abound, 
And  hermits  love  the  holy  ground. 
Fair  silvan  beasts  and  gentle  deer 
In  herds  unnumbered  wander  here  : 
And  as  they  roam,  secure  from  harm, 
Our  eyes  with  grace  and  beauty  charm  : 
Except  the  beasts  in  thickets  bred, 
This  grove  of  ours  has  naught  to  dread.1 

The  hermit's  speech  when  Rama  heard, — 
The  hero  ne'er  by  terror  stirred,— 
On  his  great  bow  his  hand  he  laid, 
And  thus  in  turn  his  answer  made  : 
4  O  saint,  my  darts  of  keenest  steel, 
Armed  with  their  murderous  barbs,  would 

deal 

Destruction  mid  the  silvan  race 
That  flocks  around  thy  dwelling-place. 
Most  wretched  then  m}'  fate  would  be 
For  such  dishonour  shown  to  thee  : 
And  only  for  the  briefest  stay 
Would  I  within  this  grove  delay.' 

He  spoke  and  ceased.    With  pious  care 
He  turned  him  to  his  evening  prayer, 
Performed  each  customary  rite, 
And  sought  his  lodging  for  the  night, 
With  Sita  and  his  brother  laid 


1  Near  the  celebrated  Ramagiri  or 
Kama's  Hill,  now  Ram-tek,  near  Nagpore 
—the  scene  of  the  Vaksha's  exile  in  the 
Messenger  Cloud, 


1  A  hundred  A  warned  has  or  sacrifices  of 
a  horse  raise  the  sacrificer  to  the  dignity 
of  Indra. 

*  Indra. 


Canto  IX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


23? 


Beneath  the  grove's  delightful  shade, 
rirst  good  Sutikshiia,  when  he  saw 
The  shades  of  night  around  them  draw, 

With  hospitable  care 
Tie  princely  chieftains  entertained 
With  store  of  choicest  food  ordained 

For  holy  hermit's  fare. 


CANTO  VIII. 


THE  HERMITAGE. 

So  Rama  and  Sumitra's  son, 

When  every  honour  due  was  done, 

Slept  through  the  night.    When  morning 

broke, 

The  heroes  from  their  rest  awoke. 
Betimes  the  son  of  Raghu  rose, 
With  gentle  Sita.  from  repose, 
And  sipped  the  cool  delicious  wave 
Sweet  with  the  scent  the  lotus  gave, 
Then  to  the  Gods  and  sacred  flame 
The  heroes  and  the  lady  came, 
And  bent  their  heads  in  honour  meet 
Within  the  hermit's  pure  retreat. 
When  every  stain  was  purged  away, 
They  saw  the  rising  Lord  of  Day  : 
Then  to  Sutikhna's  side  they  went, 
And  softly  spoke,  most  reverent  : 

1  Well  have  we  slept,  O  holy  lord, 
Honoured  of  thee  by  all  adored  ; 
Now  leave  to  journey  forth  we  pray  : 
These  hermits  urge  us  on  our  way. 
We  haste  to  visit,  wandering  bv, 
The  ascetics'  homes  that  round  you  lie, 
And  roaming  Dandak's  mighty  wood 
To  view  each  saintly  brotherhood. 
For  thy  permission  now  we  sue, 
With  these  high  saints  to  duty  true, 
By  penance  taught  each  sense  to  tame,— 
In  lustre  like  the  smokeless  flame. 
Ere  on  our  brows  the  sun  can  beat 
With  fierce  intolerable  heat, 
Like  some  unworthy  lord  who  wins 
His  power  by  tyranny  and  sins, 
O  saint,  we  fain  would  part.'    The  three 
Bent  humbly  to  the  dovotee. 
He  raised  the  princes  as  they  pressed 
His  feet,  and  strained  them  to  his  breast ; 
And  then  the  chief  of  devotees 
Bespake  them  both  in  words  like  these  : 
'  Go  with  thy  brother,  Rama,  go, 
Pursue  thy  path  untouched  by  woe: 
Go  with  thy  faithful  Sita,  she 
Still  like  a  shadow  follows  thee. 
Roam  Dandak  wood  observing  well 
The  pleasant  homes  where  hermits  dwell, — 
Pure  saints  whose  ordered  souls  adhere 
To  penatioe  rites  and  vows  austere. 


There  plenteous  roots  and  berries  grow, 

And  noble  trees  their  blossoms  show, 

And  gentle  deer  and  birds  of  air 

In  peaceful  troops  are  gathered  there. 

There  see  the  full-blown  lotus  stud 

The  bosom  of  the  lucid  flood, 

And  watch  the  joyous  mallard  shake 

The  reeds  that  fringe  the  pool  and  lake, 

See  with  delighted  eye  the  rill 

Leap  sparkling  from  her  parent  hill, 

And  hear  the  woods  that  round  theu  lie 

Reecho  to  the  peacock's  cry. 

And  as  I  bid  thy  brother,  so, 

Sumitra's  child,  I  bid  thee  go. 

Go  forth,  these  varied  beauties  see, 

And  then  once  more  return  to  me.' 

Thus  spake  the  sage  Sutikshria  :  both 
The  chiefs  assented,  nothing  loth. 
Round  him  with  circling  steps  they  paced : 
Then  for  the  road  prepared  with  haste. 
There  Sita  stood,  the  dame  long-eyed, 
Fair  quivers  round  their  waists  she  tied, 
And  gave  each  prince  his  trust v  bow, 
And  sword  which  ne'er  a  spot  might  know. 
Each  took  his  quiver  from  her  hand. 
And  clanging  bow  and  gleaming  brand  ; 
Then  from  the  hermits'  home  the  two 
Went  forth  each  woodland  scene  to  view. 
Each  beauteous  in  the  bloom  of  age, 
Dismissed  by  that  illustrious  sage, 
With  bow  and  sword  accoutred,  hied 
Away,  and  Sita  by  their  side. 

CANTO  IX. 


SITA'S  SPEECH. 

Blest  by  the  sage,  when  Raghu's  son 
His  onward  journey  had  begun, 
Thus  in  her  soft  tone  Sita,  meek 
With  modest  fear,  began  to  speak  : 
'  One  little  slip  the  great  may  lead 
To  sharne  that  follows  lawless  deed  : 
Such  shame,  my  lord,  as  still  must  cling 
To  faults  from  low  desire  that  spring. 
Three  several  sins  defile  the  soul, 
Born  of  desire  that  spurns  control : 
First,  utterance  of  a  lying  word, 
Then,  viler  both,  the  next,  and  third : 
The  lawless  love  of  other's  wife, 
The  thirst  of  blood  uncaused  by  strife. 
The  tirsfc,  O  Raghu's  son,  in  thee 
None  yet  has  found,  none  e'er  shall  see. 
Love  of  another's  dame  destroys 
All  merit,  lost  for  guilty  joys  : 
Rama,  suoh  crime  in  thee,  I  ween, 
Eas  ne'er  been  found,  shall  ne'er  be  seen  : 
The  very  thought,  my  princely  lord, 
in  thy  secret  soul  abhorred. 


238 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool  111 


For  thou  hast  ever  been  the  same 

Fond  lover  of  thine  own  dear  dame, 

Content  with  faithful  heart  to  do 

Thy  father's  wilJ,  most  just  and  true : 

Justice,  and  faith,  arid  many  a  grace 

In  thee  have  found  a  resting-place. 

Such  virtues,  Prince,  the  gocd  may  gain 

"Who  empire  o'er  each  sense  retain  ; 

And  well  canst  thou,  \vith  loving  view 

Regarding  all,  each  sense  subdue. 

But  for  the  third,  the  lust  that  strives, 

Insatiate  still,  for  others'  lives, — 

Fond  thirst  of  blood  where  hate  is  none,— 

This,  O  my  lord,  thou  wilt  not  shun. 

Thou  hast  but  now  a  promise  made, 

The  saints  of  Danndak  wood  to  aid  ; 

And  to  protect  their  lives  from  ill 

The  giants'  blood  in  tight  wilt  spill : 

And  from  thy  promise  lasting  fame 

"Will  glorify  the  forest's  name. 

Armed  with  thy  bow  and  arrows  thou 

Forth  with  thy  brother  journeyest  now, 

While  as  I  think  how  true  thou  art 

Fears  for  thy  bliss  assail  my  heart, 

And  all  my  spirit  at  the  sight 

Is  troubled  with  a  strange  affright. 

I  like  it  not — it  seems  not  good — 

Thy  going  thus  to  Dandak  wood  : 

And  I,  if  thou  wilt  mark  me  well, 

The  reason  of  my  fear  will  tell. 

Thou  with  thy  brother,  bow  in  hand, 

Beneath  those  ancient  trees  wilt  stand, 

And  thy  keen  arrows  will  not  spare 

Wood-rovers  who  will  meet  thee  there. 

For  as  the  fuel  food  supplies 

That  bids  the  dormant  rlame  arise, 

Thus  when  the  warrior  grasps  his  bow 

He  feels  his  breast  with  ardour  glow. 

Deep  in  a  holy  grove,  of  yore, 

Where  bird  and  beast  from  strife  forbore, 

&uchi  beneath  the  sheltering  boughs, 

A  truthful  hermit,  kept  his  vows. 

Then  Indra,  £achi's  heavenly  lord, 

Armed  like  a  warrior  with  a  sword, 

Came  to  his  tranquil  home  to  spoil 

The  hermit  of  his  holy  toil, 

And  left  the  glorious  weapon  there 

Entrusted  to  the  hermit's  care, 

A  pledge  for  him  to  keep,  whose  mind 

To  fervent  zeal  was  all  resigned. 

He  took  the  brand  :  with  utmost  heed 

He  kept  it  for  the  warrior's  need  : 

To  keep  his  trust  he  fondly  strove 

When  roaming  in  the  neighbouring  grove  : 

Whene'er  for  roots  and  fruit  he  strayed 

Still  by  his  side  he  bore  the  blade  : 

Still  on  his  sacred  charge  intent, 

He  took  his  treasure  when  he  went.    * 

AM  day  by  day  that  brand  he  wore, 

The  hermit,  rich  in  merit's  store, 

From  penance  rites  each  thought  withdrew, 


And  tierce  and  wild  his  spirit  grew. 
With  heedless  soul  he  spumed  the  right, 
And  found  in  cruel  deeds  delight. 
So,  living  with  the  sword,  he  fell, 
A  ruined  hermit,  down  to  hell. 
This  tale  applies  to  those  who  deal 
Too  closely  with  the  warrior's  steel : 
The  steel  to  warriors  is  the  same 
As  fuel  to  the  smouldering  flame. 
Sincere  affection  prompts  my  speech  ; 
1  honour  where  I  fain  would  teach. 
3VJ  ayst  thou,  thus  armed  with  shaft  and  bow, 
So  dire  a  longing  never  know 
As,  when  no  hatred  prompts  the  fray, 
These  giants  of  the  wood  to  slay  : 
For  he  who  kills  without  offence 
Shall  win  but  little  glory  thence. 
The  bow  the  warrior  jovs  to  bend 
Is  lent  him  for  a  nobler  end, 
That  he  may  save  and  succour  those 
Who  watch  in  woods  when  pressed  by  foes. 
What,  matched  with  woods,  is  bow  or  steel  ? 
What,  warrior's  arm  with  hermit's  zeal  ? 
We  with  such  might  have  naught  to  do  : 
The  forest  rule  should  guide  us  too. 
But  when  Ayodhya  hails  thee  lord, 
Be  then  thy  warrior  life  restored  : 
So  shall  thy  sire  ]  and  mother  joy 
In  bliss  that  naught  may  e'er  destroy. 
And  if,  resigning  empire,  thou 
Submit  thee  to  the  hermit's  vow, 
The  noblest  gain  from  virtue  springs, 
And  virtue  joy  unending  brings. 
All  earthly  blessings  virtue  sends  : 
On  virtue  all  the  world  depends. 
Those  who  with  vow  and  fasting  tame 
To  due  restraint  the  mind  and  frame, 
Win  by  their  labour,  nobly  wise, 
The  highest  virtue  for  their  prize. 
Pure  in  the  hermit's  grove  remain, 
True  to  thy  duty,  free  from  stain. 
Hut  the  three  worlds  are  open  thrown 
To  thee,  by  whom  all  things  are  known. 
Who  gave  me  power  that  I  should  dare 
His  duty  to  my  lord  declare  ? 
'Tis  woman's  fancy,  light  as  air, 

That  moves  my  foolish  breast. 
Now  with  thy  brother  counsel  take, 
Reflect,  thy  choice  with  judgment  make, 

And  do  what  seems  the  best.' 


1  Gorresio  observes  that  Dasaratha  was 
dead  and  that  Sita  had  been  informed 
of  his  death.  In  his  translation  he 
substitutes  for  the  words  of  the  text 
'thy  relations  and  mine.'  This  is  quite 
superfluous.  Dasaratha  though  in  heaven 
still  took  a  loving  interest  in  the  fortunes 
of  his  son. 


to  XI. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


239 


CANTO  X. 


RAMA'S  REPLY. 


The  words  that  Sita  uttered,  spurred 
By  truest  love,  the  hero  heard  : 
Then  he  who  ne'er  from  virtue  strayed 
To  Janak's  child  his  answer  made: 
'  In  thy  wise  speech,  sweet  love,  I  find 
True  impress  of  thy  gentle  mind, 
Well  skilled  the  warrior's  path  to  trace, 
Thou   pride  of  Janak's  ancient  race. 
What  fitting  answer  shall  I  frame 
To  thy  good  words,  my  honoured  dame  ? 
Thou  sayst  the  warrior  hears  the  bow 
That  misery's  tears  may  cease  to  flow  ; 
And  those  pure  saints  who  love  the  shade 
Of  Dandak  wood  are  sore  dismayed. 
They  sought  me  of  their  own  accord, 
With  suppliant  prayers  my  aid  implored  : 
They,  fed  on  roots  and  fruit,  who  spend 
Their  lives  where  bosky  wilds  extend, 
.  My  timid  love,  enjoy  no  rest 
By  these  malignant  fiends  distressed. 
These  make  the  flesh  of  man  their  meat: 
The  helpless  saints  they  kill  and  eat. 
The  hermits  sought  my  side,  the  chief 
Of  Brahman  race  declared  their  grief. 
I  heard,  and  from  my  lips  there  fell 
The  words  which  thou  rememberest  well : 
I  listened  as  the  hermits  cried, 
And  to  their  prayers  I  thus  replied  : 

'  Your  favour,  gracious  lords,  I  claim, 
O'erwhelmed  with  this  enormous  shame 
That  Brahmans,  great  and  pure  as  you, 
Who  should  be  sought,  to  me  should  sue.' 
And  then  before  the  saintly  crowd, 
'  What  can  I  do  ?'  I  cried  aloud. 
Then  from  the  trembling  hermits  broke 
One  long  sad  cry,  and  thus  they  spoke : 
'  Fiends  of  the  wood,  who  wear  at  will 
Each  varied  shape,  afflict  us  still. 
To  thee  in  our  distress  we  fly : 
C)  help  us,  Rama,  or  we  die. 
When  sacred  rites  of  fire  are  due, 
When  changing  moons  are  full  or  new, 
These  fiends  who  bleeding  flesh  devour 
Assail  us  with  resistless  power. 
They  with  their  cruel  might  torment 
The  hermits  on  their  vows  intent: 
We  look  around  for  help  and  see 
Our  surest  refuge,  Prince,  in  thee. 
We,  armed  with  powers  of  penance,  might 
Destroy  the  rovers  of  the  night : 
But  loth  were  we  to  bring  to  naught 
The  merit  years  of  toil  have  bought. 
Our  penance  rites  are  grown  too  hard, 
By  many  a  check  and  trouble  barred, 
But  though  our  saints  for  food  are  slain 
The  withering  curse  we  yet  restrain. 


Thus  many  a  weary  day  distressed 
By  giants  who  this  wood  infest, 
We  see  at  length  deliverance,  thou 
With  Lakshman  art  our  guardian  now.* 

As  thus  the  troubled  hermits  prayed,' 
I  promised,  dame,  my  ready  aid, 
And  now — for  truth  I  hold  most  dear- 
Still  to  my  word  must  I  adhere. 
My  love,  1  might  endure  to  be 
Deprived  of  Lakshman,  life,  and  thee, 
But  ne'er  deny  my  promise,  ne'er 
To  Brahmans  break  the  oath  I  sware. 
I  must,  enforced  by  high  constraint, 
Protect  them  all.     Each  suffering  saint 
In  me,  unasked,  his  help  had  found  ; 
Still  more  in  one  b}7  promise  bound. 
I  know  thy  words,  mine  own  dear  dame, 
From  thy  sweet  heart's  affection  came  : 
I  thank  thee  for  thy  gentle  speech, 
For  those  we  love  are  those  we  teach. 
'Tis  like  thyself,  O  fair  of  face, 
'Tis  worthy  of  thy  noble  race  : 
Dearer  than  life,  thy  feet  are  set 
In  righteous  paths  they  ne'er  forget.' 

Thus  to  the  Maithil  monarch's  child, 
His  own  dear  wife,  in  accents  mild 

The  high-souled  hero  said  : 
Then  to  the  holy  groves  which  lay 
Beyond  them  fair  to  see,  their  way 
The  bow-armed  chieftain  led. 


CANTO  XL 


AGASTYA. 

Rama  went  foremost  of  the  three, 
Next  Sita,  followed,  fair  to  see, 
And  Lakshman  with  his  bow  in  hand 
Walked  hindmost  of  the  little  band. 
As  onward  through  the  wood  they  went, 
With  great  delight  their  eyes  were  bent 
On  rocky  heights  beside  the  way 
And  lofty  trees  with  blossoms  gay; 
And  streamlets  running  fair  and  fast 
The  royal  youths  with  Sita  passed. 
They  watched  the  saras  and  the  drake 
On  islets  of  the  stream  and  lake, 
And  gazed  delighted  on  the  floods 
Bright  with  gay  birds  and  lotus  buds. 
They  saw  in  startled  herds  the  roes, 
The  passion -frenzied  buffaloes, 
Wild  elephants  who  fiercely  tore 
The  tender  trees,  and  many  a  boar. 
A  length  of  woodland  way  they  passed, 
An<^  when  the  sun  was  low  at  last 
A  lovely  stream-fed  lake  they  spied, 
Two  leagues  across  from  side  to  side. 
Tall 'elephants  fresh  beauty  gave 
To  grassy  bank  and  lilied  wave, 


240 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  III. 


By  many  a  swan  and  saras  stirred, 
Mallard,  and  gay-winged  water-bird. 
From  those  sweet  waters,  loud  and  long, 
Though  none  was  seen  to  wake  the  song, 
Swelled  high  the  singer's  music  blent 
With  each  melodious  instrument. 
Kama  and  car- borne  Lakshman  heard 
The  charming  strain,  witli  wonder  stirred, 
Turned  on  the  margent  of  the  lake 
To  Dharmabhrit1  the  sage,  and  spake  : 

'  Our  longing  souls,  O  hermit,  burn 
This  music  of  the  lake  to  learn  : 
We  pray  thee,  noblest  sage,  explain 
*  The  cause  of  the  mysterious  strain.' 
He,  as  the  son  of  Raghu  prayed, 
With  swift  accord  his  answer  made, 
And  thus  the  hermit,  virtuous-souled, 
The  story  of  the  fair  lake  told  : 

*  Through  every  age  'tis  known  to  fame, 
Panchapsaras2  its  glorious  name, 
By  holy  Mandakarni  wrought 
With  power 'his  rites  austere  had  bought. 
For  he,  great  votarist,  intent 
On  strictest  rule  his  stern  life  spent. 
Ten  thosand  years  the  stream  his  bed, 
Ten  thousand  years  on  air  he  fed. 
Then  on  the  blessed  Gods  who  dwell 
In  heavenly  homes  great  terror  fell : 
They  gathered  all,  by  Agni  led, 
And  counselled  thus  disquieted  : 
'  The  hermit  by  ascetic  pain 
The  seat  of  one  of  us  would  gain.' 
Thus  with  their  hearts  by  fear  oppressed 
In  full  assembly  spoke  the  Blest, 
And  bade  five  loveliest  nymphs,  as  fair 
As  lightning  in  the  evening  air, 
Armed  with  their  winning  wiles,  seduce 
From  his  stern  vows  the  great  recluse. 
Though  lore  of  earth  and  heaven  he  knew, 
The  hermit  from  his  task  they  drew, 
And  made  the  great  ascetic  slave 
To  conquering  love,  the  Gods  to  save. 
Each  of  the  heavenly  five  became, 
Bound  to  the  sage,  his  wedded  dame  ; 
And  he,  for  his  beloved's  sake, 
Formed  a  fair  palace  neath  the  lake. 
Under  the  flood  the  ladies  live, 
To  joy  and  ease  their  days  they  give, 
And  lap  in  bliss  the  hermit  wooed 
From  penance  rites  to  youth  renewed. 
So  when  the  sportive  nymphs  within 
Those  secret  bowers  their  play  begin, 
You  hear  the  singers'  dulcet  tones 
Blend  sweetly  with  their  tinkling  zones.' 

*  How  wondrous  are  these  words  of  thine ! ' 
Cried  the  famed  chiefs  of  Raghu's  line, 


1  One  of  the  hermits  who  had  followed 
Rama. 

2  The  lake  of  the  five  nymphs, 


As  thus  they  heard  the  sage  unfold 
The  marvels  of  the  tale  he  told. 

As  Rama  spake,  his  eyes  were  bent 
Upon  a  hermit  settlement 
With  light  of  heavenly  lore  endued, 
With  sacred  grass  and  vesture  strewed. 
His  wife  and  brother  by  his  side, 
Within  the  holy  bounds  he  hied, 
And  there,  with  honour  entertained 
By  all  the  saints,  a  while  remained. 
In  time,  by  due  succession  led, 
Each  votary's  cot  he  visited, 
And  then  the  lord  of  martial  lore, 
Returned  where  he  had  lodged  before. 
Here  for  the  months,  content,  he  stayed, 
There  for  a  year  his  visit  paid  : 
Here  for  four  months  his  home  would  fix 
There,  as  it  chanced,  for  five  or  six. 
Here  for  eight  months  and  there  for  three 
The  son  of  Raghu's  stay  would  be  : 
Here  weeks,  there  fortnights,  more  or  less, 
He  spent  in  tranquil  happiness. 
As  there  the  hero  dwelt  at  ease 
Among  those  holy  devotees, 
In  days  untroubled  o'er  his  head 
Ten  circling  years  of  pleasure  fled. 
So  Raghu's  son  in  duty  trained 
A  while  in  every  cot  remained, 
Then  with  his  dame  retraced  the  road 
To  good  Sutikshna's  calm  abode. 
Hailed  by  the  saints  with  honours  due 
Near  to  the  hermit's  home  he  drew, 
And  there  the  tamer  of  his  foes 
Dwelt  for  a  time  in  sweet  repose. 
One  day  within  that  holy  wood 
By  saint  Sutikslma  Rama  stood, 
And  thus  the  prince  with  reverence  meek 
To  that  high  sage  began  to  speak  : 

'In  the  wide  woodlands  that  extend 
Around  us,  lord  most  reverend. 
As  frequent  voice  of  rumour  tells, 
Agastya,  saintliest  hermit,  dwells. 
So  vast  the  wood,  I  cannot  trace 
The  path  to  reach  his  dwelling  place, 
Nor,  searching  unassisted,  find 
That  hermit  of  the  thoughtful  mind, 
I  with  my  wife  and  brother  fain 
Would  go,  his  favour  to  obtain, 
Would  seek  him  in  his  lone  retreat 
And  the  great  saint  with  reverence  greet. 
This  one  desire,  0  Master,  long 
Cherished  within  my  heart,  is  strong, 
That  I  may  pay  of  free  accord 
My  duty  to  that  hermit  lord.' 

As  thus  the  prince  whose  heart  was  bent 
On  virtue  told  his  firm  intent, 
The  good  Sutikshna's  joy  rose  high, 
And  thus  in  turn  he  made  reply  : 
The  very  thing,  0  Prince,  which  thou 
Hast  sought,  1  wished  to  urge  bub  now, 
Bid  thee  with  wife  and  brother  see 


Canto  XL 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


241 


Agastya,  glorious  devotee. 

I  count  this  thing  an  omen  fair 

That  thou  shouldst  thus  thy  wish  declare, 

And  I,  my  Prince,  will  gladly  teach 

The  way  Agastya's  home  to  reach. 

Southward,  dear  son,  direct  thy  feet 

Eight  leagues  beyond  this  still  retreat : 

Agastya's  hermit  brother  there 

Dwells  in  a  home  most  bright  and  fair. 

'Tis  on  a  knoll  of  woody  ground, 

With  many  a  branching  Pippal1  crowned  : 

There  sweet  birds'  voices  ne'er  are  mute, 

And  trees  are  gay  with  flower  and  fruit. 

There  many  a  lake  gleams  bright  and  cool, 

And  lilies  deck  each  pleasant  pool, 

While  swan,  and  crane,  and  mallard's  wings 

Are  lovely  in  the  water-springs. 

There  for  one  night,  O  Rama,  stay, 

And  with  the  dawn  pursue  thy  way. 

Still  farther,  bending  southward,  by 

The  thicket's  edge  thy  course  must  lie, 

And  thou  wilt  see,  two  leagues  from  thence 

Agastya's  lovely  residence, 

Set  in  the  woodland's  fairest  spot, 

All  varied  foliage  decks  the  cot : 

There  Sita,  Lakshman  thou,  at  ease 

May  spend  sweet  hours  neath  shady  trees, 

For  all  of  noblest  growth  are  found 

Luxuriant  on  that  bosky  ground. 

If  it  be  still  thy  firm  intent 

To  see  that  saint  preeminent, 

0  mighty  counsellor,  this  day 
Depart  upon  thine  onward  way.' 

The  hermit  spake,  and  Rama  bent 
His  head,  with  Lakshman,  reverent, 
And  then  with  him  and  Janak's  child 
Set  out  to  trace  the  forest  wild. 
He  saw  dark  woods  that  fringed  the  road, 
And  distant  hills  like  clouds  that  showed, 
And,  as  the  way  he  followed,  met 
With  many  a  lake  and  rivulet. 
So  passing  on  with  ease  where  led 
The  path  Sutikshna  bade  him  tread, 
The  hero  with  exulting  breast 
His  brother  in  these  words  addressed  : 

4  Here,  surely,  is  the  home,  in  sight, 
Of  that  illustrious  anchorite  : 
Here  great  Agastya's  brother  leads 
A  life  intent  on  holy  deeds. 
Warned  of  each  guiding  mark  and  sign, 

1  see  them  all  herein  combine : 
I  see  the  branches  bending  low 
Beneath  the  flowers  and  fruit  they  show. 
A  soft  air  from  the  forest  springs, 
Fresh  from  the  odorous  grass,  and  brings 
A  spicy  fragrance  as  it  flees 

O'er  the  ripe  fruit  of  Pippal  trees. 
See,  here  and  there  around  us  high 
Piled  up  in  heaps  cleft  billets  lie, 

1  The  holy  fig-tree. 


And  holy  grass  is  gathered,  bright 

As  strips  of  shining  lazulite. 

Full  in  the  centre  of  the  shade 

The  hermits'  holy  fire  is  laid  : 

I  see  its  smoke  the  pure  heaven  streak 

Dense  as  a  big  cloud's  dusky  peak. 

The  twice-born  men  their  steps  retrace 

From  each  sequestered  bathing-place, 

And  each  his  sacred  gift  has  brought 

Of  blossoms  which  his  hands  have  sought. 

Of  all  these  signs,  dear  brother,  each 

Agrees  with  good  butikshna's  speech, 

And  doubtless  in  this  holy  bound 

Agastya's  brother  will  be  found. 

Agastya  once,  the  worlds  who  viewed 

With  love,  a  Deathlike  fiend  subdued, 

And  armed  with  mighty  power,  obtained 

By  holy  works,  this  grove  ordained 

To  be  a  refuge  and  defence 

From  all  oppressors'  violence. 

In  days  of  yore  within  this  place 

Two  brothers  tierce  of  demon  race, 

Vatapi  dire  and  llval,  dwelt, 

And  slaughter  mid  the  Brahmans  dealt. 

A  Brahman's  form,  the  fiend  to  cloak, 

Fierce  llval  wore,  and  Sanskrit  spoke, 

And  twice-born  sages  would  invite 

To  solemnize  some  funeral  rite. 

His  brother's  flesh,  concealed  within. 

A  ram's  false  shape  and  borrowed  skin,— 

As  men  are  wont  at  funeral  feasts, — 

He  dressed,  and  fed  those  gathered  priests. 

The  holy  men,  unweeting  ill, 

Took  of  the  food  and  ate  their  till. 

Then  llval  with  a  mighty  shout 

Exclaimed  '  Vatapi,  issue  out.' 

Soon  as  his  brother's  voice  he  heard, 

The  fiend  with  ram-like  bleating  stirred  : 

Rending  in  pieces  every  frame, 

Forth  from  the  dying  priests  he  came. 

So  they  who  changed  their  forms  at  will 

Thousands  of  Brahmans  dared  to  kill,— 

Fierce  fiends  who  loved  each  cruel  deed, 

And  joyed  on  bleeding  flesh  to  feed. 

Agastya,  mighty  hermit,  pressed 

To  funeral  banquet  like  the  rest, 

Obedient  to  the  Gods'  appeal 

Ate  up  the  monster  at  a  meal. 

'  'Tis  done,  'tis  done,'  fierce  llval  cried, 

And  water  for  his  hands  supplied: 

Then  lifting  up  his  voice  he  spake  : 

'  Forth,  brother,  from  thy  prison  break.' 

Then  him  who  called  the  fiend,  who  long 

Had    wrought   the   suffering    Brahmaus 

wrong, 

Thus  though tful-souled  Agastya,  best 
Of  hermits,  with  a  smile  addressed  : 
'  How,  Kakshas,  is  the  fiend  empowered 
To  issue  forth  whom  I  devoured  ? 
Thy  brother  in  a  ram's  disguise 
Is  gone  where  Yama's  kingdom  lies.' 


242 


TH& 


Hook  HI. 


When  from  the  words  Agastya  said 
He  knew  his  brother  fiend  was  dead, 
His  soul  on  fire  with  vengeful  rage, 
Hushed  the  night-rover  at  the  sage. 
One  lightning  glance  of  fury,  hot 
As  fire,  the  glorious  hermit  shot, 
As  the  fiend  neared  him  in  his  stride, 
And  straight,  consumed  to  dust,  he  died. 
In  pity  for  the  Brabmans'  plight 
Agastya  wrought  this  deed  of  might  : 
This  grove  which  lakes  and  fair  trees  grace 
In  his  great  brother's  dwelling  place. 

As  Kama  thus  the  tale  rehearsed, 
And  with  Sumatra's  son  conversed, 
The  setting  sun  his  last  rays  shed, 
And  evening  o'er  the  land  was  spread. 
A  while  the  princely  brothers  stayed 
And  even  rites  in  order  paid, 
Then  to  the  holy  grove  they  drew 
And  hailed  the  saint  with  honour  due. 
With  courtesy  was  Kama  met 
By  that  illustrious  anchoret, 
And  for  one  night  he  rested  there 
Regaled  with  fruit  and  hermit  fare. 
But  when  the  night  had  reached  its  close, 
And  the  sun's  glorious  circle  rose, 
The  son  of  Raghu  left  his  bed 
And  tothe  hermit's  brother  said: 
'  Well  rested  in  thy  hermit  cell, 
I  stand,  0  saint,  to  bid  farewell ; 
For  with  thy  leave  I  journey  hence 
Thy  broher  saint  to  reverence.' 
'Go,  Rama  go,'  the  sage  replied  : 
Then  from  the  cot  the  chieftain  hied, 
And  while  the  pleasant  grove  he  viewed, 
The  path  the  hermit  showed,  pursued. 
Of  every  leaf,  of  changing  hue. 
Plants,  trees  by  hundreds  round  him  grew, 
With  joyous  eyes  he  looked  on  all, 
Then  Jak,1  the  wild  rice,  and  Sal  ;2 
He  saw  the  red  Hibiscus  glow, 
He  saw  the  flower-tipped  creeper  throw 
The  glory  of  her  clusters  o'er 
Tall  trees  that  loads  of  blossom  bore. 
Some,  elephants  had  prostrate  laid, 
In  some  the  monkeys  leapt  and  played, 
And  through  the  whole  wide  forest  rang 
The  charm  of  gay  birds  as  they  sang. 
Then  Rama  of  the  lotus  eye 
To  Lakshman  turned  who  followed  nigh, 
And  thus  the  hero  youth  impressed 
With  Fortune's  favouring  signs, addressed: 

'  How  soft  the  leaves  of  every  tree, 
How  tame  each  bird  and  beast  we  see  ! 
Soon  the  fair  home  shall  we  behold 
Of  that  great  hermit  tranquil-souled. 
The  deed  the  good  Agastya  wrought 

1  The  bread-fruit  tree,  Artocarpus  inte- 
grifolia. 
*  A  fine  timber  tree,  Shorea  robusta. 


High   fame  throughout   the  world   has 

bought : 

I  see,  I  see  his  calm  retreat 
That  balms  the  pain  of  weary  feet. 
Where    white   clouds    rise    from    flames 

beneath, 

Where  bark-Coats  lie  with  many  a  wreath, 
Where  silvan  things,  made  gentle,  throng, 
And  every  bird  is  loud  in  song. 
With  ruth  for  suffering  creatures  filled, 
A  deathlike  fiend  with  might  he  killed, 
And  gave  this  southern  realm  to  be 
A  refuge,  from  oppression  free. 
There  stands  his  home,  whose  dreaded 

might 

Has  put  the  giant  crew  to  flight, 
Who  view  with  envious  eyes  afar 
The  peaceful  shades  they  cannot  mar. 
Since  that  most  holy  saint  has  made 
His  dwelling  in  this  lovely  shade. 
Checked  by  his  might  the  giant  brood 
Have  dwelt  in  peace,  with  souls  subdued. 
And  all  this  southern  realm,  within 
Whose  bounds  no  fiend  may  entrance  win, 
Now  bears  a  name  which  naught  may  dim, 
Made  glorious  through  the  worlds  by  him. 
When  Vindhya,  best  of  hills,  would  stay 
The  journey  of  the  Lord  of  Day, 
Obedient  to  the  saint's  behest 
He  bowed  for  aye  his  humbled  crest. 
That  hoary  hermit,  world-renowned 
For  holy  deeds,  within  this  ground 
Has  set'his  pure  and  blessed  home, 
Where  gentle  silvan  creatures  roam. 
Agastya,  whom  the  worlds  revere, 
Pure  saint  to  whom  the  good  are  dear, 
To  us  his  guests  all  grace  will  show, 
Enriched  with  blessings  ere  we  go. 
I. to  this  aim  each  thought  will  turn, 
The  favour  of  the  saint  to  earn, 
That  here  in  comfort  may  be  spent 
The  last  years  of  our  banishment. 
Here  sanctities  and  high  saints  stand, 
Gods,  minstrels  of  the  heavenly  band ; 
Upon  Agastya's  will  they  wait, 
And  serve  him,  pure  and  temperate. 
The  liar's  tongue,  the  tyrant's  mind 
Within  these  bounds  no  home  may  find: 
No  cheat,  no  sinner  here  can  be: 
So  holy  and  so  good  is  he. 
i  Here  birds  and  lords  of  serpent  race, 
i  Spirits  and  Gods  who  haunt  the  place, 
Content  with  scanty  fare  remain, 
As  merit's  meed  they  strive  to  gain. 
Made  perfect  here,  the  saints  supreme, 
On  cars  that  mock  the  Day-God's  glearn,— 
Their  mortal  bodies  cast  aside,— 
Sought  heaven  transformed  and  glorified. 
Here  Gods  to  living  things,  who  win. 
Their  favour,  pure  from  cruel  sin, 
Give  royal  rule  and  many  a  good, 


Canto  XII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


243 


Immortal  life  and  spirithood. 

Now,  Lakshman,  we  are  near  the  place  : 

Do  ttiou  precede  a  little  space, 

And  tell  the  mighty  saint  that  I 

With  Sita  at  my  side  am  nigh.' 

CANTO  XII. 


THE  HEAVENLY  BOW. 

He  spoke ;  the  younger  prince  obeyed : 
Within  the  bounds  his  way  he  made, 
And  thus  addressed,  whom  first  he  met, 
A  pupil  of  the  anchoret  : 

'Brave  Rama,  eldest  born,  who  springs 
From  Dasaratha,  hither  brings 
His  wife  the  lady  Sita ;  he 
Would  fain  the  holy  hermit  see. 
Lakshman  am  I — if  happy  fame 
E'er  to  thine  ears  has  brought  the  name— 
His  younger  brother,  prompt  to  do 
His  will,  devoted,  fond,  and  true. 
We,  through  our  royal  sire's  decree, 
To  the  dread  woods  were  forced  to  flee. 
Tell  the  great  Master,  I  entreat, 
Our  earnest  wish  our  lord  to  greet.' 

He  spoke  :  the  hermit  rich  in  store 
Of  fervid  zeal  and  sacred  lore, 
Sought  the  pure  shrine  which  held  the  fire, 
To  bear  his  message  to  the  sire. 
Soon  as  he  reached  the  saint  most  bright 
In  sanctity's  surpassing  might, 
He  cried,  uplifting  reverent  hands  : 
'  Lord  Rama  near  thy  cottage  stands.' 
Then  spoke  Agastva's  pupil  dear 
The  message  for  his  lord  to  hear  : 
'  Rama  and  Lakshman,  chiefs  who  spring 
From  Dasaratha,  glorious  king, 
Thy  hermitage  e'en  now  have  sought, 
And  lady  Sita,  with  them  brought. 
The  tamers  of  the  foe  are  here 
To  see  thee,  Master,  and  revere. 
'Tis  thine  thy  further  will  to  say  :    ' 
Deign  to  command,  and  we  obey.' 
•    When  from  his  pupil's  lips  he  knew 
The  presence  of  the  princely  two. 
And  Sita  born  to  fortune  high, 
The  glorious  hermit  made  reply: 
'  Great  joy  at  last  is  mine  this  day 
That  Rama  hither  finds  his  way, 
For  long  my  soul  has  yearned  to  see 
The  prince  who  comes  to  visit  me. 
Go  forth,  go  forth,  and  hither  bring 
The  royal  three  with  welcoming : 
Lead  Rama  in  and  place  him  near  : 
Why  stands  he  not  already  here  ? ' 

Thus  ordered  by  the  hermit,  who, 
Lord  of  his  thoughts,  all  duty  knew, 
His  reverent  hands  together  laid, 
The  pupil  answered  and  obeyed. 
Forth  from  the  place  with  speed  he  ran, 


To  Lakshman  came  and  thus  began  : 
'  Where  is  he'?  let  not  Rama  wait, 
But  speed,  the  sage  to  venerate.' 

Then  with  the  pupil  Lakshman  went 
Across  the  hermit  settlement, 
And  showed  him  .Rama  where  he  stood 
With  Janak's  daughter  in  the  wood. 
The  pupil  then  his  message  spake 
Which  the  kind  hermit  bade  him  take. ; 
Then  led  the  honoured  Rama  thence 
And  brought  him  in  with  reverence, 
As  nigh  the  royal  Rama  came 
With  Lakshman  and  the  Maithil  dame, 
He  viewed  the  herds  of  gentle  deer 
Roaming  the  garden  free  from  fear. 
As  through  the  sacred  grove  he  trod 
He  viewed  the  seat  of  many  a  God, 
Brahm£  and  Agni,1  Sun  and  Moon, 
And  His  who  sends  each  golden  boon  ;2 
Here  Vishnu's  stood,  there  Bhaga's3  shrine, 
And  there  Mahendra's,  Lord  divine  ; 
Here  His  who  formed  this  earthly  frame,4 
His  there  from  whom  all  beings  came.5 
Vtiyu's,6  and  His  who  loves  to  hold 
The  great  noose,  Vanm?  mighty-souled  : 
Here  was  the  Vasus'8  shrine  to  see, 
Here  that  of  sacred  Gayatri,9 
The  king  of  serpents10  here  had  place, 
And  he  who  rules  the  feathered  race.1 1 
Here  Kartikeya,1  *  warrior  lord, 
And  there  was  Justice'  -King  adored. 
Then  with  disciples  girt  about 
The  mighty  saint  himself  came  out : 
Through  fierce  devotion  bright  as  tlame 
Before  the  rest  the  Master  came  : 
And  then  to  Lakshman,  fortune -blest, 
Rama  these  hasty  words  addressed  : 
'  Behold,  Agastya's  self  draws  near, 
The  mighty  saint  whom  all  revere  ; 
With  spirit  raised  I  meet  my  lord 
With  richest  wealth  of  penance  stored.' 

The  strong-armed  hero  spake,  and  ran 
Forward  to  meet  the  sunbright  man. 
Before  him,  as  he  came,  he  bent 
And  clasped  his  feet  most  reverent, 
Then  rearing  up  his  stately  height 
Stood  suppliant  by  the  anchorite, 
While  Lakshman's strength  and  Sitas  grace 
Stood  by  the  pride  of  Raghu's  race. 

1  The  God  of  fire. 

2  Kuvera,  the  God  of  riches. 

3  The  Sun.      4  Brahma,  the  creator, 
a  £iva.        6  The  Wind-God. 

7  The  God  of  the  sea. 

8  A  class  of  demi-gods,  eight  in  number. 

9  The  holiest  text  of  the  Vedas,  deified. 
10  Vasuki.        n  Garud. 

J*  The  War-God, 


244 


THE  HAM  A  YAN. 


Book  III. 


The  sage  his  arms  round  Rama  threw 

And  welcomed  him  with  honours  due, 

Asked,  was  all  well,  with  question  sweet, 

And  bade  the  hero  to  a  seat. 

With  holy  oil  he  fed  the  flame, 

He  brought  the  gifts  which  strangers  claim, 

And  kindly  waiting  on  the  three 

With  honours  due  to  high  degree, 

He  gave  with  hospitable  care 

A  simple  hermit's  woodland  fare. 

Then  sat  the  reverend  father,  first 

Of  hermits,  deep  in  duty  yersed, 

And  thus  to  suppliant  Rama,  bred 

In  all  the  lore  of  virtue,  said  : 

*Did  the  false  hermit,  Prince,  neglect 

To  hail  his  guest  with  due  respect, 

He  must,— the  doom  the  perjured  meet,— 

His  proper  flesh  hereafter  eat. 

A  car-borne  king,  a  lord  who  sways 

The  earth,  and  virtue's  law  obeys, 

'Worthy  of  highest  honour,  thou 

Hast  sought,  dear  guest,  my  cottage  now.' 

He  spoke  :  with  fruit  and  hermit  fare, 

With  every  bloom  the  branches  bare, 

Agastya  graced  his  honoured  guest, 

And  thus  with  gentle  words  addressed  : 

'  Accept  this  mighty  bow,  divine, 

Whereon  red  gold  and  diamonds  shine  ; 

'Twas  by  the  Heavenly  Artist  planned 

For  Vishnu's  own  almighty  hand  ; 

This  God-sent  shaft  of  sun  bright  hue, 

Whose  deadly  flight  is  ever  true, 

By  Lord  Mahendra  given  of  yore  : 

This  quiver  with  its  endless  store, 

Keen  arrows  hurtling  to  their  aim 

Like  kindled  fires  that  flash  and  flame  : 

Accept,  in  golden  sheath  encased, 

This  sword  with  hilt  of  rich  gold  graced. 

Armed,  whilom,  with  this  best  of  bows 

Lord  Vishnu  slew  his  demon  foes, 

And  mid  the  dwellers  in  the  skies 

Won  brilliant  glory  for  his  prize. 

The  bow,  the  quivers,  shaft,  and  sword 

Received  from  me,  O  giorious  lord  : 

These  conquest  to  thine  arm  shall  bring, 

As  thunder  to  the  thunder's  King.' 

The  splendid  hermit  bade  him  take 
The  noble  weapons  as  he  spake, 
And  as  the  prince  accepted  each 
lu  words  like  these  renewed  his  speech  : 

CANTO  XIII. 


AGASTYA'S  COUNSEL. 

*  O  Rdma,  great  delight  I  feel, 

Pleased,  Lakshman,  with  thy  faithful  zeal, 

That  you  within  these  shades  I  see 

With  Sita  come  to  honour  me. 

But  wandering  through  the  rough  rude  wild 


Has  wearied  Janak's  gentle  child: 
With  labours  of  the  way  oppressed 
The  Maithil  lady  longs  for  rest. 
Young,  delicate,  and  soft,  and  fair, 
Such  toils  as  these  untrained  to  bear, 
Her  wifely  love  the  dame  has  led 
The  forest's  troubled  ways  to  tread. 
Here,  Rama,  see  that  naught  annoy 
Her  easy  hours  of  tranquil  joy  : 
A  glorious  task  has  she  assayed, 
To  follow  thee  through  woodland  shade. 
Since  first  from  Nature's  hand  she  came, 
A  woman's  mood  is  still  the  same, 
When  Fortune  smiles,  her  love  to  show, 
And  leave  her  lord  in  want  and  woe. 
No  pity  then  her  heart  can  feel, 
She  arms  her  soul  with  warrior's  steel, 
Swift  as  the  storm  or  Feathered  King, 
Uncertain  as  the  lightning's  wing. 
Not  so  thy  spouse :  her  purer  mind 
Shrinks  from  the  faults  of  womaukind  ; 
Like  chaste  Arundhati1  above, 
A  paragon  of  faithful  love. 
Let  these  blest  shades,  dear  Rama,  be 
A  home  for  Lakshman,  her,  and  thee.7 

With  raised  hands  reverently  meek 
He  heard  the  holy  hermit  speak, 
And  humbly  thus  addressed  the  sire 
Whose  glory  shone  like  kindled  tire: 

*  How  blest  am  I,  what  thanks  I  owe 
That  our  great  Master  deigns  to  show 
His  favour,  that  his  heart  can  be 
Content  with  Lakshman,  Sita,  me. 
Show  me,  I  pray,  some  spot  of  ground 
Where    thick    trees    wave    and    springs 

abound, 

That  I  may  raise  my  hermit  cell 
And  there  in  tranquil  pleasure  dwell.' 

Then  thus  replied  Agastya,  best 
Of  hermits,  to  the  chief's  request : 
When  for  a  little  he  had  bent 
His  thoughts,  upon  that  prayer  intent: 

'Beloved  son,  four  leagues  away 
Is  Panchavati  bright  and  gay  : 
Thronged  with  its  deer,  most  fair  it  looks 
With  berries,  fruit,  and  water-brooks. 
There  build  thee  with  thy  brother's  aid 
A  cottage  in  the  quiet  shade, 
And  faithful  to  thy  sire's  behest, 
Obedient  to  the  sentence,  rest. 
For  well,  O  sinless  chieftain,  well 
I  know  thy  tale,  how  all  befell : 
Stern  penance  and  the  love  I  bore 
Thy  royal  sire  supply  the  lore. 
To  me  long  rites  and  fervid  zeal 
The  wish  that  stirs  thy  heart  reveal, 
And  hence  my  guest  1  bade  thee  be, 
That  this  pure  grove  might  shelter  thee. 


1  One  of  the  Pleiades  generally  regard- 
ed as  the  inodd  of  wifely  excellence. 


Canto  XIV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


245 


So  now,  thereafter,  thus  I  speak  : 
The  shades  of  Panchavati  seek; 
That  tranquil  spot  is  bright  and  fair, 
And  Sit&  will  be  happy  there. 
Not  far  remote  from  here  it  lies, 
A  grove  to  charm  thy  loving  eyes. 
Godavari's  pure  stream  is  nigh  : 
There  Sita's  days  will  sweetly  fly. 
Pure,  lovely,  rich  in  many  a  charm, 
O  hero  of  the  mighty  arm, 
'Tis  gay  with  every  plant  and  fruit, 
And  throngs  of  gay  birds  never  mute. 
Thou,  true  to  \irtue's  path,  hast  might 
To  screen  each  trusting  anchorite, 
And  wilt  from  thy  new  home  defend 
The  hermits  who  on  thee  depend. 
ISow  yonder,  Prince,  direct  thine  eyes 
Where  dense  Madhuka1  woods  arise: 
Pierce  their  dark  shade,  and  issuing  forth 
Turn  to  a  fig-tree  on  the  north  : 
Then  onward  up  a  sloping  mead 
Flanked  by  a  hill  the  way  will  lead  : 
There  Panchavati,  ever  gay 
With  ceaseless  bloom,  thy  steps  will  stay.' 

The  hermit  ceased  :  the  princely  two 
With  seemly  honours  bade  adieu  : 
With  reverential  awe  each  youth 
Bowed  to  the  saint  whose  word  was  truth, 
And  then,  dismissed  with  Sita,  they 
To  Panchavati  took  their  way. 
Thus  when  each  royal  prince  had  grasped 
His  warrior's  mighty  bow,  and  clasped 

His  quiver  to  his  side, 
With  watchful  eyes  along  the  road 
The  glorious  saint  Agastya  showed, 
Dauntless  in  right  the  brothers  strode, 

Aud  Sita  with  them  hied, 


CANTO  XIV. 


JATAYUS. 

Then  as  the  son  of  Raghu  made 
"is  way  to  Panchavati's  shade, 
mighty  vulture  he  beheld 
f  size  and  strength  unparalleled. 
The  princes,  when  the  bird  they  saw, 
Approached  with  reverence  and  awe, 
And  as  his  giant  form  they  eyed, 
*  Tell  who  thou  art,'  in  wonder  cried. 
The  bird,  as  though  their  hearts  to  gain, 
Addressed  them  thus  in  gentlest  strain  : 
'  In  me,  dear  sons,  the  friend  behold 
Your  royal  father  loved  of  old.' 

He  spoke  :  nor  long  did  Rama  wait 
His  sire's  dear  friend  to  venerate  : 


1  The  Madhuka,  or,  as  it  is  now  called, 
Mahuwa,  is  the  Bassia  latifolia,  a  tree 
from  whose  blossoms  a  spirit  is  extracted, 


He  bade  the  bird  declare  his  name 
And  the  high  race  of  which  he  came. 
When  Raghu's  son  had  spoken,  he 
Declared  his  name  and  pedigree, 
His  words  prolonging  to  disclose 
How  all  the  things  that  be  arose  : 

'List  while  J  tell,  O  Kaghu's  son, 
The  first-born  Fathers,  one  by  one, 
Great  Lords  of  Life,  whence  all  in  earth 
And  all  in  heaven  derive  their  birth. 
First  Kardam  heads  the  glorious  race 
Where  Vikrit  holds  the  second  place, 
With  Sesba,  Sansray  next  in  line, 
And  Bahuputra's  might  divine. 
Then  Sthanu  and  Marichi  came, 
Atri,  and  Kratu's  forceful  frame. 
Pulastya  followed,  next  to  him 
AngiraV  name  shall  ne'er  be  dim. 
Prachetas,  Pulah  next,  and  then 
Daksha,  Vivasvat  praised  of  men  : 
Arishtanemi  next,  and  last 
Kasyap  in  glory  unsurpassed. 
From  Daksha,— fame  the  tale  has  told—  : 
Three-score  bright  daughters  sprang  of  old 
Of  these  fair-waisted  nymphs  the  great 
Lord  Kasyap  sought  and  wedded  eight, 
Aditi,  Diti,  KaJaka, 
Tamra,  Danu,  and  Anald, 
And  Krodhavasa  swift  to  ire, 
And  Manu'  glorious  as  her  sire. 
Then  when  tiie  mighty  Kasyap  cried 
Delighted  to  each  tender  bride  : 
'Sons  shalt  thou  bear,  to  rule  the  three 
Great  worlds,  in  might  resembling  me,' 


1  '  I  should  have  doubted  whether  IV!  anu 
could  have  been  the  right  reading  here, 
but  that  it  occurs  again  in  verse  29,  where 
it  is  in  like  manner  followed  in  verse  31 
by  Anala,  so  that  it  would  certainly  seem 
that  the  name  Manu  is  intended  to  stand 
for  a  female,  the  daughter  of  Daksha. 
The  Gauda  recension,  followed  by  Signer 
Gorresio  (III  20,  12),  adopts  an  entirely 
different  reading  at  the  end  of  the  line, 
viz.  Baldm  Atibaldm  api,  "Bala  and 
Atibila,"  instead  of  Manu  and  Anald. 
I  see  that  Professor  Roth  s.  v.  adduces  the 
authority  of  the  Amara  Kosha  and  of  the 
Commentator  on  Panini  for  stating  that 
the  word  sometimes  means  "  the  wife  of 
Manu."  In  the  following  text  of  the 
Mahabharata  1.  2553,  also,  Manu  appears 
to  be  the  name  of  a  female  :  Anavadydm^ 
Manum,  Vansdm,  Asurdm,  Mdrganapri- 
yam,  Anupdm*)  Subhagdm,  Bhdswi  iti 
'Prddhdvyajdyata\\  "Pradha  (daughter 
of  Daksha)  bore  Anavadya,  Manu,  Vansa, 
Marganapriya,  Anupa,  Subhaga,  and 
Bhasi." '  Muir's  Sanskrit  Text,  Vol.  I.  p, 
116. 


246 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  III. 


Aditi,  D«ti,andDauti 

Obeyed  his  will  as  consorts  true, 

And  Kalaka  ;  but  all  the  rest 

Kef  used  to  hear  their  lord's  behest. 

First  Aditi  conceived,  and  she, 

Mother  of  thirty  Gods  and  three, 

The  Vasus  and  Adityas  bare, 

Rudras,  and  Asvins,  heavenly  pair. 

Of  Diti  sprang  the  Daityas  :  fame 

Delights  to  laud  their  ancient  name. 

In  days  of  yore  their  empire  dread 

O'er  earth  and  woods  and  ocean  spread. 

Danu  was  mother  of  a  child, 

O  hero,  Aivagriva  styled, 

And  Narak  next  and  Kalak  came 

Of  Kalaka,  celestial  dame. 

Of  Tamra,  too,  five  daughters  bright 

In  deathless  glory  sprang  to  light. 

Ennobling  fame  still  keeps  alive 

The  titles  of  the  lovely  five  : 

Immortal  honour  still  she  claims 

For  Krauncbi,  Bhasi,  $yeni's  names, 

And  wills  not  that  the  world  forget 

6uki  or  Dhritarashtri  yet. 

Then  Kraunchi  bare  the  crane  and  owl, 

And  Bhasi  tribes  of  water  fowl : 

Vultures  and  hawks  that  race  through  air 

With  storm-fleet  pinions  &yeni  bare, 

All  swans  and  geese  on  mere  and  brook 

Their  birth  from  Dhritarashtri  took, 

And  all  the  river-haunting  brood 

Of  ducks,  a  countless  multitude. 

From  Suki  Nala  sprang,  who  bare 

Dame  Vinata  surpassing  fair. 

From  fiery  Krodhavasa  ten 

Bright  daughters  sprang,  O  King  of  men: 

Mrigi  and  Mrigarnanda  named, 

Hari  and  Bhadramada  famed, 

£arduli,  Sveta  fair  to  see, 

Matangi  bright,  and  iSurabhi, 

Surasa  marked  with  each  fair  sign, 

And  Kadruma,  all  maids  divine. 

Mrigi,  O  Prince  without  a  peer, 

Was  mother  of  the  herds  of  deer. 

The  bear,  the  Yak,  the  mountain  roe 

Their  birth  to  Mrigarnanda  owe  ; 

And  Bhadramada  joyed  to  be 

Mother  of  fair  Iravati, 

Who  bare  Airavat,1  huge  of  mould, 

Mid  warders  of  the  earth, enrolled. 

From  Hari  lordly  lions  trace, 

With  monkeys  of  the  wild,  their  race. 

From  the  great  dame  £arduli  styled 

Sprang  pards,  Langurs,2  and  tigers  wild. 

Matangi,  Prince,  gave  birth  to  all 

Matangas,  elephants  strong  and  tall, 

1  The  elephant  of  Indra. 

'J  Goldngulas,  described  as  a  kind  of 
monkey,  of  a  black  colour,  and  having  a 
tail  like  a  cow. 


And  £veta  bore  the  beasts  who  stand 

One  at  each  wind,  earth's  warder  band.1 

Next  Surabhi  the  Goddess  bore 

Two  heavenly  maids,  O  Prince,  of  yore, 

Gandharvi — dear  to  fame  is  she — 

And  her  sweet  sister  Rohini. 

With  kine  this  daughter  filled  each  mead, 

And  bright  Gandharvi  bore  the  steed.2 

Surasa  bore  the  serpents  :3  all 

The  snakes  Kadru  their  mother  call. 

Then  Manu,  high-souled  Kasyap's4  wife, 

To  all  the  race  of  men  gave  life, 

The  Brahmans  first,  the  Kshatriya  caste, 

Then  Vaisyas,  and  the  oftdras  last. 

Sprang  from  her  mouth  the  Brahman  race  j 

Her  chest  the  Kshatriyas'  natal  placs  : 

The  Vaisyas  from  her  thighs,  'tis  said, 

The  Rudras  from  her  feet  were  bred. 

From  Anala  all  trees  that  hang 

Their  fair  fruit-laden  branches  sprang. 

The  child  of  beauteous  Suki  bore 

Vinata,  as  I  taught  before  : 

And  Surasa  and  Kadru  were 

Born  of  one  dame,  a  noble  pair. 

Kadru  gave  birth  to  countless  snakes 

That  roam  the  earth  in  woods  and  brakes. 

Arun  and  Garud  swift  of  flight 

By  Vinata  were  given  to  light, 

And  sons  of  Arun  red  as  morn 

Sampati  first,  then  I  was  born, 

Me  then,  O  tamer  of  the  foe, 

Jatayus,  son  of  Syeni,  know. 

Thy  ready  helper  will  I  be, 

And  guard  thy  house,  if  thou  agree: 

When  thou  and  Lakshman  urge  the  chase 

By  Sita's  side  shall  be  my' place.' 

With  courteous  thanks  for  promised  aid, 
The  prince,  to  rapture  stirred, 

Bent  low,  and  due  obeisance  paid, 
Embraced  the  royal  bird. 


1  Eight  elephants  attached  to  the  four 
quarters  and  intermediate  points  of  the 
compass,  to  support  and  guard  the  earth. 

2  Some  scholars  identify  the  centaurs 
with  the  Gandharvas. 

3  The  hooded  serpents,  says  the  com- 
mentator   Tirtha,   were   the  offspring   of 
Surasa  :  all  others  of  Kadru. 

4  '  The  text  reads  Kasyapa,  "  a  descend- 
ant of  Kasyapa,"  who  according  to  Bam. 
II.  10,  6,  ought  to  be  Vivasvat.    But  as  it 
is  stated  in  the  preceding  part  of   this 
passage  III.  14,  11  f.  that  Manu  was  one 
of  Kasyapa's  eight  wives,  we  must  here 
read    Kasyapa.     The    Gauda    recension 
reads  (III.  20,  80)  Manur  manushydms  clta 
tathd  janaydmdsa  Edghava,  instead   <>f 
the  corresponding  line  in  the  Bombay  exU- 
tion,'  Muir's  Sanskrit  Text,  Vol.  l.p-  U7, 


Canto  XV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


247 


He  often  in  the  days  gone  by 

Had  heard  his  father  tell 
How,  linked  with  him  in  friendship's  tie, 

He  loved  Jatayus  well. 
He  hastened  to  his  trusted  friend 

His  darling  to  confide, 
And  through  the  wood  his  steps  to  bend 

By  strong  Jatayus'  side. 
On  to  the  grove,  with  Lakshman  near, 

The  prince  his  way  pursued, 
To  free  those  pleasant  shades  from  fear 

And  slay  the  giant  brood, 


CANTO  XV. 


PANCHAVATT. 


Arrived  at  Panchavati's  shade 
Where  silvan  life  and  serpents  strayed, 
Rama  in  words  like  these  addressed 
Lakshman  of  vigour  unrepressed  : 

*  Brother,  our  home  is  here  :  behold 
The  grove  of  which  the  hermit  told  : 
The  bowers  of  Panchavati  see 
Made  fair  by  every  blooming  tree. 
Now,  brother,  bend  thine  eyes  around  ; 
With  skilful  glance  survey  the  ground  : 
Here  be  some  spot  selected,  best 
Approved  for  gentle  hermits1  rest, 
Where  thou,  the  Maithil  dame,  and  I 
May  dwell  while  seasons  sweetly  fly. 
Some  pleasant  spot  be  chosen  where 
Pure  waters  gleam  and  trees  are  fair, 
Some  nook  where  flowers  and  wood  are 

found 
And  sacred  grass  and  springs  abound.1 

Then  Lakshman,  Sita,  standing  by, 
Raised  "reverent  hands,  and  made  reply  : 

'A  hundred  years  shall  flee,  and  still 
Will  I  obey  my  brother's  will : 
Select  thyself  a  pleasant  spot ; 
Be  mine  the  care  to  rear  the  cot.' 
The  glorious  chieftain,  pleased  to  hear 
That  loving  speech  that  soothed  his  ear, 
Selected  with  observant  care 
A  spot  with  every  charm  most  fair. 
He  stood  within  that  calm  retreat, 
A  shade  for  hermits'  home  most  meet, 
And  thus  Sumitra's  son  addressed, 
While  his  dear  hand  in  his  he  pressed  : 

'  See,  see  this  smooth  and  lovely  glade 
Which  flowery  trees  encircling  shade: 
Do  thou,  beloved  Lakshman  rear 
A  pleasant  cot  to  lodge  us  here. 
I  see  byond  that  feathery  brake 
The  gleaming  of  a  lilied  lake, 
Where  flowers  in  sunlike  glory  throw 
Fresh  odours  from  the  wave  below. 
Agastya's  words  now  find  we  true, 
He  told  the  charms  which  here  we  view  : 
17 


Here  are  the  trees  that  blossom  o'er 
Godavari's  most  lovely  shore. 
Whose  pleasant  flood  from  side  to  side 
With  swans  and  geese  is  beautified, 
And  fair  banks  crowded  with  the  deer 
That  steal  from  every  covert  near. 
The  peacock's  cry  is  loud  and  shrill 
From  many  a  tall  and  lovely  hill, 
Green- belted  by  the  trees  that  wave 
Full  blossoms  o'er  the  rock  and  cave. 
Like  elephants  whose  huge  fronts  glow 
With  painted  streaks,  the  mountains  show 
Long  lines  of  gold  and  silver  sheen 
With  copper's  darker  hues  between. 
With  every  tree  each  hill  is  graced, 
Where  creepers  blossom  interlaced. 
Look  where  the  Sal's  long  branches  sway, 
And  palms  their  fanlike  leaves  display  ; 
The  date-tree  and  the  Jak  are  near, 
And  their  long  stems  Tamalas  rear. 
See  the  tall  Mango  lift  his  head, 
Asokas  all  their  glory  spread, 
The  Ketak  her  sweet  buds  unfold, 
And  Champacs  hang  their  cups  of  gold.1 
The  spot  is  pure  and  pleasant :  here 
Are  multitudes  of  birds  and  deer. 
O  Lakshman,  with  our  father's  friend 
What  happy  hours  we  here  shall  spend !' 
He  spoke:  the  conquering  Lakshman 

heard, 

Obedient  to  his  brother's  word. 
Raised  by  his  toil  a  cottage  stood 
To  shelter  Rama  in  the  wood. 
Of  ample  size,  with  leaves  o'erlaid, 
Of  hardened  earth  the  walls  were  made. 
The  strong  bamboos  his  hands  had  felled 
For  pillars  fair  the  roof  upheld, 
And  rafter,  beam,  and  lath  supplied 
Well  interwrought  from  side  to  side. 
Then  Sami*  boughs  he  deftly  spread 
Enlaced  with  knotted  cord  o'erhead, 
Well  thatched  above  from  ridge  to  eaves 
With  holy  grass,  and  reed,  and  leaves. 
The  mighty  chief  with  careful  toil 
Had  cleared  the  ground  and  smoothed 
the  soil 


1  The  original  verses  merely  name  the 
trees.  I  have  been  obliged  to  amplify 
slightly  and  to  omit  some  quas  versa 
dicere  non  est ;  e.  g.  the  tinisa  (Dalbergia 
ougeiniensis),  punndga  (Rottleria  tinc- 
toria)  tilaka  (not  named),  syandana  (Dal- 
bergia  ougeiniensis  again)  vandana  (un- 
known) nip  a  (Nauclea  Kadamba)  lakucha 
(Artoearpus  jacucha),  dhava  (Grislea  to- 
mentosa)  ,Asvakarna  (another  name  for 
the  Sal),  Sami  (Acacia  Suma)  khadira 
(Mimosa  catechu)  kintuka  (Butea frondosa) 
pdtala  (Bignonia  suaveolens). 

*  Acacia  Suma. 


248 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  III. 


Where  now,  his  loving  labour  done, 
Rose  a  fair  home  for  Raghu's  son. 
Then  when  his  work  was  duly  wrought, 
Godavaris  sweet  stream  he  sought, 
Bathed,  plucked  the  lilies,  and  a  store 
Of  fruit  and  berries  homeward  bore. 
Then  sacrifice  he  duly  paid, 
And  wooed  the  Gods  their  hopes  to  aid, 
And  then  to  Rama  proudly  showed 
The  cot  prepared  for  his  abode. 
Then  Raghu's  son  with  Sita  gazed 
Upon  the  home  his  hands  had  raised, 
And  transport  thrilled  his  bosom  through 
His  leafy  hermitage  to  view. 
The  glorious  son  of  Kaghu  round 
His  brother's  neck  his  arms  en  wound, 
And  thus  began  his  sweet  address 
Of  deep-felt  joy  and  gentleness  : 
*  Well  pleased  am  I,  dear  lord,  to  see 
This  noble  work  performed  by  thee. 
For  this. — sole  grace  I  can  bestow, — • 
About  thy  neck  mine  arms  I  throw. 
So  wise  art  thou,  thy  breast  is  filled 
With  grateful  thoughts,  in  duty  skilled, 
Our  mighty  father,  free  from  stain, 
In  thee,  his  offspring,  lives  again.' 

Thus  spoke  the  prince,  who  lent  a  grace 
To  fortune,  pride  of  Raghu's  race  ; 
Then  in  that  spot  whose  pleasant  shade 
Gave  store  of  fruit,  content  he  stayed. 
With  Lakshman  and  his  Maithil  spouse 
He  spent  his  days  neath  sheltering  boughs, 
As  happy  as  a  God  on  high 
Lives  in  his  mansion  in  the  sky. 


CANTO  XVI. 


WINTER. 

While  there  the  high-souled  hero  spent 
His  tranquil  hours  in  sweet  content, 
The  glowing  autumn  passed,  and  then 
Came  winter  so  beloved  of  men. 

One  morn,  to  bathe,  at  break  of  day 
To  the  fair  stream  he  took  his  way. 
Behind  him,  with  the  Maithil  dame 
Bearing  a  pitcher  Lakshman  came, 
And  as  he  went  the  mighty  man 
Thus  to  his  brother  chief  began: 

'The  time  is  come,  to  thee  more  dear 
Than  all  the  months  that  mark  the  year  ; 
The  gracious  seasons'  joy  and  pride, 
By  which  the  rest  are  glorified. 
A  robe  of  hoary  rime  is  spread 
O'er  earth,  with  corn  engarlanded. 
The  streams  we  loved  no  longer  please, 
But  near  the  fire  we  take  our  ease. 
Now  pious  men  to  God  and  shade 
Offer  young  corn's  fresh  sprouted  blade, 
Aud  purge  away  their  sins  with  rice 


Bestowed  in  humble  sacrifice. 

Rich  stores  of  milk  delight  the  swain, 

And  hearts  are  cheered  that  longed  for 

gain. 
Proud  kings  whose  breasts  for  conquests 

flow 
bannered  troops  to  smite  the  foe. 
Dark  is  the  north:  the  Lord  of  Day 
To  Yama's  south1  has  turned  away  : 
And  she — sad  widow— shines  no  more, 
Reft  of  the  bridal  mark'-4  she  wore, 
Himalaya's  hill,  ordained  of  old 
The  treasure-house  of  frost  and  cold, 
Scarce  conscious  of  the  feebler  glow, 
Is  truly  now  the  Lord  of  Snow. 
Warmed  by  the  noontide's  genial  rays 
Delightful  are  the  glorious  days : 
But  how  we  shudder  at  the  chill 
Of  evening  shadows  and  the  rill ! 
How  weak  the  sun,  how  cold  the  breeze  ! 
How  white  the  rime  on  grass  and  trees ! 
The  leaves  are  sere,  the  woods  have  lost 
Their  blossoms  killed  by  nipping  frost. 
Neath  open  skies  we  sleep  no  more  : 
December's  nights  with  rime  are  hoar  : 
Their  triple  watch  3  in  length  extends 
With  hours  the  shortened  daylight  lends. 
No  more  the  moon's  sun-borrowed  rays 
Are  bright,  involved  in  misty  haze, 
As  when  upon  the  mirror's  sheen 
The  breath's  obscuring  cloud  is  seen, 
E'en  at  the  full  the  faint  beams  fail 
To  struggle  through  the  darksome  veil  : 
Changed  like  her  hue.  they  want  the  grace 
That  parts  not  yet  from  iSita's  face. 
Cold  is  the  western  wind,  but  how 
Its  piercing  chill  is  heightened  now, 
Blowing  at  early  morning  twice 
As  furious  with  its  breath  of  ice  ! 
See  how  the  dewy  tears  they  weep 
The  barley,  wheat,  and  woodland  steep, 
Where,  as  the  sun  goes  up  the  sky, 
The  curlew  and  the  saras  cry, 
See  where  the  rice  plants  scarce  uphold 
Their  full  ears  tinged  with  paly  gold, 
Bending  their  ripe  heads  slowly  down 
Fair  as  the  date  tree's  flowery  crown. 
Though  now  the  sun  has  mounted  high 
Seeking  the  forehead  of  the  sky, 
Such  mist  obscures  his  struggling  beams, 
No  bigger  than  the  moon  he  seems. 
Though  weak  at  first,  his  rays  at  length 
Grow  pleasant  in  their  noonday  strength, 
And  where  a  while  they  chance  to  fall 
Fling  a  faint  splendour  over  all. 


1  The  south  is  supposed  to  be  the  resi- 
dence of  the  departed. 

*  The  sun. 

3  The  night  is  divided  into  three  watches 
of  four  hours  each. 


Canto  XV II. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


249 


See,  o'er  the  woods  where  grass  is  wet 
With  hoary  drops  that  cling  there  yet, 
With  soft  light  clothing  earth  and  bough 
There  steals  a  tender  glory  now. 
Yon  elephant  who  longs  to  drink, 
Still  standing  on  the  river's  brink, 
Plucks  back  his  trunk  in  shivering  haste 
From  the  cold  wave  he  fain  would  taste. 
The  very  fowl  that  haunt  the  mere 
Stand  doubtful  on  the  bank,  and  fear 
To  dip  them  in  the  wintry  wave 
As  cowards  dread  to  meet  the  brave. 
The  frost  of  night,  the  rime  of  dawn 
Bind  flowerless  trees  and  glades  of  lawn  : 
Benumbed  in  apathetic  chill 
Of  icy  chains  they  slumber  still. 
You  hear  the  hidden  saras  cry 
From  floods  that  wrapped  in  vapour  lie, 
And  frosty-shining  sands  reveal 
Where  the  unnoticed  rivers  steal. 
The  hoary  rime  of  dewy  night, 
And  suns  that  glow  with  tempered  light 
Lend  fresh  cool  flavours  to  the  rill 
That  sparkles  from  the  tompost  hill. 
The  cold  has  killed  the  lily's  pride: 
Leaf,  filament,  and  flower  have  died  : 
With   chilling  breath  rude   winds  have 

blown, 

The  withered  stalk  is  left  alone. 
At  this  gay  time,  O  noble.st  chief, 
The  faithful  Bharat,  worn  by  grief, 
Lives  in  the  royal  town  where  he 
Spends  weary  hours  for  love  of  thee. 
From  titles,  honour,  kingl}r  sway, 
From  every  joy  he  turns  away  : 
Couched  on  cold  earth,  his  days  are  passed 
With  scanty  fare  and  hermit's  fast. 
This  moment  from  his  humble  bed 
He  lifts,  perhaps,  his  weary  head, 
And  girt  by  many  a  follower  goes 
To  bathe  where  silver  Sarju  flows. 
How,  when  the  frosty  morn  is  dim, 
Shall  Sarju  be  a  bath  for  him 
Nursed  with  all  love  and  tender  care, 
So  delicate  and  young  and  fair  ? 
How  bright  his  hue  I  his  brilliant  eye 
With  the  broad  lotus  leaf  may  vie. 
By  fortune  stamped  for  happy  fate, 
His  graceful  form  is  tall  and  straight. 
In  duty  skilled,  his  words  are  truth  : 
He  proudly  rules  each  lust  of  youth. 
Though  his  strong  arm  smites  down  the  foe, 
In  gentle  speech  his  accents  flow. 
Yet  every  joy  has  he  resigned 
And  cleaves  to  thee  with  heart  and  mind. 
Thus  by  the  deeds  that  he  has  done 
A  home  in  heaven  has  Bharat  won, 
For  in  his  life  he  follows  yet 
Thy  steps,  O  banished  anchoret. 
Thus  faithful  Bharat,  nobly  wise, 
The  proverb  of  the  world  belies  : 


1  ISTo  men,  by  mothers'  guidance  led, 
The  footsteps  of  their  fathers  tread.' 
How  could  Kaikeyi,  blest  to  be 
Spouse  of  the  king  our  sire,  and  see 
A  son  like  virtuous  Bharat,  blot 
Her  glory  with  so  foul  a  plot  1 ' 

Thus  in  fraternal  love  he  spoke, 
And  from  his  lips  reproaches  broke : 
But  Rama  grieved  to  hear  him  chide 
The  absent  mother,  and  replied  : 

*  Cease,  0  beloved,  cease  to  blame 
Our  royal  father's  second  dame. 
Still  speak  of  Bharat  first  in  place 
Of  old  Ikshvaku's  princely  race. 
My  heart,  so  firmly  bent  but  now 
To  dwell  in  woods  and  keep  my  vow, 
Half  melting  as  I  hear  thee  speak 
Of  Bharat's  love,  grows  soft  and  weak, 
With  tender  joy  I  bring  to  mind 
His  speeches  ever  sweet  and  kind, 
That  dear  as  Amrit  took  the  sense 
With  most  enchanting  influence. 
Ah.  when  shall  I,  no  more  to  parfc, 
Meet  Bharat  of  the  mighty  heart? 
When,  O  iny  brother,  when  shall  we 

The  good  and  brave   Satrughna  see  /  * 

Thus  as  he  poured  his  fond  lament 

The  son  of  Raghu  onward  went : 

They  reached  the  river,  and  the  three 

Bathed  them  in  fair  Godavari. 

Libations  of  the  stream  they  paid 

To  every  deity  and  shade, 

With  hymns  of  praise,  the  Sun  on  high 

And  sinless  Gods  to  glorify. 

Fresh  from  the  purifying  tide 
Resplendent  Rama  came, 

With  Lakshman  ever  by  his  side, 
And  the  sweet  Maithil  dame. 

So  Rudra  shines  by  worlds  adored, 
In  glory  undefiled, 

When  Nandi1  stands  beside  his  lord, 

And  King  Himalaya's  child.1 

CANTO  XVII. 


The  bathing  and  the  prayer  were  o'er: 
3e  turned  him  from  the  grassy  shore, 
And  with  his  brother  and  his  spouse 
Sought  his  fair  home  beneath  the  bough*, 
Sita  and  Lakshman  by  his  side, 
)n  to  his  cot  the  hero  hied, 
And  after  rites  at  morning  due 
Within  the  leafy  shade  withdrew. 


1  The  chief  chamberlain  and  attendant 
>f  Siva  or  Rudra. 

2  Uma  or  Parvati,  the  consort  of  &va. 


250 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


Boole  III. 


Then,  honoured  by  the  devotees, 
As  royal  Rama  sat  at  ease, 
With  Sita  near  him,  o'er  his  head 
A  canopy  of  green  boughs  spread, 
He  shone  as  shines  the  Lord  of  Night 
By  Chitra's  l  side,  his  dear  delight. 
With  Lakshman  there  he  sat  and  told 
Sweet  stories  of 'the  days  of  old, 
And  as  the  pleasant  time  he  spent 
With  heart  upon  each  tale  intent, 
A  giantess,  by  fancy  led, 
Came  wandering  to  his  leafy  shed. 
Fierce  £urpanakha, — her  of  yore 
The  Ten-necked  tyrant's  mother  bore,— 
Saw  Rama  with  his  noble  mien 
Bright  as  the  Gods  in  heaven  are  seen; 
Him  from  whose  brow  a  glory  gleamed, 
Like  lotus  leaves  his  full  eyes  beamed : 
Long-armed,  of  elephantine  gait, 
With  hair  close  coiled  in  hermit  plait: 
In  youthful  vigour,  nobly  framed, 
By  glorious  marks  a  king  proclaimed  : 
Like  some  bright  lotus  lustrous-hued, 
With  young  Kandarpa's  '  grace  endued: 
As  there  like  Indra's  self  he  shone, 
She  loved  the  youth  she  gazed  upon. 
She  grim  of  eye  and  foul  of  face 
Loved  his  sweet  glance  and  forehead's 

grace : 

She  of  unlovely  figure,  him 
Of  stately  form  and  shapely  limb  : 
She  whose  dim  locks  disordered  hung, 
Him  whose  bright  hair  on  high  brows 

clung  : 

She  whose  fierce  accents  counselled  fear, 
Him  whose  soft  tones  were  sweet  to  hear; 
She  whose  dire  form  with  age  was  dried, 
Him  radiant  in  his  youthful  pride: 
She  whose  false  lips  maintained  the  wrong, 
Him  in  the  words  of  virtue  strong : 
She  cruel-hearted,  stained  with  sin, 
Him  just  in  deed  and  pure  within  : 
She,  hideous  fiend,  a  thing  to  hate, 
Him  formed  each  eye  to  captivate  : 
Fierce  passion  in  her  bosom  woke, 
And  thus  to  Raghu's  son  she  spoke  : 

'  With  matted  hair  above  thy  brows, 
With  bow  and  shaft  and  this  thy  spouse, 
How  hast  thou  sought  in  hermit  dress 
The  giant-haunted  wilderness  ? 
What  dost  thou  here  ?  The  cause  explain: 
Why  art  thou  come,  and  what  to  gain  ? ' 
As  §urpanakha  questioned  so, 
Rama,  the  terror  of  the  foe, 
In  answer  to  the  monster's  call, 
With  fearless  candour  told  her  all. 


A  star,  one  of  the  favourites  of  the 
on. 
l  The  God  of  love. 


King  Dasaratha  reigned  of  old, 
Like  Gods  celestial  brave  and  bold. 
I  am  his  eldest  son  and  heir, 
And  Rama  is  the  name  I  bear. 
This  brother,  Lakshman,  younger  born, 
Most  faithful  love  to  me  has  sworn. 
My  wife,  this  princess,  dear  to  fame, 
Is' Sita  the  Videhan  dame. 
Obedient  to  my  sire's  behest 
And  by  the  queen  my  mother  pressed, 
To  keep  the  law  and  merit  win, 
I  sought  this  wood  to  harbour  in. 
But  speak,  for  I  of  thee  in  turn 
Thy  name,  and  race,  and  sire  would  learn. 
Thou  art  of  giant  race,  I  ween, 
Changing  at  will  thy  form  and  mien. 
Speak  truly,  and  the  cause  declare 
That  bids  thee  to  these  shades  repair.' 
Thus  Rama  spoke  :  the  demon  heard, 
And  thus  replied  by  passion  spurred  : 
'  Of  giant  race,  what  form  soe'er 
My  fancy  wills;  'tis  mine  to  wear. 
Named   Siirpanakha  here  I  stray, 
And  where  I  walk  spread  wild  dismay. 
King  Ravan  is  my  brother  :  fame 
Has  taught  perchance  his  dreaded  name. 
Strong  Kumbhakarna  slumbering  deep 
In  chains  of  never-ending  sleep  : 
Vibhishan  of  the  duteous  mind, 
In  needs  unlike  his  giant  kind  : 
Dushan  and  Khara,  brave  and  bold 
Whose  fame  by  every  tongue  is  told  : 
Their  might  by  mine  is  far  surpassed; 
But  when,  O  best  of  men,  I  cast 
These  fond  eyes  on  thy  form,  I  see 
My  chosen  love  and  lord  in  thee. 
Endowed  with  wondrous  might  am  I : 
Where'er  my  fancy  leads  I  fly. 
The  poor  misshapen  Sita.leave, 
And  me,  thy  worthier  bride  receive. 
Look  on  my  beauty,  and  prefer 
A  spouse  more  meet  than  one  like  her: 
I'll  eat  that  ill-formed  woman  there  : 
Thy  brother  too  her  fate  shall  share. 
But  come,  beloved;  thou  shalt  roam 
With  me  through  all  our  woodland  home: 
Each  varied  grove  with  me  shalt  seek, 
And  gaze  upon  each  mountain  peak.' 

As  thus  she  spoke,  the  monster  gazed 
With  sparkling  eyes  where  passion  blazed: 
Then  he,  in  lore  of  language  learned, 
This  answer  eloquent  returned ; 


CANTO   XVIII. 


THE  MUTILATION. 

On  her  ensnared  in  Kama's  net 
His  eyes  the  royal  Rama  set, 


Canto  XIX. 


THE  RAMAYAN, 


251 


And  thus,  her  passion  to  beguile, 
Addressed  her  with  a  gentle  smile  : 

'  I  have  a  wife :  behold  her  here, 
My  Sita  ever  true  and  dear  : 
And  one  like  thee  will  never  brook 
Upon  a  rival  spouse  to  look. 
But  there  my  brother  Laksbmatt  stands  i 
Unchained  is  he  by  nuptial  bands : 
A  youth  heroic*  loved  of  all, 
Gracious  and  gallant,  fair  and  tall. 
With  winning  looks,  most  nobly  bred, 
Unmatched  till  now,  he  longs  to  wed. 
Meet  to  enjoy  thy  youthful  charms, 
O  take  him  to  thy  loving  arms. 
Enamoured  on  his  bosom  lie, 
Fair  damsel  of  the  radiant  eye, 
As  the  warm  sunlight  loves  to  rest 
Upon  her  darling  Meru's  breast.' 

The  hero  spoke,  the  monster  heard, 
While  passion  still  her  bosom  stirred. 
Away  from  llama's  side  she  broke, 
And  thus  in  turn  to  Lakshman  spoke: 
Come,  for  thy  bride  take  me  who  shine 
In  fairest  grace  that  suits  with  thine. 
Thou  by  my  side  from  grove  to  grove 
Of  Dandak's  wild  in  bliss  shalt  rove.' 

Then  Lakshmao,  skilled  in  soft  address, 
Wooed  by  the  amorous  giantess, 
With  art  to  turn  her  love  aside, 
To  Surpanakhi  thus  replied : 

'  And  can  so  high  a  dame  agree 
The  slave-wife  of  a  slave  to  be  ? 
I,  lotus-hued  !  in  good  and  ill 
Am  bondsman  to  my  brother's  will. 
Be  thou,  fair  creature  radiant- eyed, 
My  honoured  brother's  younger  bride  : 
With  faultless  tint  and  dainty  limb, 
A  happy  wife,  bring  joy  to  him. 
He  from  his  spouse  grown  old  and  grey, 
Deformed,  untrue,  will  turn  away, 
Her  withered  charms  will  gladly  leave, 
And  to  his  fair  young  darling  cleave. 
For  who  could  be  so  fond  and  blind, 
O  loveliest  of  all  female  kind, 
To  love  another  dame  and  slight 
Thy  beauties  rich  in  all  delight  ? ' 

Thus  Lakshman  praised  in  scornful  jest 
The  long-toothed  liend  with  loathly  breast, 
Who  fondly  heard  his  speech,  nor  knew 
His  mocking  words  were  aught  but  true. 
Again  inflamed  with  love  she  fled 
To  Rama,  in  his  leafy  shed 
Where  Sita  rested  by  his  side, 
And  to  the  mighty  victor  cried: 

'  What,  Rama,  canst  thou  blindly  cling 
To  this  old  false  misshapen  thing  ? 
Wilt  thou  refuse  the  charms  of  youth 
For  withered  breast  and  grinning  tooth  1 
Canst  thou  this  wretched  creature  prize 
And  look  on  me  with  scornful  eyes'/ 
This  aged  crone  this  very  hour 


Before  thy  face  will  I  devour  : 
Then  joyous,  from  all  rivals  free, 
Through  Dandak  will  I  stray  with  thee.1 

She  spoke,  "and  with  a  glance  of  flame 
Rushed  on  the  fawn-eyed  Maithil  dame:  \ 
So  would  a  horrid  meteor  mar 
Fair  Rohini's  soft  beaming  star. 
But  as  the  furious  fiend  drew  near, 
Like  Death's  dire  noose  which  chills  with 

fear, 

The  mighty  chief  her  purpose  stayed, 
And  spoke,  his  brother  to  upbraid  : 
'  Ne'er  should  we  just  with  creatures  rude, 
Of  savage  race  and  wrathful  mood. 
Think,  Lakshman,  think  how  nearly  slain 
My  dear  Videhari  breathes  again. 
Let  not  the  hideous  wretch  escape 
Without  a  mark  to  mar  her  shape. 
Strike,  lord  of  men,  the  monstrous  fiend, 
Deformed,  and  foul,  and  evil-miened.' 

He  spoke  :  then  Lakshman's  wrath  rose 

high, 

And  there  before  his  brother's  eye, 
He  drew  that  sword  which  none  could  stay, 
And  cleft  her  nose  and  ears  away. 
Noseless  and  earless,  torn  and  maimed, 
With  fearful  shrieks  the  fiend  exclaimed, 
And  frantic  in  her  wild  distress 
Besought  the  distant  wilderness. 
Deformed,  terrific,  huge,  and  dread, 
As  on  she  moved,  her  gashes  bled, 
And  groan  succeeded  groan  as  loud 
As  roars,  ere  rain,  the  thunder  cloud. 
Still  on  the  fearful  monster  passed, 
While  streams  of  blood  kept  falling  fast, 
And  with  a  roar,  and  arms  outspread 
Within  the  boundless  wood  she  fled. 
To  Janasthan  the  monster  flew ; 

Fierce  Khara  there  she  found, 
With  chieftains  of  the  giant  crew 

In  thousands  ranged  around. 
Before  his  awful  feet  she  bent 

And  fell  with  piercing  cries, 
As  when  a  bolt  in  swift  descent 

Comes  flashing  from  the  skies. 
There  for  a  while  with  senses  dazed 

Silent  she  lay  and  scared  : 
At  length  her  drooping  head  she  raised. 

And  all  the  tale  declared, 
How  Rama,  Lakshman,  and  the  dame 

Had  reached  that  lonely  place : 
Then  told  her  injuries  and  shame, 

And  showed  her  bleeding  face. 

CANTO  XIX. 


THE  ROOSING  OF  KHARA. 


When  Khara  saw  his  sister  lie 

With  blood-stained  limbs  and  troubled  eye, 


252 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boolt  III. 


Wild  fury  in  his  bosom  woke, 

And  thus  the  monstrous  giant  spoke ; 

'  Arise,  my  sister  ;  cast  away 
This  numbing  terror  and  dismay, 
And  straight  the  impious  hand  declare 
That  marred  those  features  once  so  fair. 
For  who  his  finger  tip  will  lay 
On  the  black  snake  in  childish  play, 
And  unattacked,  with  idle  stroke 
His  poison-laden  fang  provoke  ? 
Ill-fated  fool,  he  little  knows 
Death's  noose  around  his  neck  he  throws, 
Who  rashly  met  thee,  and  a  draught 
Of  life-destroying  poison  quaffed. 
Strong,  fierce  as  death,  'tw  as  thi  ne  to  choose 
Thy  way  at  will,  each  shape  to  use  ; 
In  power  and  might  like  one  of  us  : 
What  hand  has  maimed  and  marred  thee 

thus  ? 

What  God  or  fiend  this  deed  has  wrought, 
What  bard  or  sage  of  lofty  thought 
Was  armed  with  power  supremely  great 
Thy  form  to  mar  and  mutilate  ? 
In  all  the  worlds  not  one  I  see 
Would  dare  a  deed  to  anger  me  : 
Not  Indra's  self,  the  Thousand-eyed, 
Beneath  whose  hand  fierce  Paka1  died. 
My  life-destroying  darts  this  day 
His  guilty  breath  shall  rend  away, 
E'en  as  the  thirsty  wild  swan  drains 
Each  milk-drop  that  the  wave  retains. 
Whose  blood  in  foaming  streams  shall  burst 
O'er  the  dry  ground  which  lies  at  hirst, 
When  by  my  shafts  transfixed  and  slain 
He  falls  upon  the  battle  plain  ? 
From  whose  dead  corpse  shall  birds  of  air 
The  mangled  flesh  and  sinews  tear, 
And  in  their  gory  feast  delight, 
When  I  have  slain. him  in  the  fight? 
Not  God  or  bard  or  wandering  ghost, 
No  giant  of  our  mighty  host 
Shall  step  between  us,  or  avail 
To  save  the  wretch  when  I  assail. 
Collect  each  scattered  sense,  recall 
Thy  troubled  thoughts,  and  tell  me  all. 
What  wretch  attacked  thee  in  the  way, 
And  quelled  thee  in  victorious  fray  ?' 

His  breast  with  burning  fury  fired, 
Thus  Khara  of  the  fiend  inquired  : 
And  then  with  many  a  tear  and  sigh 
Thus  ^urpanakha  made  reply  : 
'  'Tis  Dasaratha's  sons,  a  pair 
Strong,  resolute,  and  young,  and  fair: 
In  coats  of  dark  and  blackdeer's  hide, 
And  like  the  radiant  lotus  eyed  : 
On  berries  roots  and  fruit  they  feed, 
And  lives  of  saintly  virtue  lead  : 
With  ordered  senses  undefiled, 
Kama  and  Lakshman  are  they  styled. 


A  demon  slain  by  ludra. 


Fair  as  the  Minstrels'  King1  are  they, 
And  stamped  with  signs  of  regal  sway. 
I  know  not  if  the  heroes  trace 
Their  line  from  Gods  or  Danav55  race. 
There  by  these  wondering  eyes  between 
The  noble  youths  a  dame  was  seen, 
Fair,  blooming,  young,  with  dainty  waist, 
And  all  her  bright  apparel  graced. 
For  her  with  ready  heart  and  mind 
The  royal  pair  their  strength  combined, 
And  brought  me  to  this  last  distress, 
Like  some  lost  woman,  comfortless. 
Perfidious  wretch!  my  soul  is  fain 
Her  foaming  blood  and  theirs  to  drain. 
O  let  me  head  the  vengeful  fight, 
And  with  this  hand  my  murderers  smite. 
Come,  brother,  hasten  to  fulfil 
This  longing  of  my  eager  will. 
On  to  the  battle  !  Let  me  drink 
Their  lifeblood  as  to  earth  they  sink.' 

Then  Khara,  by  his  sister  pressed, 
Inflamed  with  fury,  gave  his  nest 
To  twice  seven  giants  of  his  crew, 
Fierce  as  the  God  of  death  to  view  : 

'Two  men  equipped  with  arms,  who  wear 
Deerskin  and  bark  and  matted  hair, 
Leading  a  beauteous  dame,  have  strayed 
To  the  wild  gloom  of  Dandak's  shade. 
These  men,  this  cursed  woman  slay, 
And  hasten  back  without  delay, 
That  this  my  sister's  lips  may  be 
Red  with  the  Jifeblood  of  the  three. 
Giants,  my  wounded  sister  longs 
To  take  this  vengeance  for  her  wrongs. 
With  speed  her  dearest  wish  fulfil, 
And  with  your  might  these  creatures  kill. 
Soon  as  your  matchless  strength  shall  lay 
These  brothers  dead  in  battle  fray, 
She  in  triumphant  joy  will  laugh, 
And  their  hearts'  blood  delighted  quaff.' 

The  giants  heard  the  words  he  said, 
And  forth  with  Surpanakha  sped, 
As  mighty  clouds  in  autumn  fly 
Urged  by  the  wind  along  the  sky. 

CANTO  XX. 


THE  GIANTS'  DEATH. 

Fierce  Surpanakha  with  her  train 
To  Rama's  dwelling  came  again, 
And  to  the  eager  giants  showed 
Where  Sita  and  the  youths  abode. 
Within  the  leafy  cot  they  spied 
The  hero  by  his  consort's  side, 
And  faithful  Lakshman  ready  still 
To  wait  upon  his  brother's  will. 

1  Chitraratha,  King  of  the  Gaudharvas. 
3  Titanic. 


Canto  XXL 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


253 


Then  noble  Rama  raised  his  eye 
And  saw  the  giants  standing  nigh, 
And  tiien,  as  nearer  still  they  pressed. 
His  glorious  brother  thus  addressed, 
'  Be  thine  a  while,  my  brother  dear, 
To  watch  o'er  Pita's  safety  here, 
And  1  will  slay  these  creatures  who 
The  footsteps  of  my  spouse  pursue.' 

He  spoke,  and  reverent  Lakshmau  heard 
Submissive  to  his  brother's  word. 
3'he  son  of  Raghu,  virtuous-souled, 
Strung  his  great  bow  adorned  with  gold, 
And,  with  the  weapon  in  his  hand, 
Addressed  him  to  the  giant  band  : 
4  Rama  and  Lakshman  we,  who  spring 
From  Dasaratha,  mighty  king  ; 
We  dwell  a  while  with  S'ita  here 
In  Uandak  forest  wild  and  drear. 
On  woodland  roots  and  fruit  we  feed, 
And  lives  of  strictest  rule  we  lead. 
Say  why  would  ye  our  lives  oppress 
Who  sojourn  in  the  wilderness. 
Sent  hither  by  the  hermits'  prayer 
With  bow  and  darts  unused  to  spare, 
For  vengeance  am  I  come  to  slay 
Your  sinful  band  in  battle  fray. 
Rest  as  ye  are  :  remain  content, 
Nor  try  the  battle's  dire  event. 
Unless  your  offered  lives  ye  spurn, 

0  rovers  of  the  night,  return.' 

They  listened  wnile  the  hero  spoke, 
Arid  fury  in  each  breast  awoke. 
The  Brahman-slayers  raised  on  high 
Their  mighty  spears  and  made  reply  : 
They  spoke  with  eyes  aglow  with  ire, 
While  Rama's  burnt  with  vengeful  lire, 
And  answered  thus,  in  fury  wild, 
That  peerless  chief  whose  tones  were  mild: 

•  Nay  thou  hast  angered,  overbold, 
Khara  our  lord,  the  mighty- souled, 
And  for  thy  sin,  in  battle  strife 
Shalt  yield  to  us  thy  forfeit  life. 
Mo  power  hast  thou  alone  to  stand 
Against  the  numbers  of  our  band. 
'Twere  vain  to  match  thy  single  might 
Against  us  in  the  front  of  right. 
W  hen  we  equipped  for  fight  advance 
With  brandished  pike  and  mace  and  lance, 
Thou,  vanquished  in  the  desperate  field, 
Ihy^bow,  thy  strength,  thy  life  shalt  yield.1 

With  bitter  words  and  threatening  mien 

1  hus  furious  spoke  the  fierce  fourteen, 
And  raising  scymitar  and  spear 

On  Rama  rushed  in  wild  career. 
Their  levelled  spears  the  giant  crew 
Against  the  matchless  hero  threw. 
His  bow  the  son  of  Raghu  bent, 
And  twice  seven  shafts  to  meet  them  sent, 
-  And  every  javelin  sundered  fell 
By  the  bright  darts  he  aimed. so  well. 
The  hero  saw  :  his  auger  grew 


To  fury :  from  his  side  he  drew 

Fresh  sunbright  arrows  pointed  keen, 

In  number,  like  his  foes,  fourteen. 

His  bow  he  grasped,  the  string  he  drew, 

And  gazing  on  the  giant  crew, 

As  Indra  casts  the  levin,  so 

8hot  forth  his  arrrows  at  the  foe. 

The  hurtling  arrows,  stained  with  gore, 

Through  the  fiends'  breasts  a  passage  tore, 

And  in  the  earth  lay  buried  deep 

As  serpents  through  an  ant-hill  creep. 

Like  trees  up  torn  by  stormy  blast 

The  shattered  fiends  to  earth  were  cast, 

And  there  with  mangled  bodies  they, 

Bathed  in  their  blood  and  breathless,  lay. 

With  fainting  heart  and  furious  eye 
The  demon  saw  her  champions  die. 
With  drying  wounds  that  scarcely  bled 
Back  to  her  brother's  home  she  fled. 
Oppressed  with  pain,  with  loud  lament 
At  Khara's  feet  the  monster  bent. 
There  like  a  plant  whence  slowly  come 
The  trickling  drops  of  oozy  gum, 
With  her  grim  features  pale  with  pain 
She  poured  her  tears  in  ceaseless  rain. 
There  routed  Surpanakha  lay, 

And  told  her  brother  all, 
The  issue  of  the  bloody  fray, 

Her  giant  champions'  fall. 

CANTO  XXL 
THE  ROUSING  OF  KHARA. 

Low  in  the  dust  he  saw  her  lie, 
And  Khara's  wrath  grew  fierce  and  high, 
Aloud  he  cried  to  her  who  came 
Disgracefully  with  baffled  aim  : 
'  I  sent  with  thee  at  thy  request 
The  bravest  of  my  giants,  best 
Of  all  who  feed  upon  the  slain  : 
Why  art  thou  weeping  here  again? 
Still  to  their  master's  interest  true, 
My  faithful,  noble,  loyal  crew, 
Though  slaughtered  in  the  bloody  fray, 
Would  yet  their  monarch's  word  obey. 
Now  I,  my  sister,  fain  would  know 
The  cause  of  this  thy  fear  and  woe, 
Why  like  a  snake  thou  writhest  there, 
Calling  for  aid  in  wild  despair. 
Nay,  lie  not  thus  in  lowly  guise : 
Oast  off  thy  weakness  and  arise  !' 

With  soothing  words  the  giant  chief 
Assuaged  the  fury  of  her  grief. 
Her  weeping  eyes  she  slowly  dried 
And  to  her  brother  thus  replied  : 
'  I  sought  thee  in  my  shame  and  fear 
With  severed  nose  and  mangled  ear  : 
My  gashes  like  a  river  bled, 
I  bought  thee  and  was  comforted. 


254 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool  III. 


Those  twice  seven  giants,  brave  and  strong, 
Thou  sentest  to  avenge  the  wrong, 
To  lay  the  savage  Rama  low, 
And  Lakshman  who  misused  me  so. 
But  ah,  the  shafts  of  Rama  through 
The  bodies  of  my  champions  flew : 
Though  madly  tierce  their  spears  they  plied, 
Beneath  his  conquering  might  they  died. 
I  saw  them,  famed  for  strength  and  speed, 
I  saw  my  herpes  fall  and  bleed  : 
Great  trembling  seized  my  every  limb 
At  the  great  deed  achieved  by  him. 
]n  trouble,  horror,  doubt,  and  dread, 
Again  to  thee  for  help  I  fled. 
"While  terror  haunts  my  troubled  sight, 
I  seek  thee,  rover  of  the  night. 
And  canst  thou  not  thy  sister  free 
From  this  wide  waste  of  troublous  sea 
Whose  sharks  are  doubt  and  terror,  where 
Each  wreathing  wave  is  dark  despair? 
Low  lie  on  earth  thy  giant  train 
By  ruthless  Kama's  arrows  slain, 
And  all  the  mighty  demons,  fed 
On  blood,  who  followed  me  are  dead. 
Now  if  within  thy  breast  may  be 
Pity  for  them  and  love  for  me, 
If  thou,  O  rover  of  the  night, 
Have  valour  and  with  him  can  fight, 
Subdue  the  giants'  cruel  foe 
Who  dwells  where  Damjak's  thickets  grow. 
But  if  thine  arm  in  vain  assay 
This  queller  of  his  foes  to  slay, 
Now  surely  here  before  thine  eyes, 
Wronged  and  ashamed  thy  sister  dies. 
Too  well,  alas,  too  well  I  see 
That,  strong  in  war  as  thou  mayst  be, 
Thou  canst  not  in  the  battle  stand 
When  Rama  meets  thee  hand  to  hand. 
Go  forth,  thou  hero  but  in  name, 
Assuming  might  thou  canst  not  claim  ; 
(Jail  friend  arid  kin,  no  longer  stay  ; 
Away  from  Janasthan,  away  ! 
Shame  of  thy  race  !  the  weak  alone 
Beneath  thine  arm  may  sink  o'erthrown  ; 
Fly  Kama  and  his  brother  :  they 
Are  men  too  strong  for  thee  to  slay. 
How  canst  thou  hope,  O  weak  and  base, 
To  make  this  grove  thy  dwelling-place  ? 
With  Rama's  might  unmeet  to  vie, 
O'ermastered  thou  wilt  quickly  die. 
A  hero  strong  in  valorous  deed 
Is  Rama,  Dasaratha's  seed  ; 
And  scarce  of  weaker  might  than  he 
His  brother  chief  who  mangled  me.' 

Thus  wept  and  wailed  in  deep  distress 
The  grim  misshapen  giantess  : 
Before  her  brother's  feet  she  lay 
O'erwhelmed  with  grief,    and   swooned 
away. 


CANTO  XXII 


KHARA'S  WRATH, 

Roused  by  the  taunting  words  she  spoke. 
The  mighty  Khara's  wrath  awoke, 
And  there,  while  giants  girt  him  round, 
In  these  tierce  words  an  utterance  found  ; 

*  I  cannot,  peerless  one,  contain. 
Mine  anger  at  this  high  disdain, 
Galling  as  salt  when  sprinkled  o'er 
The  rawness  of  a  bleeding  sore. 
Kama  in  little  count  I  hold, 
Weak  man  whose  days  are  quickly  told. 
The  caitiff  with  his  life  to -clay 
For  all  his  evil  deeds  shall  pay. 
Dry,  sister,  dry  each  needless  tear, 
Stint  thy  lament  and  banish  fear, 
For  Rama  and  his  brother  go 
This  day  to  Yama's  realm  below. 
My  warrior's  axe  shall  stretch  him  slain, 
Ere  set  of  sun,  upon  the  plain, 
Then  shall  thy  sated  lips  be  red 
With  his  warm  blood  in  torrents  shed.1 

As  Khara's  speech  the  demon  heard, 
With  sudden  joy  her  heart  was  stirred  : 
She  fondly  praised  him  as  the  boast 
And  glory  of  the  giant  host. 
First  moved  to  ire  by  taunts  and  stings, 
Now  soothed  by  gentle  flatten ngs, 
To  Dushan,  who  his  armies  led, 
The  demon  Khara  spoke,  and  said  : 

4  Friend,  from  the  host  of  giants  call 
Full  fourteen  thousand,  best  of  all, 
Slaves  of  my  will,  of  fearful  might, 
Who  never  turn  their  backs  in  fight ; 
Fiends  who  rejoice  to  slay  and  mar, 
Dark  as  the  clouds  of  autumn  are: 
Make  ready  quickly,  O  my  friend, 
My  chariot  and  the  bows  I  bend. 
My  swords,  my  shafts  of  brilliant  sheen, 
My  divers  lances  long  and  keen. 
On  to  the  battle  will  I  lead 
These  heroes  of  Pulastya's  seed, 
And  thus,  O  famed  for  warlike  skill, 
Kama  my  wicked  foeman  k^1.' 

He  spoke,  and  ere  his  speech  was  done, 
His  chariot  glittering  like  the  sun, 
Yoked  and  announced,  by  Dushan's  care, 
With  dappled  steeds  was  ready  there. 
High  as  a  peak  from  Meru  rent 
It  burned  with  golden  ornament ; 
The  pole  of  lazulite,  of  gold 
Were  the  bright  wheels  whereon  it  rolled. 
With  gold  and  moonstone  blazoned  o'er, 
Fish,  flowers,  trees,  rocks,  the  panels  bore; 
Auspicious  birds  embossed  thereon, 
And  stars  in  costly  emblem  shone. 
O'er  flashing  swords  his  banner  hung, 
And  sweet  bells,  ever  tinkling,  swung. 


Canto  XXIII. 


THE  RAM  A?  AN. 


255 


That  mighty  host  with  sword  and  shield 
And  car  was  ready  for  the  field  : 
And  Khara  saw,  and  Dushan  cried, 
'  Forth  to  the  fight,  ye  giants',  ride.' 
Then  banners  waved,  and  shield  and  sword 
Flashed  as  the  host  obeyed  its  lord. 
From  Janasthan  they  sallied  out 
With  eager  speed,  and  din,  and  shout, 
Armed  with  the  mace  for  close  attacks, 
The  bill,  the  spear,  the  battle-axe, 
Steel  quoit  and  club  that  flashed  afar, 
Huge  bow  and  sword  and  scymitar, 
The  dart  to  pierce,  the  bolt  to  strike, 
The  murderous  bludgeon,  lance,  and  pike. 
So  forth  from  Janasthan,  intent 
On  Khara's  will,  the  monsters  went. 
He  saw  their  awful  march :  not  far 
Behind  the  host  he  drove  his  car. 
Ware  of  his  master's  will,  to  speed 
The  driver  urged  each  gold-decked  steed. 
Then  forth  the  warrior's  coursers  sprang, 
And  with  tumultuous  murmur  rang 
Each  distant  quarter  of  the  sky 
And  realms  that  intermediate  lie. 
High  and  more  high  within  his  breast 

His  pride  triumphant  rose, 
While  terrible  as  Death  he  pressed 

Or. ward  to  slay  his  foes. 
*  More  swiftly  yet,'  as  on  they  fled, 

He  cried  in  thundering  tones 
Loud  as  a  cloud  that  overhead 

Hails  down  a  flood  of  stones. 


CANTO  XXIII. 


THE  OMENS. 

?  forth  upon  its  errand  went 
_  iiat  huge  ferocious  armament, 
An  awful  cloud,  in  dust  and  gloom, 
With  threatening  thunders  from  its  womb 
Poured  in  sad  augury  a  flood 
Of  rushing  water  mixt  with  blood. 
The  monarch's  steeds,  though  strong  and 

fleet, 

Stumbled  and  fell :  and  yet  their  feet 
Passed  o'er  the  bed  of  flowers  that  lay 
Fresh  gathered  on  the  royal  way. 
No  gleam  of  sunlight  struggled  through 
The  sombre  pall  of  midnight  hue, 
Edged  with  a  line  of  bloody  red, 
Like  whirling  torches  overhead, 
A  vulture,  fierce,  of  mighty  size, 
Terrific  with  his  cruel  eyes, 
Perched  on  the  staff  enriched  with  gold, 
Whence  hung  the  flag  in  many  a  fold. 
Each  ravening  bird,  each  beast  of  prey 
Where  Janasthan's  wild  thickets  lay, 
Rose  with  a  long  discordant  cry 
And  gathered  as  the  host  went  by, 


And  from  the  south  long,  wild,  and  shrill, 

Came  spirit  voices  boding  ill. 

Like  elephants  in  frantic  mood, 

Vast  clouds  terrific,  sable-hued, 

Hid  all  the  sky  where'er  they  bore 

Their  load  of  water  mixt  with  gore. 

Above,  below,  around  were  spread 

Thick  shades  of  darkness  strange  and  dread, 

Nor  could  the  wildered  glance  descry 

A  point  or  quarter  of  the  sky. 

Then  came  o'er  heaven  a  sanguine  hue, 

Though  evening's  flush  not  yet  was  due, 

While  each  ill-omened  bird  that  flies 

Assailed  the  king  with  harshest  cries. 

There  screamed  the  vulture  and  the  crane, 

And  the  loud  jackal  shrieked  again. 

Each  hideous  thing  that  bodes  aright 

Disaster  in  the  coming  fight, 

With  gaping  mouth  that  hissed  and  flamed, 

The  ruin  of  the  host  proclaimed. 

Eclipse  untimely  reft  away 

The  brightness  of  the  Lord  of  Day, 

And  near  his  side  was  seen  to  glow 

A  mace-like  comet  boding  woe. 

Then  while  the  sun  was  lost  to  view 

A  mighty  wind  arose  and  blew, 

And  stars  like  fireflies  shed  their  light, 

Nor  waited  for  the  distant  night. 

The  lilies  drooped,  the  brooks  were  dried, 

The  fish  and  birds  that  swam  them  died, 

And  every  tree  that  was  so  fair 

With  flower  and  fruit  was  stripped  and  bare. 

The  wild  wind  ceased,  yet,  raised  on  high, 

Dark  clouds  of  dust  involved  the  sky. 

In  doleful  twitter  long  sustained 

The  restless  Sank  as1  complained, 

And  from  the  heavens  with  flash  and  flame 

Terrific  meteors  roaring  came. 

Earth  to  her  deep  foundation  shook 

With  rock  and  tree  and  plain  and  brool?, 

As  Khara  with  triumphant  shout, 

Borne  in  his  chariot,  sallied  out. 

His  left  arm  throbbed:  he  knew  full  well 

That  omen,  and  his  visage  fell. 

Each  awful  sign  the  giant  viewed, 

And  sudden  tears  his  eye  bedewed. 

Care  on  his  brow  sat  chill  and  black, 

Yet  mad  with  wrath  he  turned  not  back. 

Upon  each  fearful  sight  that  raised 

The  shuddering  hair  the  chieftain  gazed, 

And  laughing  in  his  senseless  pride 

Thus  to  his  giant  legions  cried  : 

'By  sense  of  mightiest  strength  upborne, 

These  feeble  signs  I  laugh  to  scorn. 

I  could  bring  down  the  stars  that  shine 

In  heaven  with  these  keen  shafts  of  mine. 

Impelled  by  warlike  fury  I 

Could  cause  e'en  Death  himself  to  die. 


i  The  Sarik£  is  the  Maina,  a  bird  like  a 
starling, 


256 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


£ook  III. 


I  will  not  seek  my  home  again 
Until  my  pointed  shafts  have  slain 
This  Raghu's  son  so  fierce  in  pride, 
And  Lakshman  by  his  brother's  side. 
And  she,  my  sister,  she  for  whom 
These  sons  of  Raghu  meet  their  doom, 
She  with  delighted  lips  shall  drain 
The  lifeblood  of  her  foemen  slain. 
Fear  not  for  me  :  I  ne'er  have  known 
Defeat,  in  battle  overthrown. 
Fear  not  for  me,  O  giants  ;  true 
Are  the  proud  words  I  speak  to  you. 
The  king  of  Gods  who  rules  on  high, 
If  wild  Airavat  bore  him  nigh, 
Should  fall  before  me  bolt  in  hand  : 
And  shall  these  two  my  wrath  withstand  ! ' 

He  ended  and  the  giant  host 
Who  heard  their  chief's  triumphant  boast, 
Rejoiced  with  equal  pride  elate, 
Entangled  in  the  noose  of  Fate. 

Then  met  on  high  in  bright  array, 
With  eyes  that  longed  to  see  the  fray, 
God  and  Gandharva,  sage  and  saint, 
With  beings  pure  from  earthly  taint. 
Blest  for  good  works  aforetime  wrought, 
Thus  each  to  other  spake  his  thought : 
4  Now  joy  to  Brahmans,  joy  to  kine, 
And  all  whom  world  count  half  divine  I 
May  Raghu's  offspring  slay  in  fight 
Pulastya's  sons  who  roam  by  night!' 
In  words  like  these  and  more,  the  best 
Of  high-souled  saints  their  hopes  expressed, 
Bending  their  eager  eyes  from  where 
Car- borne  with  Gods  they  rode  in  air. 
Beneath  them  stretching  far,  they  viewed 
The  giants'  death-doomed  multitude. 
They  saw  where,  urged  with  fury,  far 
Before  the  host  rolled  Khara's  car, 
And  close  beside  their  leader  came 
Twelve  giant  peers  of  might  and  fame.1 
Four  other  chiefs58  before  the  rest 
Behind  their  leader  Dushan  pressed. 
Impetuous,  cruel,  dark,  and  dread, 

All  thirsting  for  the  fray, 
The  hosts  of  giant  warriors  sped 

Onward  upon  their  way. 
With  eager  speed  they  reached  the  spot 

Where  dwelt  the  princely  two, — 
Like  planets  in  a  league  to  blot 

The  sun  and  moon  from  view. 

1  Their  names  which  are  rather  un- 
manageable and  of  no  importance  are 
Syenagami,  Prithusyarna,  Yajnasatru, 
Vihangama,  Durjaya,  Paraviraksha, 
Purusha,  Kalakamuka,  Meghaniali,  Maha- 
mali,  Varasya,  Rudhirasaua. 

*  Mahakapala,  Sthulaksha,  Pramatha, 
Trisiras. 


CANTO  XXIV. 


THE  HOST  IN  SIGHT. 

While  Khara.  urged  by  valiant  rage, 
Drew  near  that  little  hermitage, 
Those  wondrous  signs  in  earth  and  sky 
Smote  on  each  prince's  watchful  eye. 
When  Rama  saw  those  signs  of  woe 
Fraught  with  destruction  to  the  foe, 
With  bold  impatience  scarce  repressed 
His  brother  chief  he  thus  addressed  : 

1  These  fearful  signs,  my  brother  bold, 
Which  threaten  all  our  foes,  behold  : 
All  laden,  as  they  strike  the  view, 
With  ruin  to  the  fiendish  crew. 
The  angry  clouds  are  gathering  fast, 
Their  skirts  with  dusty  gloom  o'ercast, 
And  harsh  with  loud-voiced  thunder,  rain 
Thick  drops  of  blood  upon  the  plain- 
See,  burning  for  the  coming  tight, 
My  shafts  with  wreaths  of  smoke  are  white, 
And  my  great  bow  embossed  with  gold 
Throbs  eager  for  the  master's  hold. 
Each  bird  that  through  the  forest  flies 
Sends  out  its  melancholy  cries. 
All  signs  foretell  the  dangerous  strife, 
The  jeopardy  of  limb  and  life. 
Each  sight,  each  sound  gives  warning  clear 
That  foemen  meet  and  death  is  near. 
But  courage,  valiant  brother  !  well 
The  throbuings  of  mine  arm  foretell 
That  ruin  waits  the  hostile  powers, 
And  triumph  in  the  fight  is  ours. 
I  hail  the  welcome  omen  :  thou 
Art  bright  of  face  and  clear  of  brow. 
For  Lakshman,  when  the  eye  can  trace 
A  cloud  upon  the  warrior's  face 
Stealing  the  cheerful  light  away, 
His  life  is  doomed  in  battle  fray. 
List,  brother,  to  that  awful  cry  : 
With  shout  and  roar  the  fiends  draw  nigh. 
With  thundering  beat  of  many  a  drum 
The  savage-hearted  giants  come. 
The  wise  who  value  safety  know 
To  meet,  prepared,  the  coming  blow  : 
In  paths  of  prudence  trained  aright 
They  watch  the  stroke  before  it  smite. 
Take  thou  thine  arrows  and  thy  bow, 
And  with  the  Maithil  lady  go 
For  shelter  to  the  mountain  cave 
Where  thickest  trees  their  branches  wave. 
I  will  not  have  thee,  Lakshman,  say 
One  word  in  answer,  but  obey.' 
By  all  thy  honour  for  these  feet 
Of  mine,  dear  brother,  1  entreat. 
Thy  warlike  arm,  I  know  could,  smite 
To  death  these  rovers  of  the  night ; 
But  I  this  day  would  fight  alone 
Till  all  the  fiends  be  overthrown.' 


Canto  XXV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


257 


.PC 

I 


H, 

i 


He   spake :    and   Lakshman  answered 

naught : 

His  arrows  and  his  bow  he  brought, 
And  then  with  Sita  following  hied 
For  shelter  to  the  mountain  side. 

a  Lakshman  and  the  lady  through 
'he  forest  to'the  cave  withdrew, 
Tis  well,'  cried  Rama.  Then  he  braced 

is  coat  of  mail  around  his  waist. 
When,  bright  as  blazing  fire,  upon 
His  mighty  limbs  that  armour  shone, 
The  hero  stood  like  some  great  light 
Uprising  in  the  dark  of  night. 
His  dreadful  shafts  were  by  his  side  ; 
His  trusty  bow  he  bent  and  plied. 
Prepared  he  stood  :  the  bowstring  rang, 
Filling  the  welkin  with  the  clang. 

The  high-souled  Gods  together  drew 
The  wonder  of  the  fight  to  view, 
The  saints  made  free  from  spot  and  stain, 
And  bright  Gandharvas'  heavenly  train. 
Each  glorious  sage  the  assembly  sought, 
Each  saint  divine  of  loftiest  thought, 
And  filled  with  zeal  for  Rama's  sake. 
Thus  they  whose  deeds  were  holy  spake  : 

'  Now  be  it  well  with  Brahmans,  now 
Well  with  the  worlds  and  every  cow! 
Let  Rama  in  the  deadly  fray 
The  fiends  who  walk  in  darkness  slay, 
As  He  who  bears  the  discus1  slew 
The  chieftains  of  the  Asur  crew.' 

Then  each  with  anxious  glances  viewed 
His  fellow  and  his  speech  renewed  : 
'  There  twice  seven  thousand  giants  stand 
With  impious  heart  and  cruel  hand  : 
Here  Rama  stands,  by  virtue  known : 
How  can  the  hero  fight  alone  ? ' 

Thus  royal  sage  and  Brahman  saint, 
Spirit,  and  Virtue  free  from  taint, 
And  all  the  Gods  of  heaven  who  rode 
On  golden  cars,  their  longing  showed. 
Their  hearts  with  doubt  and  terror  rent, 
They  saw  the  giants'  armament, 
And  Rama  clothed  in  warrior  might, 
Forth  standing  in  the  front  of  fight. 
Lord  of  the  arm  no  toil  might  tire, 
He  stood  majestic  in  his  ire, 
Matchless  in  form  as  Rudra2  when 
His  wrath  is  fierce  on  Gods  or  men. 

While  Gods  and  saints  in  close  array 
Held  converse  of  the  coming  fray, 
""he  army  of  the  fiends  drew  near 

ith  sight  and  sound  that  counselled  fear. 
Long,  loud  and  deep  their  war-cry  pealed, 
As  on  they  rushed  with  flag  and  shield, 
Each,  of  his  proper  valour  proud, 
Urging  to  fight  the  demon  crowd. 


His  ponderous  bow  each  warrior  tried, 
And  swelled  his  bulk  with  martial  pride. 
'Mid  shout  and  roar  and  trampling  feet, 
And  thunder  of  the  drums  they  beat, 
Loud  and  more  loud  the  tumult  went 
Throughout  the  forest's  vast  extent, 
And  all  the  life  that  moved  withia 
The  woodland  trembled  at  the  din. 
]n  eager  haste  all  fled  to  find 
Some  tranquil  spot,  nor  looked  behind. 

With  every  arm  of  war  supplied, 
On-rushing  wildly  like  the  tide 
Of  some  deep  sea,  the  giant  host 
Approached  where  Rama  kept  his  post. 
Then  he,  in  battle  skilled  and  tried, 
Bent  his  keen  eye  on  every  side, 
And  viewed  the  host  of  Khara  face 
To  face  before  his  dwelling-place. 
He  drew  his  arrows  forth,  arid  reared 
And  strained  that  bow  which  foemen  feared. 
And  yielded  to  the  vengeful  sway 
Of  fierce  desire  that  host  to  slay. 
Terrific  as  the  ruinous  fire 
That  ends  the  worlds,  he  glowed  in  ire, 
And  his  tremendous  form  dismayed 
The  Gods  who  roam  the  forest  shade. 
For  in  the  furious  wrath  that  glowed 
Within  his  soul  the  hero  showed 
Like  Siva  when  his  angry  might 
Stayed  Daksha's  sacriticial  rite.1 
Like  some  great  cloud  at  dawn  of  day 

When  first  the  sun  upsprings, 
And  o'er  the  gloomy  mass  each  ray 

A  golden  radiance  flings: 
Thus  showed  the  children  of  the  night, 

Whose  mail  and  chariots  threw, 
With  gleam  of  bows  and  armlets  bright, 

Flashes  of  flamy  hue. 

CANTO  XXV. 
THE  BATTLE. 

When  Khara  with  the  hosts  he  led 

Drew  near  to  Rama's  leafy  shed, 

He  saw  that  queller  of  the  foe 

Stand  ready  with  his  ordered  bow. 

He  saw,  and  burning  at  the  view 

His  clanging  bow  he  raised  and  drew, 

And  bade  his  driver  urge  apace 

His  car  to  meet  him  face  to  face. 

Obedient  to  his  master's  best 

His  eager  steeds  the  driver  pressed 

On  to  the  spot  where,  none  to  aid, 

The  strong-armed  chief  his  weaponswayed 

Soon  as  the  children  of  the  night 

Saw  Khara  rushing  to  the  fight, 


1  Vishnu,  who  bears  a  cJiakra  or  discus,        i  See     Additional 
a  Siva.  SACRIFICE, 


Notes— DAKSHA'i 


258 


RAMAYAN. 


Book  tit. 


His  lords  with  loud  Unearthly  cry 

Followed  their  chief  and  gathered  nigh. 

As  in  his  car  the  leader  rode 

With  all  his  lords  around,  he  showed 

Like  the  red  planet  fiery  Mars 

Surrounded  by  the  lesser  stars, 

Then  with  a  horrid  yell  that  rent 

The  airi  the  giant  chieftain  sent 

A  thousand  darts  in  rapid  shower 

On  Rama  matchless  in  his  power. 

The  rovers  of  the  night,  impelled 

By  fiery  rage  which  naught  withheld^ 

Upon  the  unconquered prince,  who  strained 

His  fearful  bow,  their  arrows  rained. 

With  sword  and  club,  with  mace  and  pike, 

With  spear  and  axe  to  pierce  and  strike, 

Those  furious  fiends  on  every  side 

The  unconquerable  hero  plied. 

The  giant  legions  huge  and  strong, 

Like  clouds  the  tempest  drives  along, 

Rushed  upon  Rama  with  the  speed 

Of  whirling  car,  and  mounted  steed, 

And  hill-like  elephant,  to  slay 

The  matchless  prince  in  battle  fray. 

Then  upon  Kama  thick  and  fast 

The  rain  of  mortal  steel  they  cast, 

As  labouring  clouds  their  torrents  shed 

Upon  the  mountain-monarch's1  head. 

As  near  and  nearer  round  him  drew 

The  warriors  of  the  giant  crew, 

He  showed  like  £iva  girt  by  all 

His  spirits  when  night's  shadows  fall. 

As  the  great  deep  receives  each  rill 

And  river  rushing  from  the  hill, 

He  bore  that  flood  of  darts,  and  broke 

With  well-aimed  shaft  each  murderous 

stroke. 

By  stress  of  arrowy  storm  assailed, 
And  wounded  sore,  he  never  failed, 
Like  some  high  mountain  which  defies 
The  red  bolts  flashing  from  the  skies. 
With  ruddy  streams  each  limb  was  dyed 
From  gaping  wounds  in  breast  and  side, 
Showing  the  hero  like  the  sun 
'Mid  crimson  clouds  ere  day  is  done. 
Then,  at  that  sight  of  terror,  faint 
Grew  God,  Gandharva,  sage,  and  saint, 
Trembling  to  see  the  prince  oppose 
His  single  might  to  myriad  foes. 
But  waxing  wroth,  with  force  unspent, 
He  strained  his  bow  to  utmost  bent, 
And  forth  his  arrows  keen  and  true 
In  hundreds,  yea  in  thousands  flew,— 
Shafts  none  could  ward,  and  none  endure : 
Death's  fatal  noose  was  scarce  so  sure. 
As  'twere  in  playful  ease  he  shot 
His  gilded  shafts,  and  rested  not. 
With  swiftest  flight  and  truest  aim 
Upon  the  giant  hosts  they  came. 


Himalaya, 


Each  smote,  each  stayed  a  foeman's breath, 
As  fatal  as  the  coil  of  Death. 
Each  arrow  through  a  giant  tore 
A  passage,  and  besmeared  with  gore, 
Pursued  its  onward  way  and  through 
The  air  with  flamy  brilliance  flew. 
Unnumbered  were  the  arrows  sent 
From  the  great  bow  which  Kama  bent, 
And  every  shaft  with  iron  head 
The  lifeblood  of  a  giant  shed. 
Their  pennoned  bows  were  cleft,  nor  mail 
Nor  shield  of  hide  could  aught  avail. 
For  Rama's  myriad  arrows  tore 
Through  arms,  and  bracelets  which  they 

wore, 

And  severed  mighty  warriors'  thighs 
Like  trunks  of  elephants  in  size, 
And  cut  resistless  passage  sheer 
Through  gold-decked  horse  and  charioteer, 
Slew  elephant  and  rider,  slew 
The  horseman  and  the  charger  too, 
And  infantry  unnumbered  sent 
To  dwell  'neath  Yama's  government, 
Then  rose  on  high  a  fearful  yell 
Of  rovers  of  the  night,  who  fell 
Beneath  that  iron  torrent,  sore 
Wounded  by  shafts  that  rent  and  tore. 
So  mangled  by  the  ceaseless  storm 
Of  shafts  of  every  kind  and  form, 
Such  joy  they  found,  as  forests  feel 
When  scorched  by  flame,  from  Rama's  steel. 
The  mightiest  still  the  fight  maintained, 
And  furious  upon  Rama  rained 
Dart,  arrow,  spear,  with  wild  attacks 
Of  mace,  and  club,  and  battle-axe. 
But  the  great  chief,  unconquered  yet, 
Their  weapons  with  his  arrows  met. 
Which  severed  many  a  giant's  head, 
And  all  the  plain  with  corpses  spread. 
With  sundered  bow  and  shattered  shield 
Headless  they  sank  upon  the  field, 
As  the  tall  trees,  that  felt  the  blast 
Of  Garud's  wing,  to  earth  were  cast. 
The  giants  left  unslaughtered  there 
Where  filled  with  terror  and  despair, 
And  to  their  leader  Khara  fled 
Faint,  wounded,  and  discomfited. 
These  fiery  Dushan  strove  to  cheer, 
And  poised  his  bow  to  calm  their  fear  ; 
Then  fierce  as  He  who  rules  the  dead, 
When  wroth,  on  angered  Rama  sped. 
By  Dushan  cheered,  the  demons  cast 
Their  dread  aside  and  rallied  fast. 
With  Sals,  rocks,  palm-trees  in  their  hands, 
With  nooses,  maces,  pikes,  and  brands, 
Again  upon  the  godlike  man 
The  mighty  fiends  infuriate  ran, 
These  casting  rocks  like  hail,  and  these 
A  whelming  shower  of  leafy  trees. 
Wild,  wondrous  fight,  the  eye  to  scare, 
And  raise  on  end  each  shuddering  hair, 


Canto  XXVI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


259 


As  with  the  fiends  who  loved  to  rove 
By  night  heroic  Rama  strove  ! 
The  giants  in  their  fury  plied 
Rama  with  darts  on  every  side. 
Then,  by  the  gathering  demons  pressed 
From  north  and  south  and  east  and  west, 
By  showers  of  deadly  darts  assailed 
From  every  quarter  fiercely  hailed, 
Girt  by  the  foes  who  swarmed  around, 
He  raised  a  mighty  shout  whose  sound 
Struck  terror.    On  the  giant  crew 
His  great  Gandharva1  arrow  flew. 
A  thousand  mortal  shafts  were  rained 
From  the  orbed  bow  the  hero  strained, 
Till  east  and  west  and  south  and  north 
Were  filled  with  arrows  volleyed  forth. 
They  heard  the  fearful  shout :  they  saw 
His  mighty  hand  the  bowstring  draw, 
Yet  could  no  wounded  giant's  eye 
See  the  swift  storm  of  arrows  fly. 
Still  firm  the  warrior  stood  and  cast 
His  deadly  missiles  thick  and  fast. 
Dark  grew  the  air  with  arrowy  hail 
Which  hid  the  sun  as  with  a  veil, 
'iends  wounded,  falling,  fallen,  slain, 
dl  111  a  moment,  spread  the  plain, 
And  thousands  scarce  alive  were  left 
Mangled,  and  gashed,  and  torn,  and  cleft. 
Dire  was  the  sight,  the  plain  o'erspread 
With  trophies  of  the  mangled  dead. 
There  lay,  by  Rama's  missiles  rent, 
Full  many  a  priceless  ornament, 
With  severed  limb  and  broken  gem, 
Hauberk  and  helm  and  diadem. 
There  lay  the  shattered  car,  the  steed, 
The  elephant  of  noblest  breed, 
The  splintered  spear,  the  shivered  mace, 
Chouris  and  screens  to  shade  the  face. 
The  giants  saw  with  bitterest  pain 
Their  warriors  weltering  on  the  plain, 
Nor  dared  again  his  might  oppose 
Who  scourged  the  cities  of  his  foes. 


CANTO  XXVI. 


DU'SHAN'S  DEATH. 


When  Dushan  saw  his  giant  band 
Slaughtered  by  llama's  conquering  hand. 
He  called  five  thousand  fiends,  and  gave 
His  orders.    Bravest  of  the  brave, 
Invincible,  of  furious  might, 
Ne'er  had  they  turned  their  backs  in  flight 
They,  as  their  leader  bade  them  seize 
Spears,  swords,  and  clubs,  and  rocks,  and 
trees, 


1  One  of  the  mysterious  weapons  giver 
to  Rama, 


'oured  on  the  dauntless  prince  again 
A  ceaseless  shower  of  deadly  rain. 
The  virtuous  Rama,  undismayed. 
Their  missiles  with  his  arrows  stayed, 
And  weakened,  ere  it  fell,  the  shock 
Of  that  dire  hail  of  tree  and  rock, 
And  like  a  bull  with  eyelids  closed, 
The  pelting  of  the  storm  opposed. 

Then  blazed  his  ire  :  he  longed  to  smite 
To  earth  the  rovers  of  the  night. 
The  wrath  that  o'er  his  spirit  came 
Dlothed  him  with  splendour  as  of  flame, 
While  showers  of  mortal  darts  he  poured 
Fierce  on  the  giants  and  their  lord. 
Dushan,  the  foeman's  dusky  dread, 
By  frenzied  rage  inspirited, 
On  Raghu's  son  his  missiles  cast 
Like  Indra's  bolts  which  rend  and  blast. 
But  Rama  with  a  trenchant  dart 
Cleft  Dushan's  ponderous  bow  apart. 
And  then  the' gold-decked  steeds  who  drew 
The  chariot,  with  four  shafts  he  slew. 
One  orescent  dart  he  aimed  which  shred 
Clean  from  his  neck  the  driver's  head  ; 
Three  more  with  deadly  skill  addressed 
Stood  quivering  in  the  giant's  breast. 
Hurled  from  his  car,  steeds,  driver  slain, 
The  bow  he  trusted  cleft  in  twain, 
He  seized  his  mace,  strong,  heavy,  dread, 
High  as  a  mountain's  towering  head. 
With  plates  of  gold  adorned  and  bound, 
Embattled  Gods  it  crushed  and  ground. 
Its  iron  spikes  yet  bore  the  stains 
Of  mangled  f  oemen's  blood  and  brains, 
Its  heavy  mass  of  jagged  steel 
Was  like  a  thunderbolt  to  feel, 
It  shattered,  as  on  foes  it  fell, 
The  city  where  the  senses  dwell.1 
Fierce  Dushao  seized  that  ponderous  maoe 
Like  monstrous  form  of  serpent  race, 
And  all  his  savage  soul  aglow 
With  fury,  rushed  upon  the  foe. 
But  Raghu's  son  took  steady  aim, 
And  as  the  rushing  giant  came, 
Shore  with  two  shafts  the  arms  whereon 
The  demon's  glittering  bracelets  shone. 
His  arm  at  each  huge  shoulder  lopped, 
The  mighty  body  reeled  and  dropped, 
And  the  great  mace  to  earth  was  thrown 
Like  Indra's  staff  when  storms  have  blown, 
As  some  vast  elephant  who  lies 
Shorn  of  his  tusks,  and  bleeding  dies, 
So,  when  his  arms  were  rent  away, 
Low  on  the  ground  the  giant  lay. 
The  spirits  saw  the  monster  die, 
And  loudly  rang  their  joyful  cry, 
'  Honour  to  Rama  !  nobly  done  ! 
Well  hast  thou  fought,  Kakutstha's  son ! 


A  periphrasis  for  the  body. 


260 


THE  HAM  AY  AN. 


ftooTc  111. 


But  the  great  three,  the  host  who  led, 
Enraged  to  see  their  chieftain  dead, 
As  though  Death's  toils  were  round  them 

cast, 

Rushed  upon  Rama  fierce  and  fast. 
Mahakapala  seized,  to  strike 
His  foeman  down,  a  ponderous  pike  : 
Sthulaksha  charged  with  spear  to  fling, 
Pramathi  with  his  axe  to  swing. 
When  Rama  saw,  with  keen  darts  he 
Received  the  onset  of  the  three, 
As  calm  as  though  he  hailed  a  guest 
In  each,  who  came  for  shade  and  rest, 
Mahakapala's  monstrous  head 
Fell  with  the  trenchant  dart  he  sped, 
His  good  right  hand  in  battle  skilled 
Sthuiaksha's  eyes  with  arrows  filled, 
And  trusting  still  his  readv  bow 
He  laid  the  fierce  Pramathi  low, 
Who  sank  as  some  tall  tree  falls  down 
With  bough  and  branch  and  leafy  crown. 
Then  with  five  thousand  shafts  he  slew 
The  rest  of  Dushan's  giant  crew  : 
Five  thousand  demons,  torn  and  rent, 
To  Varna's  gloomy  realm  he  sent. 

When  Khara  knew  the  fate  of  all 
The  giant  band  and  Dushan's  fall, 
He  called  the  mighty  chiefs  who  led 
His  army,  and  in  fury  said  : 

'  Now  Dushan  and  his  armed  train 
Lie  prostrate  on*  the  battle  plain. 
Lead  forth  an  army  mightier  still, 
Rama,  this  wretched  man,  to  kill. 
Fight  ye  with  darts  of  every  shape, 
Nor  let  him  from  your  wrath  escape.' 

Thus  spoke  the  fiend,  by  rage  impelled, 
And  straight  his  course  toward  Rama  held. 
With  $yenagami  and  the  rest 
Of  his  twelve  chiefs  he  onward  pressed, 
And  every  giant  as  he  went 
A  storm  of  well-wrought  arrows  sent. 
Then  with  his  pointed  shafts  that  came 
With  gold  and  diamond  bright  as  flame, 
Dead  to  the  earth  the  hero  threw 
The  remnant  of  the  demon  crew. 
Those  shafts  with  feathers  bright  as  gold, 
Like  flames  which  wreaths  of  smoke  enfold, 
Smote  down  the  fiends  like  tall  trees  rent 
By  red  bolts  from  the  firmament. 
A  hundred  shafts  he  pointed  well : 
By  their  keen  barbs  a  hundred  fell : 
A  thousand. — and  a  thousand  more 
In  battle's  front  lay  drenched  in  gore. 
Of  all  defence  and  guard  bereft, 
With  sundered  bows  and  harness  cleft, 
Their  bodies  red  with  bloody  stain 
Fell  the  night- rovers  on  the  plain, 
Which,  covered  with  the  loosened  hair 
Of  bleeding  giants  prostrate  there, 
Like  some  great  altar  showed,  arrayed 
For  holy  rites  with  grass  o'erlaid, 


The  darksome  wood,  each  glade  and  dell 
Where  the  wild  demons  fought  and  fell, 
Was  like  an  awful  hell  whose  floor 
Is  thick  with  mire  and  flesh  and  gore. 

Thus  twice  seven  thousand  fiends,  a 

band 

With  impious  heart  and  bloody  hand, 
By  Raghu's  son  were  overthrown, 
A  man,  on  foot,  and  all  alone. 
Of  all  who  met  on  that  fierce  day, 
Khara,  great  chief,  survived  the  fray, 
The  monster  of  the  triple  head,1 
And  Raghu's  son,  the  foeman's  dread, 
The  other  demon  warriors,  all 
Skilful  and  brave  and  strong  and  tall, 
In  front  of  battle,  side  by  side, 
Struck  down  by  Lakahman's  brother  died, 

When  Khara  saw  the  host  he  led 
Triumphant  forth  to  fight 

Stretched  on  the  earth,  all  smitten  dead, 
By  Kama's  nobler  might, 

Upon  his  foe  he  fiercely  glared, 
.And  drove  against  him  fast, 

Like  Indra  when  his  arm  is  bared 
His  thundering  bolt  to  cast. 

CANTO  XXVIL 


THE  DEATH  OF  TRlglRAS. 

But  Trisiras,2  a  chieftain  dread, 
Marked  Khara  as  he  onward  sped. 
And  met  his  car  and  cried,  to  stay 
The  giant  from  the  purposed  fray  : 
'  Mine  be  the  charge  :  let  me  attack, 
And  turn  thee  from  the  contest  back. 
Let  me  go  forth,  and  thou  shalt  see 
The  strong-armed  Rarna  slain  by  me. 
True  are  the  words  I  speak,  my  lord  : 
I  swear  it  as  I  touch  my  sword  : 
That  I  this  Rama's  blood  will  spill, 
Whom  every  giant's  hand  should  kill. 
This  Rama  will  I  slay,  or  he 
In  battle  fray  shall  conquer  me. 
Restrain  thy  spirit :  check  thy  car, 
And  view  the  combat  from  afar. 
Thou,  joying  o'er  the  prostrate  foe, 
To  Janasthan  again  shalt  go, 
Or,  if  I  fall  in  battle's  chance, 
Against  my  conqueror  advance.' 

Thu?  Trisiras  for  death  who  yearned  : 
And  Khara  from  the  conflict  turned. 
'  Go  forth  to  battle,'  Khara  cried; 
And  toward  his  foe  the  giant  hied. 
Borne  on  a  car  of  glittering  hue 
Which  harnessed  coursers  fleetly  drew, 
Like  some  huge  hill  with  triple  peak 
He  onward  rushed  the  prince  to  seek, 


1  Trisiras.       *  The  Three-headed, 


Canto  XXVIII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Still,  like  a  big  cloud,  sending  out 
His  arrowy  rain  with  many  a  shout 
Like  the  deep  sullen  roars  that  come 
Discordant  from  a  moistened  drum. 
But  Raghu's  son,  whose  watchful  eye 
Beheld  the  demon  rushing  nigh, 
From  the  great  bow  he  raised  and  bent 
A  shower  of  shafts  to  meet  him  sent. 
Wild  grew  the  fight  and  wilder  yet 
As  fiend  and  man  in  combat  met, 
As  when  in  some  dark  wood's  retreat 
An  elephant  and  a  lion  meet, 

The  giant  bent  his  bow,  and  true 
To  Kama's  brow  three  arrows  flew. 
Then,  raging  as  he  felt  the  stroke, 
These  words  in  anger  Rama  spoke  : 
'  Heroic  chief  !  is  such  the  power 
Of  fiends  who  rove  at  midnight  hour  ? 
Soft  as  the  touch  of  flowers  I  feel 
The  gentle  blows  thine  arrows  deal. 
Keceive  in  turn  my  shafts,  and  know 
Wnat  arrows  fly  from  Kama's  bow.' 
Thus  as  he  spoke  his  wrath  grew  hot, 
And  twice  seven  deadly  shafts  he  shot, 
Which,  dire  as  serpent's  deadly  fang, 
Straight  to  the  giant's  bosom  sprang. 
Four  arrows  more,— each  shaped  to  deal 
A  mortal  wound  with  barbed  steel,— 
The  glorious  hero  shot,  and  slew 
The  four  good  steeds  the  car  that  drew. 
Eight  other  shafts  flew  straight  and  fleet, 
And  hurled  the  driver  from  his  seat, 
And  in  the  dust  the  banner  laid 
That  proudly  o'er  the  chariot  played. 
Then  as  the  fiend  prepared  to  bound 
Forth  from  his  useless  car  to  ground, 
The  hero  smote  him  to  the  heart, 
And  numbed  his  arm  with  deadly  smart. 
Again  the  chieftain,  peerless-sou  led, 
Sent  forth  three  rapid  darts,  and  rolled 
With  each  keen  arrow,  deftly  sped, 
Low  in  the  dust  a  monstrous  head. 
Then  yielding  to  each  deadly  stroke, 
Forth  spouting    streams  of    blood    and 

smoke, 

The  headless  trunk  bedrenched  with  gore 
Fell  to  the  ground  and  moved  no  more. 
The  fiends  who  yet  were  left  with  life, 
Routed  and  crushed  in  battle  strife, 
To  Khara's  side,  like  trembling  deer 
Scared  by  the  hunter,  fled  in  fear. 
King  Khara  saw  with  furious  eye 
His  scattered  giants  turn  and  fly  ; 
Then  rallying  his  broken  train 
At  Raghu's  son  he  drove  amain, 
Like  Rahu1  when  his  deadly  might 
Comes  rushing  on  the  Lord  of  Night. 

1  The  demon  who  causes  eclipses. 


CANTO  XXVIII. 


could 


KHARA  DISMOUNTED. 

But  when  he  turned  his  eye  where  bled 
Both  Trisiras  and  Dusban  dead, 
Fear  o'er  the  giant's  spirit  came 
Of  Rama's  might  which  naught 

tame. 

He  saw  his  savage  legions,  those 
Whose  force  no  creature  dared  oppose,—* 
He  saw  the  leader  of  his  train 
By  Rama's  single  prowess  slain. 
With  burning  grief  he  marked  the  few 
Still  left  him  of  his  giant  crew. 
As  Narnuchi1  on  Indra,  so 
Rushed  the  dread  demon  on  his  foe. 
His  mighty  bow  the  monster  strained, 
And  angrily  on  Rama  rained 
His  mortal  arrows  in  a  flood, 
Like  serpent  fangs  athirst  for  blood. 
Skilled  in  the  bowman's  warlike  art, 
He  plied  the  string  and  poised  the  dart. 
Here,  on  his  car,  and  there,  he  rode, 
And  passages  of  battle  showed, 
While  all  the  skyey  regions  grew 
Dark  with  his  arrows  as  they  flew. 
Then  Rama  seized  his  ponderous  bow, 
And  straight  the  heaven  was  all  aglow 
With  shafts  whose  stroke  no  life  might  bear, 
That  filled  with  flash  and  flame  the  air, 
Thick  as  the  blinding  torrents  sent 
Down  from  Parjanya's2  firmament. 
In  space  itseif  no  space  remained, 
But  all  was  rilled  with  arrows  rained 
Incessantly  from  each  great  bow 
Wielded  by  Rama  and  his  foe. 
As  thus  in  furious  combat,  wrought 
To  mortal  hate,  the  warriors  fought, 
The  sun  himself  grew  faint  and  pale, 
Obscured  behind  that  arrowy  veil. 

As  when  beneath  the  driver's  steel 
An  elephant  is  forced  to  kneel, 
So  from  the  bard  and  pointed  head 
Of  many  an  arrow  Rama  bled. 
High  on  his  car  the  giant  rose 
Prepared  in  deadly  strife  to  close, 


1  '  This  Asura  was  a  friend  of  Indra  ; 
and  taking  advantage  of  his  friend's 
confidence,  he  drank  up  Indra's  strength 
along  with  a  draught  of  wine  and  Soma. 
Indra  then  told  the  Asvins  and  Sarasvati 
that  Namuchi  had  drunk  up  his  strength. 
The  Asvins  in  consequence  gave  Indra  a 
thunderbolt  in  the  form  of  a  foam,  with 
which  he  smote  off  the  head  of  Namuchi.' 
GARRETT'S  Classical  Dictionary  of  India. 
See  also  Book  I.  p.  39. 

*  Indra, 


262 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool  III. 


And  all  the  spirits  saw  him  stand 

Like  Yama  with  his  noose  in  hand. 

For  Khara  deemed  in  senseless  pride 

That  he,  beneath  whose  hand  had  died 

The  gaint  legions,  failed  at  length 

Slow  sinking  with  exhausted  strength. 

But  Kama,  like  a  lion,  when 

A  trembling  deer  comes  nigh  his  den, 

Feared  not  the  demon  mad  with  hate, — 

Of  lion  might  and  lion  gait. 

Then  in  his  lofty  car  that  glowed 

With  sunlike  brilliance  Khara  rode 

At  Rama  :  madly  on  he  came 

Like  a  poor  moth  that  seeks  the  flame. 

His  archer  skill  the  fiend  displayed, 

And  at  the  place  where  llama  laid 

His  hand,  an  arrow  cleft  in  two 

The  mighty  bow  the  hero  drew. 

Seven  arrows  by  the  giant  sent, 

Bright  as  the  bolts  of  Indra,  rent 

Their  way  through  mail  and  harness  joints, 

And  pierced  him  with  their  iron  points. 

On  Rama,  hero  unsurpassed, 

A  thousand  shafts  smote  thick  and  fast, 

While  as  each  missile  struck,  rang  out 

The  giant's  awful  battle -shout. 

His  knotted  arrows  pierced  and  tore 

The  sun  bright  mail  the  hero  wore, 

Till,  band  and  buckle  rent  away, 

Glittering  on  the  ground  it  lay. 

Then  pierced  in  shoulder,  breast,  and  side, 

Till  every  limb  with  blood  was  dyed, 

The  chieftain  in  majestic  ire 

Shone  glorious  as  the  smokeless  fire. 

Then  loud  and  long  the  war-cry  rose 

Of  Rama,  terror  of  his  foes, 

As,  on  the  giant's  death  intent, 

A  ponderous  bow  he  strung  and  bent, — 

Lord  Vishnu's  own,  of  wondrous  size,—- 

Agastya  gave  the  heavenly  prize. 

Then,  rushing  on  the  demon  foe, 

He  raised  on  high  that  mighty  bow, 

And  with  his  well-wrought  shafts,  whereon 

Bright  gold  between  the  feathers  shone, 

He  struck  the  pennon  fluttering  o'er 

The  chariot,  and  it  waved  no  more. 

That  glorious  flag  whose  every  fold 

Was  rich  with  blazonry  and  gold, 

Fell  as  the  sun  himself  by  all 

The  Gods'  decree  might  earthward  fall. 

From  wrathful  Khara's  hand,  whose  art 

Well  knew  each  vulnerable  part, 

Four  keenly-piercing  arrows  flew, 

And  blood  in  Rama's  bosom  drew, 

With  every  limb  distained  with  gore 

From  deadly  shafts  which  rent  and  tore, 

From  Khara's  clanging  bowstring  shots, 

The  prince's  wrath  waxed  wondrous  hot. 

His  hand  upon  his  bow  that  best 

Of  mighty  archers  firmly  pressed, 

And  from  the  well-drawn  bowstring,  true 


Each  to  its  mark,  six  arrows  flew. 
One  quivered  in  the  giant's  head, 
With  two  his  brawny  shoulders  bled  ; 
Three,  with  the  crescent  heads  they  bore, 
Deep  in  his  breast  a  passage  tore. 
Thirteen,  to  which  the  scone  had  lent 
The  keenest  point,  were  swiftly  sent 
On  the  fierce  giant,  every  one 
Destructive,  gleaming  like  the  sun. 
With  four  the  dappled  steeds  he  slew  ; 
One  cleft  the  chariot  yoke  in  two, 
One,  in  the  heat  of  battle  sped, 
Smote  from  the  neck  the  driver's  head. 
The  poles  were  rent  apart  by  three  ; 
Two  broke  the  splintered  axle-tree. 
Then  from  the  hand  of  Rama,  while 
Across  his  lips  there  came  a  smile, 
The  twelfth,  like  thunderbolt  impelled, 
Cut  the  great  hand  and  bow  it  held. 
Then,  scarce  by  Indra's  self  surpassed, 
He  pierced  the  giant  with  the  last. 
The  bow  he  trusted  cleft  in  twain, 
His  driver  and  his  horses  slain, 
Down  sprang  the  giant,  mace  in  hand, 
OH  foot  against  the  foe  to  stand. 

The  Gods  and  saints  in  bright  array 
Close  gathered  in  the  skies, 

The  prince's  might  in  battle-fray 
Beheld  with  joyful  eyes. 

Uprising  from  their  golden  seats, 
Their  hands  in  honour  raised, 

They  looked  on  Rama's  noble  feats, 
And  blessed  him  as  they  praised. 

CANTO  XXIX. 


KHARA'S    DEFEAT. 

When  Rama  saw  the  giant  nigh. 
On  foot,  alone,  with  mace  reared  high, 
In  mild  reproof  at  first  he  spoke. 
Then  forth  his  threatening  anger  broke : 
'Thou  with  the  host  'twas  thine  to  lead, 
With  elephant  and  car  and  steed, 
Hast  wrought  an  act  of  sin  and  shame, 
An  act  which  all  who  live  must  blame. 
Know  that  the  wretch  whose  evil  mind 
Joys  in  the  grief  of  human  kind, 
Though  the  three  worlds  confess  him  lord, 
Must  perish  dreaded  and  abhorred. 
Night-rover,  when  a  villain's  deeds 
Distress  the  world  he  little  heeds, 
Each  hand  is  armed  his  life  to  take, 
And  crush  him  like  a  deadly  snake. 
The  end  is  near  when  men  begin 
Through  greed  or  lust  a  life  of  sin, 
E'en  as  a  Brahman's  dame,  unwise, 
Eats  of  the  fallen  hail1  and  dies. 

1  Popularly  supposed  to  cause  death. 


Canto  XXX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


263 


Thy  hand  has  slain  the  pure  and  good, 
The  hermit  saints  of  Dandak  wood, 
Of  holy  life,  the  heirs  of  'bliss  ; 
And  thou  shalt  reap  the  fruit  of  this. 
Not  long  shall  they  whose  3ruel  breasts 
Joy  in  the  sin  the  world  detests 
Retain  their  guilty  power  and  pride, 
But  fade  like  trees  whose  roots  are  dried. 
Yes,  as  the  seasons  come  and  go, 
Each  tree  its  kindly  fruit  must  show, 
And  sinners  reap  in  fitting  time 
The  harvest  of  each  earlier  crime. 
As  those  must  surely  die  who  eat 
Unwittingly  of  poisoned  meat, 
They  too  whose  lives  in  sin  are  spent 
Receive  ere  long  the  punishment. 
And  know,  thou  rover  of  the  night, 
That  I.  a  king,  am  sent  to  smite 
The  wicked  down,  who  court  the  hate 
Of  men  whose  laws  they  violate. 
This  day  my  vengeful  hand  shall  send 
Shafts  bright  with  gold  to  tear  and  rend, 
And  pass  with  fury  through  thy  breast 
As  serpents  pierce  an  emmet's  nest. 
Thou  with  thy  host  this  day  shalt  be 
Among  the  dead  below,  and  see 
The  saints  beneath  thy  hand  who  bled, 
Whose  flesh  thy  cruel  maw  has  fed. 
They,  glorious  on  their  seats  of  gold, 
Their  slayer  shall  in  hell  behold. 
Fight  with  till  strength  thou  callest  thine, 
Mean  scion  of  ignoble  line, 
Still,  like  the  palm-tree's  fruit,  this  day 
My  shafts  thy  head  in  dust  shall  lay.' 

Such  were  the  words  that  Rama  said  : 
Then  Khara's  eyes  with  wrath  glowed  red, 
Who,  maddened  by  the  rage  that  burned 
Within  him,  with  a  smile  returned  : 

4  Thou  Dasaratha's  son,  hast  slain 
The  meaner  giants  of  my  train: 
And  canst  thou  idly  vaunt  thy  might 
And  claim  the  praise  not  thine  by  right  ? 
Not  thus  in  self-laudation  rave 
The  truly  great,  the  nobly  brave  : 
No  empty  boasts  like  thine  disgrace 
The  foremost  of  the  human  race. 
The  mean  of  soul,  unknown  to  fame, 
Who  taint  their  warrior  race  with  shame, 
Thus  speak  in  senseless  pride  as  thou, 
O  Raghu's  son,  hast  boasted  now, 
What  hero,  when  the  war-cry  rings, 
Vaunts  the  high  race  from  which  he  springs, 
Or  seeks,  when  warriors  meet  and  die. 
His  own  descent  to  glorify  ? 
Weakness  and  folly  show  confessed 
In  every  vaunt  thou  utterest, 
As  when  the  flames  fed  high  with  grass 
Detect  the  simulating  brass, 
Dost  thou  not  see  me  standing  here 
Armed  with  the  mighty  mace  I  rear, 
Firm  as  an  earth -upholding  hill 


Whose  summit  veins  of  metal  fill  ? 
Lo,  here  I  stand  before  thy  face 
To  slay  thee  with  my  murderous  mace, 
As  Death,  the  universal  lord, 
Stands  threatening  with  his  fatal  cord. 
Enough  of  this.     Much  more  remains 
That  should  be  said :  but  time  constrains. 
Ere  to  his  rest  the  sun  descend, 
And  shades  of  night  the  combat  end, 
The  twice  seven  thousand  of  my  baud 
Who  fell  beneath  thy  bloody  hand 
Shall  have  their  tears  all  wiped  away 
And  triumph  in  thy  fall  to-day.' 

He  spoke,  and  loosing  from  his  hold 
His  mighty  mace  ringed  round  with  gold, 
Like  some  red  bolt  alive  with  fire, 
Hurled  it  at  Rama,  mad  with  ire. 
The  ponderous  niace  which  Khara  threw 
Sent  fiery  flashes  as  it  flew. 
Trees,  shrubs  were  scorched  beneath  the 

blast, 

As  onward  to  its  aim  it  passed. 
But  Rama,  watching  as  it  sped 
Dire  as  His  noose  who  rules  the  dead, 
Cleft  it  with  arrows  as  it  came 
On  rushing  with  a  hiss  and  flame. 
Its  fury  spent  and  burnt  away, 
Harmless  upon  the  ground  it  lay 
Like  a  great  snake  in  furious  mood 
By  herbs  of  numbing  power  subdued. 


CANTO  XXX. 


KHARA'S  DEATH. 

When  Rama,  pride  of  Raghu's  race, 
Virtue's  dear  son,  had  cleft  the  mace, 
Thus  with  superior  smile  the  best 
Of  chiefs  the  furious  fiend  addressed  : 

'Thou,  worst  of  giant  blood,  at  length 
Hast  shown  the  utmost  of  thy  strength, 
And  forced  by  greater  might  to  bow, 
Thy  vaunting  threats  are  idle  now. 
My  shafts  have  cut  thy  club  in  twain  : 
Useless  it  lies  upon  the  plain, 
And  all  thy  pride  and  haughty  trust 
Lie  with  it  levelled  in  the  dust. 
The  words  that  thou  hast  said  to-day, 
That  thou  wouldst  wipe  the  tears  away 
Of  all  the  giants  I  have  slain, 
My  deeds  shall  render  void  and  vain. 
Thou  meanest  of  the  giants'  breed, 
Evil  in  thought  and  word  and  deed, 
My  hand  shall  take  that  life  of  thine 
As  Garud1  seized  the  juice  divine. 


1  Garud,  the  King  of  Birds,  carried  off 
the  Amrit  or  drink  of  Paradise  from 
Indra's  custody. 


264 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


Book  111. 


Thou,  rent  by  shafts,  this  day  shall  die  : 

Low  on  the  ground  thy  corse  shall  lie, 

And  bubbles  from  the  cloven  neck 

"With  froth  and  blood  thy  skin  shall  deck. 

With  du.-t  and  mire  all  rudely  dyed, 

Thy  torn  arms  lying  by  thy  side, 

While  streams  of  blood  each  limb  shall 

steep, 

Thou  on  earth's  breast  shalt  take  thy  sleep 
Like  a  fond  lover  when  he  strains 
The  beauty  whom  at  length  he  gains. 
Now  when  thy  heavy  eyelids  close 
For  ever  in  thy  deep  repose, 
Again  shall  Dandak  forest  be 
Safe  refuge  for  the  devotee. 
Thou  slain,  and  all  thy  race  who  held 
The  realm  of  Janasthan  expelled, 
Again  shall  happy  hermits  rove, 
Fearing  no  danger,  through  the  grove. 
Within  those  bounds,  their  brethren  slain, 
No  giant  shall  this  day  remain, 
But  all  shall  fly  with  many  a  tear 
And  fearing,  rid  the  saints  of  fear. 
This  bitter  day  shall  misery  bring 
On  all  the  nice  that  calls  thee  king. 
Fierce  as  their  lord,  thy  dames  shall  know, 
Bereft  of  joys,  the  taste  of  woe. 
Base,  cruel  wretch,  of  evil  mind, 
Plaguer  of  Brahmans  and  mankind, 
With  trembling  hands  each  devotee 
Feeds  holy  tires  in  dread  of  thee.' 

Thus  with  wild  fury  unrepressed 
Raghu's  brave  son  the  tiend  addressed  ; 
And  Khara,  as  his  wrath  grew  high, 
Thus  thundered  forth  his  rierce  reply  : 

1  By  senseless  pride  to  madness  wrought, 
By  danger  girt  thou  fearest  naught, 
Nor  heedest,  numbered  with  the  dead, 
What  thou  shouldst  say  and  leave  unsaid. 
When  Fate's  tremendous  coils  enfold 
The  captive  in  resistless  hold, 
He  knows  not  right  from  wrong,  each  sense 
Numbed  by  that  deadly  influence.' 

He  spoke,  and  when  his  speech  was  done 
Bent  his  tierce  brows  on  Raghu's  son. 
With  eager  eyes  he  looked  around 
If  letl.al  arms  might  yet  be  found. 
Not  far  away  and  full  in  view 
A  Sal-tree  towering  upward  grew. 
His  lips  in  mighty  strain  compressed, 
He  tore  it  up  with  root  and  crest, 
With  huge  arms  waved  it  o'er  his  head 
And  hurled  it  shouting,  Thou  art  dead. 
But  Kama,  unsurpassed  in  might. 
St-iye(l  with  his  shafts  its  onward  flight, 
And  furious  longing  seized  his  soul 
The  giant  in  the  dust  to  roll. 
Great  drops  of  sweat  each  limb  bedewed, 
His  red  eyes  showed  his  wrathful  mood. 
A  thousand  arrows,  swiftly  sent, 
The  giant  s  bosom  tore  and  rent. 


From  every  gash  his  body  showed 
The  blood  in  foamy  torrents  flowed. 
As  springing  from  their  caverns  leap 
Swift  rivers  down  the  mountain  steep. 
When  Khara  felt  each  deadened  power 
Yielding  beneath  that  murderous  shower, 
He  charged,  infuriate  with  the  scent 
Of  blood,  in  dire  bewilderment. 
But  Rama  watched,  with  ready  bow, 
The  onset  of  his  bleeding  foe, 
And  ere  the  monster  reached  him,  drew 
Backward  in  haste  a  yard  or  two. 
Then  from  his  side  a  shaft  he  took 
Whose  mortal  stroke  no  life  might  brook  : 
Of  peerless  might,  it  bore  the  name 
Of  Brahma's  staff,  and  glowed  with  flame  : 
Lord  Indra,  ruler  of  the  skies, 
Himself  had  given  the  glorious  prize. 
His  bow  the  virtuous  hero  drew, 
And  at  the  fiend  the  arrow  flew. 
Hissing  and  roaring  like  the  blast 
Of  tempest  through  the  air  it  passed, 
And  fixed,  by  Rama's  vigour  sped, 
In  the  foe's  breast  its  pointed  head. 
Then  fell  the  fiend  :  the  quenchless  flame 
Burnt  furious  in  his  wounded  frame. 
So  burnt  by  Rudra  Andhak1  fell 
In  Svetaranya'a  silvery  dell : 
So  Namnchi  and  Vritra2  died 
By  steaming  bolts  that  tamed  their  pride  : 
So  Bala3  fell  by  lightning  sent 
By  Him  who  rules  the  firmament. 

'1  hen  all  the  Gods  in  close  array 
With  the  bright  hosts  who  sing  and  play, 
Filled  full  of  rapture  and  amaze, 
Sang  hymns  of  joy  in  Rama's  praise, 
Beat  their  celestial  drums  and  shed 
Kain  of  sweet  flowers  upon  his  head. 
For  three  short  hours  had  scarcely  flown, 
And  by  his  pointed  shafts  o'erthrown 
The  twice  seven  thousand  fiends,  whose  will 
Could  change  their  shapes,  in  death  were 

still, 

With  Trisiras  and  Duehan  slain, 
And  Khara.  leader  of  the  train. 
'  O  wondrous  deed,'  the  bards  began, 
'  The  noblest  deed  of  virtuous  man! 
Heroic  strength  that  stood  alone, 
And  firmness  e'en  as  Vishnu's  own!' 

Thus  having  sung,  the  shining  train 
Turned  to  their  heavenly  homes  again. 


1  A  demon,  son  of  Kasyap  and  Diti,  slain 
by  Rudra  or  £iva  when  he  attempted  to 
carry  off  the  tree  of  Paradise. 

2  Namnchi  and  Vritra  were  two  demons 
slain  by  Indra.  Vritra  personifies  drought, 
the  enemy  of   Indra,  who   imprisons  the 
rain  in  the  cloud. 

3  Another  demon  slain  by  Indra. 


Canto  XXXI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


205 


Then  the  high  saints  of  royal  race 
And  loftiest  station  sought  the  place, 
And  by  the  great  Agastya  led, 
With  reverence  to  llama  said  : 

'  For  this,  Lord  Indra,  glorious  sire, 
Majestic  as  the  burning  fire, 
Who  crushes  cities  in  his  rage, 
Sought  ^arabhanga's  hermitage. 
Thou  wast,  this  great  design  to  aid, 
Led  by  the  saints  to  seek  this  shade, 
And  with  thy  mighty  arm  to  kill 
The  giants  who  delight  in  ill. 
Thou,  Dasaratha's  noble  son, 
The  battle  for  our  sake  hast  won, 
And  saints  in  Dandak's  wild  who  live 
Their  days  to  holy  tasks  can  give.' 

Forth  from  the  mountain  cavern  came 
The  hero  Lakshman  with  the  dame. 
And  rapture  beaming  from  his  fa^e, 
Re.sought  the  hermit  dwelling-place. 
Then  when  the  mighty  saints  had  paid 
Due  honour  for  the  victor's  aid, 
The  glorious  Kama  honoured  too 
By  Lakshmaii  to  his  cot  withdrew. 
When  Sita  looked  upon  her  lord, 
His  foemen  slain,  the  saints  restored, 
In  pride  and  rapture  uncontrolled 
She  clasped  him  in  her  loring  hold. 
On  the  dead  fiends  her  glances  fell : 
She  saw  her  lord  alive  and  well, 
Victorious  after  toil  and  pain, 
And  Janak's  child  was  blest  again. 
Once  more,  once  more  with  new  delight 

Her  tender  arms  she  threw 
Hound  Rama  whose  victorious  might 

Had  crushed  the  demon  crew. 
Then  as  his  grateful  reverence  paid 

lilac  1 1  saint  of  lofty  soul, 
O'er  her  sweet  face,  all  fears  allayed, 

The  Hush  of  transport  stole. 

CANTO  XXXI. 


RAVAN. 

But  of  the  host  of  giants  one, 
Akampari,  from  the  field  had  run 
And  sped  to  Lanka1  to  relate 
In  Ravan's  ear  the  demons'  fate: 

4  King,  many  a  giant  from  the  shade 
Of  Janasthan  in  death  is  laid  : 
Khara  the  chief  is  slain,  and  I 
Could  scarcely  from  the  battle  fly.' 

Fierce  anger,  as  the  monarch  heard, 
Inflamed  his  look,  his  bosom  stirred, 
And  while  with  scorching  glance  he  eyed 
The  messenger,  he  thus  replied  : 

*  What  fool  has  dared,  already  dead, 
Strike  Janasthan,  the  general  dread  ? 


1  The  capital  of  the  giant  king  Kavnn, 


Who  is  the  wretch  shall  vainly  try 

In  earth,  heaven,  hell,  from  me  to  fly  ? 

Vaisravan,1   Indra,  Vishnu,  He 

Who  rules  the  dead,  must  reverence  me ; 

For  not  the  mightiest  lord  of  these 

Can  brave  my  will  and  live  at  ease. 

Fate  finds  in  me  a  mightier  fate 

To  burn  the  fires  that  devastate. 

With  unresisted  influence  I 

Can  force  e'en  Death  himself  to  die, 

With  all-surpassing  might  restrain 

The  fury  of  the  hurricane, 

And  burn  in  my  tremendous  ire 

The  glory  of  the  sun  and  fire.' 

As  thus  the  fiend's  hot  fury  blazed, 
His  trembling  hands  Akampan  raised, 
And  with  a  voice  which  fear  made  weak, 
Permission  craved  his  tale  to  speak. 
King  Ravan  gave  the  leave  he  sought. 
And  bade  him  tell  the  news  he  brought. 
His  courage  rose,  his  voice  grew  bold, 
And  thus  his  mournful  tale  he  told  : 

4  A  prince  with  mighty  shoulders,  sprung 
From  Dasaratha,  brave  and  young, 
With  arms  well  moulded,  bears  the  name 
Of  Rama  with  a  lion's  frame. 
Renowned,  successful,  dark  of  limb, 
Earth  has  no  warrior  equals  him. 
He  fought  in  Janasthan  and  slew 
Dushan  the  fierce  and  Khara  too.' 

Ravun  the  giants'  royal  chief, 
Received  Akampan's  tale  of  grief. 
Then,  panting  like  an  angry  snake, 
These  words  in  turn  the  monarch  spake  : 

'Say  quick,  didR&rna  seek  the  shade 
Of  Janasthan  with  Indra's  aid, 
And  all  the  dwellers  in  the  skies 
To  back  his  hardy  enterprise  ?' 

Akampan  heard,  and  straight  obeyed 
His  master,  and  his  answer  made. 
Then  thus  the  power  and  might  he  told 
Of  Raghu's  son  the  lofty-souled: 

'Best  is  that  chief  of  all  who  know 
With  deftest  art  to  draw  the  bow. 
His  are  strange  arms  of  heavenly  might, 
And  none  can  match  him  in  the  fight. 
His  brother  Lakshman  brave  as  he, 
Fair  as  the  rounded  moon  to  see, 
With  eyes  like  night  and  voice  that  cornea 
Deep  as  the  roll  of  beaten  drums, 
By  Rama's  side  stands  ever  near, 
Like  wind  that  aids  the  flame's  career. 
That  glorious  chief,  that  prince  of  kings, 
On  Janasthan  this  ruin  brings. 
No  Gods  were  there, — dismiss  the  thought 
No  heavenly  legions  came  and  fought. 
His  swift-winged  arrows  Rama  sent, 
fcaoh  bright  with  gold  and  ornament. 
To  serpents  many-faced  they  turned  : 

1  Kuvera,  the  God  of  gold. 


266 


RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  III. 


The  giant  hosts  they  ate  and  burned. 
Where'er  these  fled  in  wild  dismay 
Kama  was  there  to  strike  and  slay. 
By  him  O  King  of  iiigh  estate, 
Is  Janasthan  left  desolate.' 

Akampan  ceased  :  in  angry  pride 
The  giant  monarch  thus  replied  : 
'To  Janasthan  myself  will  go 
And  lay  these  daring  brothers  low.' 

Thus  spoke  the  king  in  furious  mood  : 
Akampan  then  his  speech  renewed  : 

*  O  listen  while  I  tell  at  length 
The  terror  of  the  hero's  strength. 

No  power  can  check,  no  might  can  tame 

Kama,  a  chief  of  noblest  fame. 

He  with  resistless  shafts  can  stay 

The  torrent  foaming  on  its  way. 

Sky,  stars,  and  constellations,  all 

To  his  tierce  might  would  yield  and  fall. 

His  power  could  earth  itself  uphold 

Down  sinking  as  it  sank  of  old.1 

Or  all  its  plains  and  cities  drown, 

Breaking  the  wild  sea's  barrier  down  ; 

Crush  the  great  deep's  impetuous  will, 

Or  bid  the  furious  wind  be  still. 

He  glorious  in  his  high  estate 

The  triple  world  could  devastate, 

And  there,  supreme  of  men,  could  place 

His  creatures  of  a  new-born  race. 

Never  can  mighty  Rama  be 

O'ercome  in  fight,  my  King,  by  tbee. 

Thy  giant  host  the  day  might  win 

From  him,  if  heaven  were  gained  by  sin. 

If  Gods  were  joined  with  demons,  they 

Could  ne'er,  I  ween,  that  hero  slay, 

But  guile  may  kill  the  wondrous  man ; 

Attend  while  I  disclose  the  plan. 

His  wife,  above  all  women  graced, 

Is  bita  of  the  dainty  waist. 

With  limbs  to  fair  proportion  true, 

And  a  soft  skin  of  lustrous  hue. 

Kound  neck  and  arm  rich  gems  are  twined  : 

She  is  the  gem  of  womankind. 

With  her  no  bright  Gandharvi  vies, 

Mo  nymph  or  Goddess  in  the  skies  ; 

And  none  to  rival  her  would  dare 

'Mid  dames  who  part  the  long  black  hair. 

That  hero  in  the  wood  beguile, 

And  steal  his  lovely  spouse  the  while. 

'Reft  of  his  darling  wife,  be  sure, 

Brief  days  the  mourner  will  endure.' 

With  flattering  hope  of  triumph  moved 
The  giant  king  that  plan  approved, 
Pondered  the  counsel  in  his  breast, 
And  then  Akampan  thus  addressed  : 

*  Forth  in  my  car  I  go  at  morn, 
ISione  but  the  driver  with  me  borne, 
And  this  fair  Sita  will  I  bring 
Back  to  my  city  triumphing.' 

1  In  the  great  deluge, 


Forth  in  his  car  by  asses  drawn 
The  giant  monarch  sped  at  dawn, 
Bright  as  the  sun,  the  chariot  cast 
Light  through  the  sky  as  on  it  passed. 
Then  high  in  air  that  best  of  cars 
Traversed  the  path  of  lunar  stars, 
Sending  a  iitful  radiance  pale 
As  moonbeams  shot  through  cloudy  veil. 
Far  on  his  airy  way  he  flew : 
Near  Tadakeya's1  grove  he  drew. 
Maricha  welcomed  him,  and  placed 
Before  him  food  which  giants  taste, 
With  honour  led  him  to  a  seat, 
And  brought  him  water  for  his  feet  ; 
And  then  with  timely  words  addressed 
Such  questiion  to  his  royal  guest: 

*  Speak,  is  it  well  with  thee  whose  sway 
The  giant  multitudes  obey  ? 

I  know  not  all,  arid  ask  in  fear 

The  cause,  O  King,  why  thou  art  here.' 

Kavan,  the  giants'  mighty  king, 
Heard  wise  Marioha's  questioning, 
And  told  with  ready  answer,  taught 
In  eloquence,  the  cause  he  sought: 
"  My  guards,  the  bravest  of  my  band, 
Are  slain  by  Kama's  vigorous  hand, 
And  Janasthan,  that  feared  no  hate 
Of  foes,  is  rendered  desolate. 
Come,  aid  me  in  the  plan  I  lay 
To  steal  the  conqueror's  wife  away.' 

Maricha  heard  the  king's  request, 
And  thus  the  giant  chief  addressed  : 

*  What  foe  in  friendly  guise  is  he 
Who  spoke  of  Sita's  name  to  thee  ? 
Who  is  the  wretch  whose  thought  would 

bring 

Destruction  on  the  giants'  king  ? 
Whose  is  the  evil  counsel,  say, 
That  bids  thee  bear  his  wife  away, 
And  careless  of  thy  life  provoke 
Earth's  loftiest  with  threatening  stroke  ? 
A  foe  is  he  who  dared  suggest 
This  hopeless  folly  to  thy  breast, 
Whose  ill  advice  would  bid  thee  draw 
The  venomed  fang  from  serpent's  jaw. 
By  whose  unwise  suggestion  led 
Wilt  thou  the  path  of  ruin  tread  ? 
Whence  falls  the  blow  that  would  destroy 
Thy  gentle  sleep  of  ease  and  joy  ? 
Like  some  wild  elephant  is  he 

That  rears  his  trunk  on  high, 
Lord  of  an  ancient  pedigree, 

Huge  tusk?,  and  furious  eye. 
Kavan,  no  rover  of  the  night 

With  bravest  heart  can  brook, 
Met  in  the  front  of  deadly  tight, 
On  Raghu's  son  to  look. 


1  The  giant   Maricha,  son  of   Tadaka. 
Tadaka  was  slain  by  Kama.    See  p.  39. 


nto  XXXtf. 


THE  RAMATAtf. 


267 


The  giant  hosts  were  brave  and  strong 

Good  at  the  bow  and  spear  : 
But  Kama  slew  the  routed  throng, 

A  lion  'mid  the  deer. 
No  lion's  tooth  can  match  his  sword, 

Or  arrows  fiercely  shot : 
He  sleeps,  he  sleeps — the  lion  lord  ; 

He  wiwe  and  rouse  him  not. 
O  Monarch  of  the  giants,  well 

Upon  my  counsel  think, 
Lest  thou  for  ever  in  the  hell 

Of  Rama's  vengeance  sink  : 
A  hell,  where  deadly  shafts  are  sent 

From  his  tremendous  bow, 
While  his  great  arms  all  flight  prevent 

Like  deepest  mire  below: 
Where  the  wild  floods  of  battle  rave 

Above  the  foeman's  head, 
And  each  with  many  a  feathery  wave 

Of  shafts  is  garlanded. 
O,  quench  the  flames  that  in  thy  breasi 

With  raging  fury  burn  : 
And  pacified  and  self-possessed 

To  Lanka's  town  return. 
Rest  thou  in  her  imperial  bowers 

With  thine  own  wives  content, 
And  in  the  wood  let  Rama's  hours 

With  Sita  still  be  spent.' 
The  lord  of  Lanka's  isle  obeyed 
The  counsel,  and  his  purpose  stayed. 
Home  on  his  car  he  parted  thence 
And  gained  his  royal  residence. 


CANTO  XXXII. 


RAVAN  ROUSED. 


But  Surpanakha  saw  the  plain 

Spread  with  the  fourteen  thousand  slain, 

Doers  of  cruel  deeds  o'erthrown 

By  Rama's  mighty  arm  alone, 

And  Trisiras  and  Dushan  dead, 

And  Khara,  with  the  hosts  they  led. 

Their  death  she  saw,  and  mad  with  pain, 

Roared  like  a  cloud  that  brings  the  rain, 

And  fled  in  anger  and  dismay 

To  Lanka,  seat  of  Ra van's  sway. 

There  on  a  throne  of  royal  state 

Exalted  sat  the  potentate, 

Begirt  with  counsellor  and  peer, 

Like  Indra  with  the  Storm  (Jods  near. 

Bright  as  the  sun's  full  splendour  shone 

The  glorious  throne  he  sat  upon, 

As  when  the  blazing  fire  is  red 

Upon  a  golden  altar  fed. 

Wide  gaped  his  mouth  at  every  breath, 

Tremendous  as  the  jaws  of  Death. 

With  him  high  saints  of  lofty  thought, 

Gaudharvas,  Gods,  had  vainly  fought. 


The  wounds  were  on  his  body  yet 
From  wars  where  Gods  and  demons  met. 
And  scars  still  marked  his  ample  chest 
By  fierce  Airavat's1   tusk  impressed. 
A  score  of  arms,  ten  necks,  had  he, 
His  royal  gear  was  brave  to  see. 
His  massive  form  displayed  each  sign 
That  marks  the  heir  of  kingly  line. 
In  stature  like  a  mountain  height, 
His  arms  were  strong,  his  teeth  were  white, 
And  all  his  frame  of  massive  mould 
Seemed  laxuiite  adorned  with  gold. 
A  hundred  seams  impressed  each  limp 
Where  Vishnu's  arm  had  wounded  him, 
And  chest  and  shoulder  bore  the  print 
Of  sword  and  spear  and  arrow  dint, 
Where  every  God  had  struck  a  blow 
In  battle  with  the  giant  foe. 
His  might  to  wildest  rage  could  wake 
The  sea  whose  faith  naught  else  can  shake, 
Hurl  towering  mountains  to  the  earth, 
And  crush  e'en  foes  of  heavenly  birth. 
The  bonds  of  law  and  right  he  spurned  : 
To  others'  wives  his  fancy  turned. 
Celestial  arms  he  used  in  fight, 
And  loved  to  mar  each  holy  rite. 
He  went  to  Bhogavati's  town,2 
Where  Vasuki  was  beaten  down, 
And  stole,  victorious  in  the  strife, 
Lord  Takshaka's  beloved  wife. 
Kailasa's  lofty  crest  he  sought, 
And  when  in  vain  Kuvera  fought, 
Stole  Pushpak  thence,  the  car  that  through 
The  air,  as  willed  the  master,  llew. 
Impelled  by  furious  anger,  he 
Spoiled  JSTandan's3  shade  and  Nalinf, 
And  Chaitraratha's  heavenly  grove, 
The  haunts  where  Gods  delight  to  rove. 
Tall  as  a  hill  that  cleaves  the  sky. 
He  raised  his  mighty  arms  on  high 
To  check  the  blessed  moon,  and  stay 
The  rising  of  the  Lord  of  Day. 
Ten  thousand  years  the  giant  spent 
On  dire  austerities  intent, 
And  of  his  heads  an  offering,  laid 
Before  the  Self-existent,  made. 
STo  God  or  fiend  his  life  could  take, 
jrandharva,  goblin,  bird  or  snake  : 
Safe  from  all  fears  of  death,  except 
?rom  human  arm,  that  life  was  kept. 
Oft  when  the  priests  began  to  raise 
["heir  consecrating  hymns  of  praise, 
le  spoiled  the  Soma's  sacred  juice 
^  forth  by  them  in  solemn  use. 


1  Indra's  elephant. 

2  Bhogavati,  in  Patala  in   the  regions 
nder  the  earth,  is  the  capital  of  the  serpent 
Ace  whose  king  is  Vasuki. 

3  The  grove  of  Indra. 


268 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


in. 


The  sacrifice  his  hands  o'erthrew, 
And  cruelly  the  Brahmans  slew. 
His  was  a  heart  that  naught  could  melt, 
Joying  in  woes  which  others  felt. 

She  saw  the  ruthless  monster  there, 
Dread  of  the  worlds,  unused  to  spare. 
In  robes  of  heavenly  texture  dressed, 
Celestial  wreaths  adorned  his  breast. 
He  sat  a  shape  of  terror,  like 
Destruction  ere  the  worlds  it  strike. 
She  saw  him  in  his  pride  of  place, 
The  joy  of  old  Pulastya's1  race, 
Begirt  by  counsellor  and  peer, 
Ravan,  the  foeman's  mortal  fear, 
And  terror  in  her  features  shown, 
The  giantess  approached  the  throne. 

Then  Surpanakha  bearing  yet 
Each  deeply  printed  trace 

Where  the  great-hearted  chief  had  set 
A  mark  upon  her  face, 

Impelled  by  terror  and  desire, 
Still  fierce,  no  longer  bold, 

To  Ravan  of  the  eyes  of  fire 
Her  tale,  infuriate,  told. 


CANTO  XXXIII. 


SU'RPANAKHA'S  SPEECH. 

Burning  with  anger,  in  the  ring 
Of  counsellors  who  girt  their  king, 
To  Ravan,  raven er  of  man, 
With  bitter  words  she  thus  began  : 

'  Wilt  thou  absorbed  in  pleasure,  still 
Pursue  unchecked  thy  selfish  will : 
Nor  turn  thy  heedless  eyes  to  see 
The  coming  fate  which  threatens  thee  ? 
The  king  who  days  and  hours  employs 
In  base  pursuit  of  vulgar  joys 
Must  in  his  people's  sight  be  vile 
As  tire  that  smokes  on  funeral  pile. 
He  who  when  duty  calls  him  spares 
No  time  for  thought  of  royal  cares, 
Must  with  his  realm  and  people  all 
Involved  in  fatal  ruin  fall. 
As  elephants  in  terror  shrink 
From  the  false  river's  miry  brink, 
Thus  subjects  from  a  monarch  flee 
Whose  face  their  eyes  may  seldom  see, 
Who  spends  the  hours  for  toil  ordained 
In  evil  courses  unrestrained. 
He  who  neglects  to  guard  and  hold 
His  kingdom  by  himself  controlled, 
Sinks  nameless  like  a  hill  whose  head 
Is  buried  in  the  ocean's  bed. 

1  Pulastya  is  considered  as  the  ancestor 
of  the  Rakshases  or  giants,  as  he  is  the 
father  of  Visravas,  the  father  of  Ravan 
and  his  brethren. 


Thy  foes  are  calm  and  strong  and  wise, 
Fiends,  Gods,  and  warriors  of  the  skies,— 
How,  heedlesp,  wicked,  weak,  and  vain, 
Wilt  thou  thy  kingly  state  maintain? 
Thou,  lord  of  giants,  void  of  sense, 
Slave  of  each  changing  influence, 
Heedless  of  all  that  makes  a  king, 
Destruction  on  thy  head  wilt  bring. 
O  conquering  chief,  the  prince,  who  boasts, 
Of  treasury  and  rule  and  hosts, 
By  others  led,  though  lord  of  all, 
Is  meaner  than  the  lowest  thrall. 
For  this  are  monarchs  said  to  be 
Long-sighted,  having  power  to  see 
Things  far  away  by  faithful  eyes 
Of  messengers  and  loyal  spies. 
But  aid  from  such  thou  wilt  not  seek  : 
Thy  counsellors  are  blind  and  weak, 
Or  thou  from  these  hadst  surely  known 
Thy  legions  and  thy  realm  o'erthrown. 
Know,twice  seven  thousand,  fierce  in  might, 
Are  slain  by  Rama  in  the  fight, 
And  they,  the  giant  host  who  led, 
Khara  and  Dushan,  both  are  dead. 
Know,  Rama  with' his  conquering  arm 
Has  freed  the  saints  from  dread  of  harn;, 
Has  smitten  Janasthan  and  made 
Asylum  safe  in  Dandak's  shade. 
Enslaved  and  dull, 'of  blinded  sight, 
Intoxicate  with  vain  delight, 
Thou  closest  still  thy  heedless  eyes 
To  dangers  in  thy  realm  that  rise. 
A  king  besotted,  mean,  unkind, 
Of  niggard  hand  and  slavish  mind. 
Will  find  no  faithful  followers  heed 
Their  master  in  his  hour  of  need. 
The  friend  on  whom  he  most  relies, 
In  danger,  from  a  monarch  flies, 
Imperious  in  his  high  estate, 
Conceited,  proud,  and  passionate  ; 
Who  ne'er  to  state  affairs  attends 
With  wholesome  fear  when  woe  impends, 
Most  weak  and  worthless  as  the  grass, 
Soon  from  his  sway  the  realm  will  pass. 
For  rotting  wood  a  use  is  found, 
For  clods  and  dust  that  strew  the  ground, 
But  when  a  king  has  lost  his  sway, 
Useless  he  falls,  and  sinks  for  aye. 
As  raiment  by  another  worn. 
As  faded  garland  crushed  and  torn, 
So  is,  unthroned,  the  proudest  king, 
Though  mighty  once,  a  useless  thing. 
But  he  who  every  sense  subdues 
And  each  event  observant  views, 
Rewards  the  good  and  keeps  from  wrong, 
Shall  reign  secure  and  flourish  long, 
Though  lulled  in  sleep  his  senses  lie 
He  watches  with  a  ruler's  eye, 
Untouched  by  favour,  ire,  and  hate, 
And  him  the  people  celebrate. 
O  weak  of  mind,  without  a  trace 


Canto  XXXIV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


269 


Of  virtues  that  a  king  should  grace, 
Who  hast  not  learnt  from  watchful  spy 
That  low  in  death  the  giants  lie. 
Scorner  of  others,  but  enchained 

By  every  base  desire, 
By  thee  each  duty  is  disdained 

Which  time  and  place  require. 
Soon  wilt  thou,  if  them  canst  not  learn, 

Ere  yet  it  be  too  late, 
The  good  from  evil  to  discern, 

Fall  from  thy  high  estate.' 
As  thus  she  ceased  not  to  upbraid 

The  king  with  cutting  speech. 
And  every  fault  to  view  displayed, 

Naming  and  marking  each, 
The  monarch  of  the  sons  of  night, 
Of  wealth  and  power  possessed, 
And  proud  of  his  imperial  might, 
Long  pondered  in  his  breast. 


CANTO  XXXIV. 


SU'RPANAKHA'S   SPEECH. 


Then  forth  the  giant's  fury  broke 
As  Surpanakha  harshly  spoke. 
Girt  by  his  lords  the  demon  king 
Looked  on  her,  fiercely  questioning  : 

*  Who  is  this  Kama,  whence,  and  where? 
His  form,  his  might,  his  deeds  declare. 
His  wandering  steps  what  purpose  led 

To  Dandak  forest,  hard  to  tread  I 

What  arms  are  his  that  he  could  smite 

In  fray  the  rovers  of  the  night, 

And  Trisiras  and  Dushan  lay 

Low  on  the  earth,  and  Khara  slay  ? 

Tell  all,  my  sister,  and  declare 

Who  maimed  thee  thus,  of  form  most  fair.' 

Thus  by  the  giant  king  addressed, 
While  burnt  her  fury  un repressed, 
The  giantess  declared  at  length 
The  hero's  form  and  deeds  and  strength  : 

*  Long  are  his  arms  and  large  his  eyes  : 
A  black  deer's  skin  his  dress  supplies. 
King  Dasaratha's  son  is  he, 

Fair  as  Kandarpa's  self  to  see. 
Adorned  with  many  a  golden  band, 
A  bow,  like  Indra's,  arms  his  hand, 
And  shoots  a  flood  of  arrows  tierce 
As  venomed  snakes  to  burn  and  pierce. 
I  looked,  I  looked,  but  never  saw 
His  mighty  hand  the  bowstring  draw 
That  sent  the  deadly  arrows  out, 
While  rang  through  air  his  battle-shout. 
I  looked,  I  looked,  and  saw  too  well 
How  with  that  hail  the  giants  fell, 
As  falls  to  earth  the  golden  grain, 
Struck  by  the  blows  of  Indra's  rain. 
He  fought,  and  twice  seven  thousand,  all 
Terrific  giants,  strong  and  tall, 


Fell  by  the  pointed  shafts  o'erbhrown 
Which  Rama  shot  on  foot,  alone. 
Three  little  hours  had  scarcely  fled, — 
Khara  and  Dushan  both  were  dead, 
And  he  had  freed  the  saints  and  made 
Asylum  sure  in  Dandak's  shade. 
Me  of  his  grace  the*  victor  spared, 
Or  I  the  giants'  fate  had  shared. 
The  high-souled  Rtirna  would  riot  deign 
His  hand  with  woman's  blood  to  stain. 
Tne  glorious  Lakshman,  justly  dear, 
In  gifts  arid  warrior  might  his  peer, 
Serves  his  great  brother  with  the  whole 
Devotion  of  his  faithful  soul  : 
Impetuous  victor,  bold  and  wise, 
First  in  each  hardy  enterprise, 
Still  ready  by  his  side  to  stand, 
A  second  self  or  better  hand. 
And  Rama  has  a  large-eyed  spouse, 
Pure  as  the  moon  her  cheek  and  brows, 
Dearer  than  life  in  Rfima's  sight, 
Whose  happiness  is  her  delight. 
With  beauteous  hair  and  nose  the  dame 
From  head  to  foot  has  naught  to  blame. 
She   shines   the  wood's   bright    Goddess, 

Que^n 

Of  beauty  with  her  noble  mien. 
First  in  the  ranks  of  women  placed 
Is  Sita  of  the  dainty  waist. 
In  all  the  earth  mine  eyes  have  ne'er 
Seen  female  form  so  sweetly  fair. 
Goddess  nor  nymph  can  vie  with  her, 
Nor  bride  of  heavenly  chorister. 
He  who  might  call  this  dame  his  own, 
Her  eager  arms  about  him  thrown, 
Would  live  more  blest  in  Sita's  love 
Than  Indra  in  the  world  above. 
She,  peerless  in  her  form  and  face 
And  rich  in  every  gentle  grace, 
Is  worthy  bride,  O  King,  for  thee, 
As  thou  art  meet  her  lord  to  be. 
I  even  I,  will  bring  the  bride 
In  triumph  to  her  lover's  side — 
Tin's  beauty  fairer  than  the  rest, 
With  rounded  limb  and  heaving  breast. 
Each  wound  upon  my  face  I  owe 
To  cruel  Lakshman's  savage  blow. 
But  thou,  O  brothe'r,  shalt  survey 
Her  moonlike  loveliness  to-day, 
And  Kama's  piercing  shafts  shall  smite 
Thine  amorous  bosom  at  the  sight. 
If  in  thy  breast  the  longing  rise 
To  make  thine  own  the  beauteous  prize, 
Up,  let  thy  better  foot  begin 
The  journey  and  the  treasure  win. 
If,  giant  Lord,  thy  favouring  eyes 
Regard  the  plan  which  I  advise, 
Up,  cast  all  fear  and  doubt  away 
And  execute  the  words  I  say. 
Come,  giant  King,  this  treasure  seek, 
For  thou  art  strong  and  they  are  weak. 


270 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  III. 


Let  Sit &  of  the  faultless  frame 
Be  borne  away  and  be  thy  darne. 
Tby  host  in  Janasthan  who  dwelt 

Forth  to  the  battle  hied, 
And  by  the  shafts  which  Rama  dealt 

They  perished  in  their  pride. 
Dushan  and  Khara  breathe  no  more, 

Laid' low  upon  the  plain. 
Arise,  and  ere  the  day  be  o'er 

Take  vengeance  for  the  slain.' 


CANTO  XXXV. 


RAVAN'S  JOURNEY. 

When  Ravan,  by  her  fury  spurred, 

That  terrible  advice  had  heard, 

He  bade  his  nobles  quit  his  side, 

And  to  the  work  his  thought  applied. 

He  turned  his  anxious  mind  to  scan 

On  every  sire  the  hardy  plan  : 

The  gain  against  the  risk  he  laid, 

Each  hope  and  fear  with  care  surveyed, 

And  in  his  heart  at  length  decreed 

To  try  performance  of  the  deed. 

Then  steady  in  his  dire  intent 

The  giant  to  the  courtyard  went. 

There  to  his  charioteer  he  cried, 

*  Bring  forth  the  car  whereon  !  ride,' 

Aye  ready  at  his  master's  word 

The  charioteer  the  order  heard. 

And  yoked  with  active  zeal  the  best 

Of  chariots  at  his  lord's  behest. 

Asses  witli  heads  of  goblins  drew 

That  wondrous  car  where'er  it  flew. 

Obedient  to  the  will  it  rolled 

Adorned  with  gems  and  glistering  gold. 

Then  mounting,  with  a  roar  as  loud 

As  thunder  from  a  labouring  cloud, 

The  mighty  monarch  to  the  tide 

Of  Ocean,  lord  of  rivers,  hied. 

White  was  the  shade  above  him  spread, 

White  chouris  waved  around  his  head, 

And  he  with  gold  and  jewels  bright 

Shone  like  the  glossy  lazulite. 

Ten  necks  and  twenty  arms  had  he  : 

His  royal  gear  was  good  to  see. 

The  heavenly  Gods'  insatiate  foe. 

Who  made  the  blood  of  hermits  flow, 

He  like  the  Lord  of  Hills  appeared 

With  ten  huge  heads  to  heaven  upreared. 

In  the  great  car  whereon  he  rode, 

Like  some  dark  cloud  the  giant  showed, 

When  round  it  in  their  close  array 

The  cranes  'mid  wreaths  of  lightning  play 

He  looked,  and  saw.  from  realms  of  air, 

The  rocky  shore  of  ocean,  where 

Unnumbered  trees  delightful  grew 

With  flower  and  fruit  of  every  hue. 


He  looked  on  many  a  lilied  pool 
j  With  silvery  waters  fresh  and  cool, 
And  shores  like  spacious  altars  meet 
For  holy  hermits'  lone  retreat. 
The  graceful  palm  adorned  the  scene, 
The  plantain  waved  her  glossy  green. 
I  There  grew  the  sal  and  betel,  there 
I  On  bending  boughs  the  flowers  were  fair. 
|  There  herrniis  dwelt  who  tamed  each  sense 
By  strictest  rule  of  abstinence  : 
Gandharvas,  Kinnars,1  thronged  the  place, 
Nagas  and  birds  of  heavenly  race. 
Bright  minstrels  of  the  ethereal  quire, 
And  saints  exempt  from  low  desire, 
With  Ajas,  sons  of  Brahma's  line, 
Marichipas  of  seed  divine, 
Vaikhanasas  and  Mashas  strayed, 
And  Balakhilyas*  in  the  shade. 
The  lovely  nymphs  of  heaven  were  there, 
Celestial  wreaths  confined  their  hair, 
And  to  each  form  new  grace  was  lent 
By  wealth  of  heavenly  ornament. 
Well  skilled  was  each  in  play  and  dance 
And  gentle  arts  of  dalliance. 
The  glorious  wife  of  many  a  God 
Those  beautiful  recesses  trod, 
There  Gods  and  Danavs,  all  who  eat 
The  food  of  heaven,  rejoiced  to  meet. 
The  swan  and  Saras  thronged  each  bay 
With  curlews,  ducks,  and  divers  gay, 
Where  the  sea  spray  rose  soft  and  white 
O'er  rocks  of  glossy  lazulite. 
As  his  swift  way  the  fiend  pursued 
Pale  chariots  of  the  Gods  he  viewed, 
Bearing  each  lord  whose  rites  austere 
Had  raised  him  to  the  heavenly  sphere. 
Thereon  celestial  garlands  hung, 
There  music  played  and  songs  were  sung. 
Then  bright  Gandharvas  met  his  view, 
And  heavenly  nymphs,  as  on  he  flew. 
He  saw  the  sandal  woods  below, 
And  precious  trees  of  odorous  flow, 
That  to  the  air  around  them  lent 
Their  riches  of  delightful  scent ; 
Nor  failed  his  roving  eye  to  mark 
Tall  aloe  trees  in  grove  and  park. 
He  looked  on  wood  with  cassias  filled, 
And  plants  which  balmy  sweets  distilled, 
Where  her  fair  flowers  the  betel  showed 
And  the  bright  pods  of  pepper  glowed. 
The  pearls  in  many  a  silvery  heap 
Lay  on  the  margin  of  the  deep. 
And  grey  rocks  rose  amid  the  red 
Of  coral  washed  from  ocean's  bed. 


1  Beings  with  the  body  of  a  man  and  the 
head  of  a  horse. 

2  Ajas,   Marichipas,  Vaikhanasas,  Ma- 
shas, and  Balakhilyas  are  classes  of  super- 
natural beings  who  lead  the  lives  of  her- 
mits. 


Canto  XXXVI. 


TUE  RAM  AY  AN. 


271 


High  soared  the  mountain  peaks  that  bore 

Treasures  of  gold  and  silver  ore, 

And  leaping  down  the  rock}'  walls 

Came  wild  and  glorious  waterfalls. 

Fair  towns  which  grain  and  treasure  held, 

And  dames  who  every  gem  excelled, 

He  saw  outspread  beneath  him  far, 

With  steed,  and  elephant,  and  car. 

That  ocean  shore  he  viewed  that  showed 

Fair  as  the  blessed  Gods'  abode 

Where  cool  delightful  breezes  played 

O'er  levels  in  the  freshest  shade. 

He  saw  a  fig-tree  like  a  cloud 

With  mighty  branches  earthward  bowed. 

It  stretched  a  hundred  leagues  and  made 

For  hermit  bands  a  welcome  shade. 

Thither  the  feathered  king  of  yore 

An  elephant  arid  tortoise  bore, 

And  lighted  on  a  bough  to  eat 

The  captives  of  his  taloned  feet. 

The  bough  unable  to  sustain 

The  crushing  weight  and  sudden  strain, 

Loaded  with  sprays  and  leaves  of  spring 

Gave  way  beneath  the  feathered  king. 

Under  the  shadow  of  the  tree 

Dwelt  many  a  saint  and  devotee, 

Ajas,  the  sons  of  Brahma's  line, 

Mashas  Marichipas  divine. 

Vaikhanasas,  and  all  the  race 

Of  BaJakhilyHS,  loved  the  place. 

But  pitying  their  sad  estate 

The  feathered  monarch  raised  the  weight 

Of  the,  huge  bough,  and  bore  away 

Tiie  loosened  load  and  captured  prey. 

A  hundred  leagues  away  he  sped, 

Then  on  his  monstrous  booty  fed, 

And  with  the  bough  he  smote  the  lands 

Where  dwell  the  wild  Nishada  bands. 

High  joy  was  his  because  his  deed 

From  jeopardy  the  hermits  freed. 

That  pride  for  great  deliverance  wrought 

A  double  share  of  valour  brought. 

His  soul  conceived  the  high  emprise 

To  snatch  the  Amrit  from  the  skies. 

"He  rent  the  nets  of  iron  first, 

Then  through  the  jewel  chamber  burst, 

And  bore  the  drink  of  heaven  away 

That  watched  in  Lidra's  palace  lay. 

such  was  the  hermit-sheltering  tree 
Which  Ravan  turned  his  eye  to  see. 
Still  marked  where  Garud  sought  to  rest, 
The  fig-tree  bore  the  name  of  West. 

When  Ravan  stayed  his  chariot  o'er 
The  ocean's  heart-enchanting  shore, 
He  saw  a  hermitage  that  stood 
Sequestered  in  the  holy  wood. 
He  saw  the  fiend  Maricha  there 
With  deerskin  garb,  and  matted  hair 
Coiled  up  in  hermit  guise,  who  spent 
His  days  by  rule  most  abstinent. 
As  guest  and  host  are  wout  to  meet, 


They  met  within  that  lone  retreat. 
Before  the  king  Maricha  placed 
Food  never  known  to  human  taste. 
He  entertained  his  guest  with  meat 
And  gave  him  water  for  his  feet. 
And  then  addressed  the  giant  king 
With  timely  words  of  questioning  : 

'  Lord,  is  "it  well  with  thee,  and  well 
With  those  in  Lanka's  town  who  dwell* 
What  sudden  thought,  what  urgent  need 
Has  brought  thee  with  impetuous  speed  ? T 

The  fiend  Maricha  thus  addressed 
Ravan  the  king,  his  mighty  guest, 
And  he,  well  skilled  in  arts  that  guide 
The  eloquent,  in  turn  replied  : 

CANTO  XXXVI. 


EAVAN'S  SPEECH. 

'  Hear  me,  Maricha,  while  I  speak, 
And  tell  thee  why  thy  home  I  seek. 
Sick  and  distressed  am  I,  and  see 
My  surest  hope  and  help  in  thee. 
Of  Janasthan  I  need  not  tell, 
Where  Surpanakha,  Khara.  dwell, 
And  Dushan  with  the  arm  of  might, 
And  Trisiras,  the  fierce  in  fight, 
Who  feeds  on  human  flesh  and  gore, 
And  many  noble  giants  more, 
Who  roam  in  dark  of  midnight  through 
The  forest,  brave  and  strong  and  true. 
By  my  command  they  live  at  ease 
And  slaughter  saints  and  devotees. 
Those  twice  seven  thousand  giants,  all 
Obedient  t  >  their  captain's  call, 
Joying  in  war  and  ruthless  deeds 
Follow  where  mighty  Khara  leads. 
Those  fearless  warrior  bands  who  roam 
Through  Janasthan  their  forest  home, 
In  all  their  terrible  array 
Met  Rama  in  the  battle  frav. 
Girt  with  all  weapons  forth  they  sped 
With  Khara  at  the  army's  head. 
The  front  of  battle  Rama  held  : 
With  furious  wrath  his  bosom  swelled. 
Without  a  word  his  hate  to  show 
He  launched  the  arrows  from  his  bow. 
On  th«  fierce  hosts  the  missiles  came. 
Each  burning  with  destructive  flame. 
The  twice  seven  thousand  fell  o'erthrown 
By  him,  a  man,  on  foot,  alone. 
Khara  the  army's  chief  and  pride, 
And  Dushan,  fearless  warrior,  died, 
And  Trisiras  the  tierce  was  slain, 
And  Dandak  wood  was  free  again. 

He,  ba'nished  by  his  angry  sire. 
Roams  with  his  wife  in  mean  attire. 
This  wretch,  his  Warrior  tribe's  disgrace, 
Has  slain  the  best  of  giant  race. 


272 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  111. 


Harsh,  wicked,  fierce  and  greedy-souled, 
A  fool,  with  senses  uncontrolled, 
No  thought  of  duty  stirs  his  breast: 
He  joys  to  see  the  world  distressed. 
He  sought  the  wood  with  fair  pretence 
Of  truthf  ul  life  and  innocence, 
But  his  false  hand  my  sister  left 
Mangled,  of  nose  and  ears  bereft. 
This  Rama's  wife  who  bears  the  name 
Of  Sita,  in  her  face  and  frame 
Fair  as  a  daughter  of  tlie  skies, — 
Her  will  I  seize  and  bring  the  prize 
Triumphant  from  the  forest  shade: 
For  this  I  seek  thy  willing  aid. 
If  thou,  O  mighty  one,  wilt  lend 
Thy  heip  and  stand  beside  thy  friend, 
I  with  my  brothers  may  defy 
All  Gods  embattled  in  the  sky. 
Come,  aid  me  now,  for  thine  the  power 
To  succour  in  the  doubtful  hour. 
Thou  art  in  war  and  time  of  fear, 
For  heart  and  hand,  without  a  peer. 
For  thou  art  skilled  in  art  and  wile, 
A  warrior  brave  and  trained  in  guile. 
With  this  one  hope,  this  only  aim, 
O  Rover  of  the  .Night,  I  cume. 
Now  let  me  tell  what  aid  I  ask 
To  back  me  in  my  purposed  task. 
In  semblance  of  a  golden  deer 
Adorned  with  silver  spots  appear. 
Go,  seek  his  dwelling  :  in  the  way 
Of  Rama  and  his  consort  stray. 
Doubt  not  the  lady,  when  she  sees 
The  wondrous  deer  amid  the  trees, 
Will  bid  her  lord  and  Lakshman  take 
The  creature  for  its  beauty's  sake. 
Then  when  the  chiefs  have  parted  thence, 
And  left  her  lone,  without  defence, 
As  Rahu  storms  the  moonlight.  I 
Will  seize  the  lovely  dame  and  fly. 
Her  lord  will  waste  away  and  weep 
For  her  his  valour  could  not  keep. 
Then  boldly  will  I  strike  the  blow 
And  wreak  my  vengeance  on  the  foe,' 

When  wise  Marie  ha  heard  the  tale 
His  heart  grew  faint,  his  cheek  was  pale, 
He  stared  with  open  orbs,  and  tried 
To  moisten  lips  which  terror  dried, 
And  grief,  like  death,  his  bosom  rent 
As  on  the  king  his  look  he  bent. 
The  monarch's  will  he  strove  to  stay, 
Distracted  with  alarm, 

For  well  he  knew  the  might  that  lay 
In  Rama's  matchless  arm. 

With  suppliant  hands  Maricha  stood 
And  thus  began  to  tell 

His  counsel  for  the  tyrant's  good, 
A iid  for  his  own  as  well : 


CANTO  XXXVII. 

MARFCHA'S  SPEECH. 

Maricha  gave  attentive  ear 

The  ruler  of  the  fiends  to  hear  : 

Then,  trained  in  all  tho  rules  that  teach 

The  eloquent,  began  his  speech  : 

'  'Tis  easy  task,  O  King,  to  find 

Smooth  speakers  who  delight  the  mind. 

But  they  who  urge  and  they  who  do 

Distasteful  things  and  wise,  are  few. 

Thou  hast  not  learnt,  by  proof  untaught, 

And  borne  away  by  eager  thought, 

That  Rama,  formed  for  high  emprise, 

With  Varun  or  with  Indra  vies. 

Still  let  thy  people  live  in  peace, 

Nor  let  their  name  and  lineage  cease, 

For  Rama  with  his  vengeful  hand 

Can  sweep  the  giants  from  the  laud. 

O,  let  not  Janak's  daughter  bring 

Destruction  on  the  giant  king. 

Let  not  the  lady  Sita  wake 

A  tempest,  on  thy  head  to  break. 

Still  let  the  dame,  by  care  untried, 

Be  happy  by  her  husband's  side, 

Lest  swift  avenging  ruin  fall 

On  glorious  Lanka,  thee,  and  all. 

Men  such  as  thou  with  wills  unchained, 

Advised  by  sin  and  unrestrained, 

Destroy  themselves,  the  kin^,  the  state, 

And  leave  the  people  desolate. 

Rama,  in  bonds  of  duty  held, 

Was  never  by  his  sire  expelled. 

He  is  no  wretch  of  greedy  mind, 

Dishonour  of  his  Warrior  kind. 

Free  from  all  touch  of  rancorous  spite, 

All  creatures'  good  is  his  delight. 

He  saw  his  sire  of  truthful  heart 

Deceived  by  Queen  Kaikeyi's  art, 

And  said,  a  true  and  duteous  son, 

'  What  thou  hast  promised  shall  be  done.' 

To  gratify  the  lady's  will, 

His  father's  promise  to  fulfil, 

He  left  his  realm  arid  all  delight 

For  Dandak  wood,  an  anchorite. 

No  cruel  wretch,  no  senseless  fool 

Is  Rama,  unrestrained  by  rule. 

This    groundless  charge    has  ne'er  been 

heard, 
Nor  shouldst  thou  speak  the  slanderous 

word. 

Rama  in  truth  and  goodness  bold 
Is  Virtue's  self  in  human  mould, 
The  sovereign  of  the  world  confessed 
As  Indra  rules  among  the  Blest. 
And  dost  thou  plot  from  him  to  rend 
The  darling  whom  his  arms  defend  ? 
Less  vain  the  hope  to  steal  away 
The  glory  of  the  Lord  of  Day. 


Canto  XXX VI II. 


THE  RAM  AT  AN. 


273 


O  Ravan,  guard  thee  from  the  fire 

Of  vengeful  Rama's  kindled  ire, — 

Each  spark  a  shaft  with  deadly  aim, 

While  bow  and  falchion  feed  the  flame. 

Cast  not  away  in  hopeless  strife 

Thy  realm,  thy  bliss,  thine  own  dear  life. 

O  Ravan  of  his  might  beware, 

A  God  of  Death  who  will  not  spare. 

That  bow  he  knows  so  well  to  draw 

Is  the  destroyer's  flaming  jaw, 

And  with  his  shafts  which  flash  and  glow 

He  slays  the  armies  of  the  foe. 

Thou  ne'er  canst  win — the  thought  forego — 

From  the  safe  guard  of  shaft  and  bow 

King  Janak's  child,  the  dear  delight 

Of  Rama  unapproached  in  might. 

The  spouse  of  Kaghu's  son,  confessed 

Lion  of  men  with  lion  chest, — 

Dearer  than  life,  through  good  and  ill 

Devoted  to  her  husband's  will, 

The  slender- waisted,  still  must  be 

From  thy  polluting  touches  free. 

Far  better  grasp  with  venturous  hand 

The  flame  to  wildest  fury  fanned. 

What,  King  of  giants,  canst  thou  gain 

From  this  attempt  so  wild  and  vain? 

If  in  the  fight  his  eye  he  bend 

Upon  thee,  Lord,  thy  days  must  end, 

So  life  and  bliss  and  royal  sway, 

Lost  beyond  hope,  will  pass  away. 

Summon  each  lord  of  high  estate, 

And  chief,  Vibhishan1  to  debate. 

With  peers  in  lore  of  counsel  tried 

Consider,  reason,  and  decide. 

Scan  strength  and  weakness,  count  the  cost, 

What  may  be  gained  and  what  be  lost. 

Examine  and  compare  aright 

Thy  proper  power  and  Rama's  might, 

Then  if  thy  weal  be  still  thy  care. 

Thou  wilt  be  prudent  and  forbear. 

O  giant  King,  the  contest  shun, 

Thy  force  is  all  too  weak 
The  lord  of  Kosal's  mighty  son 

In  deadly  fray  to  seek. 
King  of  the  hosts  that  rove  at  night, 

( )  hear  what  I  advise : 
My  prudent  counsel  do  not  slight ; 

Be  patient  and  be  wise.' 


1  *  The  younger  brother  of  the  giant 
Ravan  ;  when  he  and  his  brother  had 
practiced  austerities  for  a  long  series  of 
years,  Brahma  appeared  to  offer  them 
boons  :  Vibhishana  asked  that  he  might 

never  meditate  any  unrighteousness 

On  the  death  of  Ravan  Vibhishana  was 
installed  as  R&ja  of  Lanka?  GAKRETT'S 
Classical  Dictionary  of  India. 


CANTO  XXXVIII. 


MARI'CHA'S  SPEECH. 

*  Once  in  my  strength  and  vigour's  pride 
I  roamed  this  earth  from  side  to  side. 
And  towering  like  a  mountain's  crest, 
A  thousand  Sagas'1  might  possessed. 
Like  some  vast  sable  cloud  I  showed : 
My  golden  armlets  flashed  and  glowed. 
A  crown  I  wore,  an  axe  I  swayed, 
And  all  I  met  were  sore  afraid. 
I  roved  where  Dandak  wood  is  spread  ; 
On  flesh  of  slaughtered  saints  I  fed. 
Then  Visvamitra,  sage  revered, 
Holy  of  heart,  my  fury  feared. 
To  Dasaratha's  court  he  sped 
And  went  before  the  king  and  said  :* 

'  With  me,  my  lord,  thy  Rama  send 
On  holy  days  his  aid  to  lend. 
Maricha  tills  my  soul  with  dread 
And  keeps  me  sore  disquieted.' 

The  monarch  heard  the  saint's  request 
And  thus  the  glorious  sage  addressed  : 

1  My  boy  as  yet  in  arms  untrained 
The  age  of  twelve  has  scarce  attained. 
But  I  myself  a  host  will  lead 
To  guard  thee  in  the  hour  of  need. 
My  host  with  fourfold  troops  complete, 
The  rover  of  the  night  shall  meet, 
And  I,  O  best  of  saints,  will  kill 
Thy  foeman  and  thy  prayer  fulfil.' 
The  king  vouchsafed  his  willing  aid  : 
The  saint  again  this  answer  made : 

'By  Rama's  might,  and  his  alone, 
Can  this  great  fiend  be  overthrown. 
I  know  in  days  of  yore  the  Blest 
Thy  saving  help  in  tight  confessed. 
Still  of  thy  famous  deeds  they  tell 
In  heaven  above,  in  earth,  and  hell, 
A  mighty  host  obeys  thy  hest : 
Here  let  it  still,  I  pray  thee,  rest. 
Thy  glorious  son,  though  yet  a  boy, 
Will  in  the  fight  that  tiend  destroy. 
Rama  alone  with  me  shall  go  : 
Be  happy,  victor  of  the  foe.' 

He  spoke  :  the  monarch  gave  assent, 
And  Rama  to  the  hermit  lent. 
So  to  his  woodland  home  in  joy 
Went  Visvamitra  with  the  boy. 
With  ready  bow  the  champion  stood 
To  guard  the  rites  in  Dandak  wood. 
With  glorious  eyes,  most  bright  to  view, 
Beardless  as  yet  and  dark  of  hue  ; 
A  single  robe  his  only  wear, 
His  temples  veiled  with  waving  hair, 

'  Serpent -gods, 
»  See  p.  33. 


274 


THE  RAM  A  VAN. 


Hook  III. 


Around  his  neck  a  chain  of  gold, 

He  grasped  the  bow  he  loved  to  hold; 

And  the  young  hero's  presence  made 

A  glory  in  the  forest  shade. 

Thus  Rama  with  his  beauteous  mien, 

Like  the  young  rising  moon  was  seen. 

I,  like  a  cloud  which  tempest  brings* 

My  arms  adorned  with  golden  rings, 

Proud  of  the  boon  which  lent  me  might, 

Approached  where  dwelt  the  anchorite. 

Bufc  Rama  saw  me  venturing  nigh, 

Baising  my  murderous  axe  on  high  ; 

He  saw,  and  fearless  of  the  foe, 

Strung  with  calm  hand  his  trusty  bow. 

By  pride  of  conscious  strength  beguiled, 

I  scorned  him  as  a  feeble  child, 

And  rushed  with  an  impetuous  bound 

On  Visvamitra's  holy  ground. 

A  keen  swift  shaft  he  pointed  well, 

The  foeman's  rage  to  check  and  quell, 

And  hurled  a  hundred  leagues  away 

Deep  in  the  ocean  waves  I  lay. 

He  would  not  kill,  but,  nobly  brave, 

My  forfeit  life  he  chose  to  save. 

So  there  I  lay  with  wandering  sense 

Dazed  by  that  arrow's  violence. 

Long  in  the  sea  I  lay  :  at  length 

Slowly  returned  my  sense  and  strength, 

And  rising  from  my  watery  bed 

To  Lanka's  town  again  I  sped. 

Thus  was  I  spared,  but  all  my  band 

Fell  slain  by  Rama's  conquering  hand, — 

A  boy,  untrained  in  warrior  skill, 

Of  iron  arm  and  dauntless  will. 

If  thou  with  Rama  still,  in  spite 

Of  warning  and  of  prayer,  wilt  tight, 

I  see  terrific  woes  impend, 

And  dire  defeat  thy  days  will  end. 

Thy  gjants  all  will' feel  the  blow 

And  share  the  fatal  overthrow, 

Who  love  the  taste  of  joy  and  play, 

The  banquet  and  the  festal  day. 

Thine  eyes  will  see  destruction  take 

Thy  Lanka,  lost  for  Sitsvs  sake, 

And  stately  pile  and  palace  fall 

With  terrace,  dome,  and  jewelled  wall. 

The  good  will  die  :  the  crime  of  kings 

Destruction  on  the  people  brings  : 

The  sinless  die,  as  in  the  lake 

The  fish  must  perish  with  the  snake. 

The  prostrate  giants  thou  wilt  see 

Slain  for  this  folly  wrought  by  thee. 

Their  bodies  bright  with  precious  scent 

Arid  sheen  of  heavenly  ornament  ; 

Or  see  the  remnant  of  thy  train 

Seek  refuge  far,  when  help  is  vain, 

And  with  their  wives,  or  widowed,  fly 

To  every  quarter  of  the  sky  ; 

Thy  mournful  eyes,  where'er  they  turn, 

Will  see  thy  stately  city  burn, 

When  royal  homes  with  fire  are  red, 


And  arrowy  nets  around  are  spread. 
A  sin  that  tops  all  sins  in  shame 
Is  outrage  to  another's  dame. 
A  thousand  wives  thy  palace  fill, 
And  countless  beauties  wait  thy  will. 

0  rest  contented  with  thine  own, 
Nor  let  thy  race  be  overthrown. 
If  thou,  O  King,  hast  still  delight 

In  rank  and  wealth  and  power  and  might, 
In  noble  wives,  in  troops  of  friends, 
In  all  that  royal  state  attends, 

1  warn  thee,  cast  not  all  away, 
Nor  challenge  Rama  to  the  fray. 
If  deaf  to  every  friendly  prayer, 

Thou  still  wilt  seek  the  strife, 
And  from  the  side  of  Rama  tear 

His  lovely  Maithil  wife, 
Soon  will  thy  life  and  empire  end 

Destroyed  by  Rama's  bow, 
And  thou,  with  kith  and  kin  and  friend, 

To  llama's  realm  must  go.' 

CANTO  XXXIX. 


MARI'CHA'S  SPEECH. 

'I  told  thee  of  that  dreadful  day 
When  Rama  smote  and  spared  to  slay. 
Now  hear  me,  Ravan,  while  I  tell 
What  in  the  after  time  befell. 
At  length,  restored  to  strength  and  pride, 
1  and  two  mighty  fiends  beside 
Assumed  the  forms  of  deer  and  strayed 
Through  Dandak  wood  in  lawn  and  glade. 
I  reared  terri'tic  horns:  beneath 
Were  flaming  tongue  and  pointed  teeth, 
I  roamed  where'er  my  fancy  led, 
And  on  the  flesh  of  hermits  fed, 
In  sacred  haunt,  by  hallowed  tree. 
Where'er  the  ritual  fires  might  be. 
A  fearful  shape,  I  wandered  through 
The  wood,  and  many  a  hermit  slew. 
With  ruthless  rage  the  saints  I  killed 
Who  in  the  grove  their  tasks  fulfilled. 
When  smitten  to  the  earth  they  sank, 
Their  flesh  I  ate,  their  blood  1  drank, 
And  with  my  cruel  deeds  dismayed 
All  dwellers  in  the  forest  shade, 
Spoiling  their  rites  in  bitter  hate, 
With  human  blood  inebriate. 
Once  in  the  wood  I  chanced  to  see 
Rama  again,  a  devotee, 
A  hermit,  fed  on  scanty  fare, 
Who  made  the  good  of  all  his  care. 
His  noble  wife  was  by  his  side, 
And  Lakshman  in  the  battle  tried. 
In  senseless  pride  I  scorned  the  might 
Of  that  illustrious  anchorite, 
And  heedless  of  a  hermit  foe, 
Recalled  my  earlier  overthow. 


Canto  XL. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


275 


I  charged  him  in  my  rage  and  scorn 
To  slay  him  with  my  pointed  horn, 
In  heedless  haste,  to  fury  wrought 
As  on  my  former  wounds  I  thought. 
Then  from  the  mighty  bow  he  drew 
Three  foe-destroying  arrows  flew, 
Keen -pointed,  leaping  from  the  string 
Swift  as  the  wind  or  feathered  king. 
Dire  shafts,  on  flesh  of  foemen  fed, 
Like  rushing  thunderbolts  they  sped. 
With  knots  well  smoothed  and  barbs  well 

bent, 

Shot  e'en  as  one,  the  arrows  went. 
But  I  who  Rama's  might  had  felt, 
And  knew  the  blows  the  hero  dealt, 
Escaped  by  rapid  flight.    The  two 
Who  lingered  on  the  spot,  he  slew. 
I  fled  from  mortal  danger,  freed 
From  the  dire  shaft  by  timely  speed. 
Now  to  deep  thought  my  days  I  give, 
And  as  a  humble  hermit  live. 
In  every  shrub,  in  every  tree 
I  view  that  noblest  devotee. 
In  every  knotted  trunk  I  mark 
His  deerskin  and  his  coat  of  bark, 
And  see  the  bow-armed  Rama  stand 
Like  Yama  with  his  noose  in  hand. 
I  tell  thee  Ravan,  in  ray  fright 
A  thousand  Ramas  mock  my  sight. 
This  wood  with  every  bush  and  bough 
Seems  all  one  fearful  Rama  now. 
Throughout  the  grove  there  is  no  spot 
So  lonely  where  I  see  him  not. 
He  haunts  me  in  my  dreams  by  night, 
And  wakes  me  with  the  wild  affright. 
The  letter  that  begins  his  name 
Sends  terror  through  my  startled  frame. 
The  rapid  cars  whereon  we  ride, 
The  rich  rare  jewels,  once  my  pride, 
Have  names1  that  strike  upon  mine  ear 
With  hated  sound  that  counsels  fear. 
His  mighty  strength  too  well  I  know, 
Nor  art  thou  match  for  such  a  foe. 
Too  strong  were  Raghus's  son  in  fight 
For  Namuchi  or  Bali's  might. 
Then  Rama  to  the  battle  dare, 
Or  else  be  patient  and  forbear  ; 
But,  wouldst  thou  see  me  live  in  peace, 
Let  mention  of  the  hero  cease. 
The  good  whose  holy  lives  were  spent 
In  deepest  thought,  most  innocent, 
With  all  their  people  many  a  time 
Have  perished  through  another's  crime. 
So  in  the  common  ruin,  I 
Must  for  another's  folly  die, 
Do  all  thy  strength  and  courage  can, 
But  ne'er  will  I  approve  the  plan. 
For  he,  in  might  supremely  great, 


'  The  Sanskrit  words  for  car  and  jewels 
begin  with  m. 


The  giant  world  could  extirpate, 
Since,  when  impetuous  Khara  sought 
The  grove  of  Janasthan  and  fought 
For  Surparmkha's  sake,  he  died 
By  Rama's  hand  in  battle  tried. 
How  has  he  wronged  thee  ?    Soothly  swear, 
And  Rama's  fault  and  sin  declare. 
I  warn  thee,  and  my  words  are  wise, 

I  seek  thy  people's  weal  : 
But  if  this  rede  thou  wilt  despise, 

Nor  hear  my  last  appeal, 
Thou  with  thv  kin  and  all  thy  friends 

In  fight  this  day  wilt  die, 
When  his  great  bow  the  hero  bends, 
And  shafts  unerring  fly.' 


CANTO  XL. 


KAVAN'S  SPEECH. 

But  Ravan  scorned  the  rede  he  gave 
In  timely  words  to  warn  and  save, 
E'en  as  the  wretch  who  hates  to  live 
Rejects  the  herb  the  leeches  give. 
By  fate  to  sin  and  ruin  spurred, 
That  sage  advice  the  giant  heard, 
Then  in  reproaches  hard  and  stern 
Thus  to  Maricha  spoke  in  turn  : 

'Is  this  thy  counsel,  weak  and  base, 
Unworthy  of  thy  giant  race  ? 
Thy  speech  is  fruitless,  vain,  thy  toil 
Like  casting  seed  on  barren  soil. 
No  words  of  thine  shall  drive  me  back 
From  Rama  and  the  swift  attack. 
A  fool  is  he.  inured  to  sin, 
And  more,  of  human  origin. 
The  craven,  at  a  woman's  call 
To  leave  his  sire,  his  mother,  all 
The  friends  he  loved,  the  power  and  sway. 
And  hasten  to  the  woods  away  ! 
But  now  his   anger  will  I  rouse, 
Stealing  away  his  darling  spouse. 
I  in  thy  sight  will  ravish  her 
From  Khara's  cruel  murderer. 
Upon  this  plan  my  soul  is  bent, 
And  naught  shall  move  my  firm  intent, 
Not  if  the  way  through  demons  led 
And  Gods  with  Indra  at  their  head. 
'Tis  thine,  when  questioned,  to  explain 
The  hope  and  fear,  the  loss  and  gain, 
And,  when  thy  king  thy  thoughts  would 

know, 

The  triumph  or  the  danger  show. 
A  prudent  counsellor  should  wait, 
And  speak  when  ordered  in  debate, 
With  hands  uplifted,  calm  and  meek, 
If  honour  and  reward  he  seek. 
Or,  when  some  prudent  course  he  sees 
1  Which,  spoken,  may  his  king  displease, 


276 


THE  RAM  AY  AX. 


Boole  III. 


He  should  by  hints  of  dexterous  art 
His  counsel  to  his  lord  impart. 
But  prudent  words  are  said  in  vain 
When  the  blunt  speech  brings  grief  and 

pain. 

A  high-souled  king  will  scarcely  thank 
The  man  who  shames  his  royal  rank. 
Five  are  the  shapes  that  kings  assume, 
Of  majesty,  of  grace,  and  gloom  : 
Like  Indra  now,  or  Agni,  now 
Like  the  dear  Moon,  with  placid  brow: 
Like  mighty  Varun  now  they  show, 
Now  fierce  as  He  who  rales  below. 

0  giant,  monarchs  lofty-souled 

Are  kind  and  gentle,  stern  and  bold, 
With  gracious  love  their  gifts  dispense 
And  swiftly  punish  each  offence. 
Thus  subjects  should  their  rulers  view 
With  all  respect  and  honour  due. 
But  folly  leads  thy  heart  to  slight 
Thy  monarch  and  neglect  his  right. 
Thou  hast  in  lawless  pride  addressed 
With  bitter  words  thy  royal  guest. 

1  asked  thee  not  my  strength  to  scan, 
Or  less  and  profit  in  the  plan. 

I  only  spoke  to  tell  the  deed 

0  mighty  one,  by  me  decreed, 
And  bid  thee  in  the  peril  lend 
Thy  succour  to  support  thy  friend. 
Hear  me  again,  and  I  will  tell 
How  thou  canst  aid  my  venture  well. 
In  semblance  of  a  golden  deer 
Adorned  with  silver  drops,  appear  : 
And  near  the  cottage  in  the  way 

Of  Kama  and  his  consort  stray. 

Draw  nigh,  and  wandering   through   the 

brake 

With  thy  strange  form  her  fancy  take. 
The  Maithil  dame  with  wondering  eyes 
Will  look  upon  thy  fair  disguise, 
And  quickly  bid  her  husband  go 
And  bring  the  deer  that  charms  her  so, 
When  Raghu's  son  has  left  the  place, 
Still  pressing  onward  in  the  chase, 
Cry  out,  *  O  Lakshman !  Ah,  mine  own  ! ' 
With  voice  resembling  llama's  tone. 
When  Lakshman  hears  his  brother's  cry, 
Impelled  by  Sit&  he  will  fly, 
Restless  with  eager  love,  to  aid 
The  hunter  in  the  distant  shade. 
When  both  her  guards  have  left  her  side, 
Even  as  Indra,  thousand-eyed, 
Clasps  &achi,  will  I  bear  away 
The  Maithil  dame  an  easy  prey. 
When  thou,  my  friend,  this  aid  hast  lent, 
Go  where  thou  wilt  and  live  content. 
True  servant,  faithful  to  thy  vow, 
With  half  my  realm  I  thee  endow. 
Go  forth,  may  luck  thy  way  attend 
That  leads  thee  to  the' happy  end. 

1  in  my  car  will  quickly  be 


In  Dandak  wood,  and  follow  thee. 
So  will  1  cheat  this  Rama's  eyes 
And  win  without  a  blow  the  prize  ; 
Arid  safe  return  to  Lanka's  town 
With  thee,  my  friend,  this  day  shall  crown. 
But  if  thou  wilt  not  aid  my  will, 
My  hand  this  day  thy  blood  shall  spill. 
Yea,  thou  must  share  the  destined  task, 
For  force  will  take  the  help  I  ask. 
No  bliss  that  rebel's  life  attends 
Whose  stubborn  will  his  lord  offends. 
Thy  life,  if  thou  the  task  assay, 

In  jeopardy  may  stand  ; 
Oppose  me,  and  this  very  day 

Thou  diest  by  this  hand. 
Now  ponder  all  that  thou  hast  heard 

Within  thy  prudent  breast: 

Reflect  with  care  on  every  word, 

And  do  what  seems  the  best.' 


CANTO  XLI. 


MARICHA'S   REPLY. 

Against  his  judgment  sorely  pressed 
By  his  imperious  lord's  behest, 
Maricha  threats  of  death  defied 
And  thus  with  bitter  words  replied: 

*  Ah,  who,  my  King,  with  sinful  thought 
This  wild  and  wicked  counsel  taught, 
By  which  destruction  soon  will  fall 

On  thee,  thy  sons,  thy  realm  and  all  ? 
Who  is  the  guilty  wretch  who  sees 
With  envious  eye  thy  blissful  ease, 
And  by  this  plan,  so  falsely  shown, 
Death's  gate  for  thee  has  open  thrown  ? 
With  souls  impelled  by  mean  desire 
Thy  foes  against  thy  life  conspire. 
They  urge  thee  to  destruction's  brink, 
And  gladly  would  they  see  thee  sink. 
Who  with  base  thought  to  work  thee  woe 
This  fatal  road  has  dared  to  show, 
And,  triumph  in  his  wicked  eye, 
Would  see  thee  enter  in  and  die  ? 
To  all  thy  counsellors,  untrue, 
The  punishment  of  death  is  due. 
Who  see  thee  tempt  the  dangerous  way, 
Nor  strain  each  nerve  thy  foot  to  stay. 
Wise  lords,  whose  king,  by  passion  led, 
The  path  of  «in  begins  to  tread, 
Restrain  him  while  there  yet  is  time  : 
But  thine,— they  see  nor  heed  the  crime. 
These  by  their  master's  will  obtain 
Merit  and  fame  and  joy  and  gain. 

*  'Tis  only  by  their  master's  grace 
That  servants  hold  their  lofty  place. 
But  when  the  monarch  stoops  to  sin 
They  lose  each  joy  they  strove  to  win, 
And  all  the  people  high  and  low 
Fall  in  the  common  overthrow. 


Canto  XLIL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


277 


Merit  and  fame  and  honour  spring, 
Best  of  the  mighty,  from  the  king. 
So  all  should  strive  with  heart  and  will 
To  keep  the  king  from  every  ill. 
Pride,  violence,  and  sullen  hate 
Will  ne'er  maintain  a  monarch's  state, 
And  those  who  cruel  deeds  advise 
Must  perish  when  their  master  dies, 
Like  drivers  with  their  cars  o'erthrown 
In  places  rousrh  with  root  and  stone. 
The  good  wl  ose  holy  lives  were^spent 
On  duty's  highest  laws  intent, 
With  wives  and  children  many  a  time 
Have  perished  for  another's  crime. 
Hapless  are  they  whose  sovereign  lord, 
Opposed  to  al',  1  y  all  abhorred, 
Is  cruel-hearted,  narsh,  severe  : 
Thus  might  a  jackal  tend  the  deer. 
Now  all  the  giant  race  await, 
Destroyed  by  thee,  a  speedy  fate, 
Ruled  by  a  king  so  cruel-souled, 
Foolish  in  heart  and  uncontrolled. 
Think  not  I  fear  the  sudden  blow 
That  threatens  now  to  lay  me  low: 
I  mourn  the  ruin  that  I  see 
Impending  o'er  thy   host  and  thee. 
Me  first  perchance  will  Rama  kill, 
But  soon  his  hand  thy  blood  will  spill. 
I  die,  and  if  by  Rama  slain 
And  not  by  thee,  I  count  it  gain. 
Soon  as  the  hero  s  face  I  see 
His  angry  eyes  will  murder  me, 
And  if  on  her  thy  hands  thou  lay 
Thy  friends  and  thou  are  dead  this  day. 
If  with  my  help  thou  still  must  dare 
The  lady  from  her  lord  to  tear, 
Farewell  to  all  !  our  days  are  o'er, 
Lanka  and  giants  are  no  more. 
In  vain,  in  vain,  an  earnest  friend, 
I  warn  thee,  King,  and  pray. 

Thou  wilt  not  to  my  prayers  attend, 
Or  heed  the  words  I  say. 

So  men.  when  life  is  fleeting  fast 
And  death's  sad  hour  is  nigh, 

Heedless  and  blin  led  to  the  last 
Reject  advice  and  die.' 

CANTO  XLIL 


MARFCHA  TRANSFORMED. 

M£r!cha  thus  in  wild  unrest 

With  bitter  words  the  king  addressed, 

Then  to  his  giant  lord  in  dread, 

'  Arise,  and  let  us  go,'  he  said. 

'  Ah,  I  have  met  that  mighty  lord 

Armed  with  his  shafts  and  bow  and  sword, 

And  if  again  that  bow  he  bend 

Our  lives  that  very  hour  will  end. 


For  none  that  warrior  can  provoke 
And  think  to  fly  his  deadly  stroke. 
Like  Varna  with  his  staff  is  he, 
And  his  dread  hand  will  slaughter  thee. 
j  What  can  I  more?  My  words  can  find 
I  No  passage  to  thy  stubborn  mind. 
1  I  go,  great  King,  thy  task  to  share, 
And  my  success  attend  thee  there/ 

With  that  reply  and  bold  consent 
The  giant  king  was  well  content. 
He  strained  Maricha  to  his  breast 
And  thus  with  joyful  words  addressed  : 
'  There  spoke  a  hero  dauntless  still, 
Obedient  to  his  master's  will, 
Mariclia's  proper  self  once  more  : 
Some  other  took  thy  shape  before. 
Come,  mount  my  jewelled  car  that  flies, 
Will -governed,  through  the  yielding  skies. 
These  asses,  goblin-faced,  shall  bear 
Us  quickly  through  the  fields  of  air. 
Attract  the  lady  with  thy  shape, 
Then  through  the  wood,  at  will,  escape. 
And  I,  when  she  has  no  defence, 
Will  seize  the  dame  and  bear  her  thence. 

Again  Maricha  made  reply, 
Consent  and  will  to  signify. 
With  rapid  speed  the  giants  two 
From  the  calm  hermit  dwelling  flew, 
Borne  in  that  wondrous  chariot,  meet 
For  some  great  God's  celestial  seat. 
They  from  their  airy  path  looked  down 
On  many  a  wood  and  many  a  town, 
On  lake  and  river,  brook  and  rill, 
City  and  realm  and  towering  hill. 
Soon  he  whom  giant  hosts  obeyed. 
Maricha  by  his  side,  surveyed 
The  dark  expanse  of  Dandak  wood 
Where  Rarna's  hermit  cottage  stood. 
They  left  the  flying  car,  whereon 
The  wealth  of  gold  and  jewels  shone, 
And  thus  the  giant  king  addressed 
Maricha  as  his  hand  he  pressed: 

'  Maricha,  look  !  before  our  eyes 
Round  Rama's  home  the  plantains  rise. 
His  hermitage  is  now  in  view  : 
Quick  to  the  work  we  came  to  do  ! ' 

Thus  Ravan  spoke,    Maricha  heard 
Obedient  to  his  master's  word, 
Threw  off  his  giant  shape  and  near 
The  cottage  strayed  a  beauteous  deer. 
With  magic  power,  by  rapid  change. 
His  borrowed  form  was  fair  and  strange, 
A  sapphire  tipped  each  horn  with  light; 
His  face  was  black  relieved  with  white. 
The  turkis  and  the  ruby  shed 
A  glory  from  his  ears  and  head. 
His  arching  neck  was  proudly  raised, 
And  lazulites  beneath  it  blazed. 
With  roseate  bloom  his  flanks  were  dyed, 
And  lotus  tints  adorned  his  hide. 
His  shape  was  fair,  compact,  and  slight  ; 


278 


THE  RAM  AY  AX. 


Bool  III. 


His  hoofs  were  carven  lazulite. 
His  tail  with  every  changing  glow 
Displayed  the  hues  of  Indra's  bow. 
With  glossy  skin  so  strangely  flecked, 
With  tints  of  every  gem  bedecked. 
A  light  o'er  Kama's  home  he  sent, 
And  through  the  wood,  where'er  he  went. 
The  giant  clad  in  that  strange  dress 
That  took  the  soul  with  loveliness, 
To  charm  the  fair  Videhan's  eyes 
With  mingled  wealth  of  mineral  dyes, 
Moved  onward,  cropping  in  his  way, 
The  grass  and  grain  and  tender  spray. 
His  coat  with  drops  of  silver  bright, 
A  form  to  gaze  on  with  delight, 
He  raised  his  fair  neck  as  he  went 
To  browse  on  bud  and  filament. 
Now  in  the  Cassia  grove  he  strayed, 
Now  by  the  cot  in  plantains'  shade. 
Slowly  and  slowly  on  he  came 
To  catch  the  glances  of  the  dame, 
And  the  tall  deer  of  splendid  hue 
Shone  full  at  length  in  Sita's  view. 
He  roamed  where'er  his  fancy  chose 
Where  Kama's  leafy  cottage  rose. 
Now  near,  now  far,  in  careless  ease, 
He  came  and  went  among  the  trees. 
Now  with  light  feet  he  turned  to  fly, 
Now,  reassured,  again  drew  nigh  : 
Now  gambolled  close  with  leap  and  bound, 
Now  lay  upon  the  grassy  ground  : 
Now  sought  the  door,  devoid  of  fear, 
And  mingled  with  the  troop- of  deer  ; 
Led  them  a  little  way,  and  thence 
Again  returned  with  conh'dence. 
Now  flying  far,  now  turning  back 
Emboldened  on  his  former  track, 
Seeking  to  win  the  lady's  glance 
He  wandered  through  the  green  expanse. 
Then  thronging  round,  the  woodland  deer 
Gazed  on  his  form  with  wondering  fear  ; 
A  while  they  followed  where  he  led, 
Then  snuffed  the  tainted  gale  and  fled. 
The  giant,  though  he  longed  to  slay 
The  startled  quarry,  spared  the  prey, 
.And  mindful  of  the  shape  he  wore 
To  veil  his  nature,  still  forbore. 
Then  Siia  of  the  giorious  eye, 
Returning  from  her  task  drew  nigh : 
For  she  had  sought  the  wood  to  bring 
Each  loveliest  flower  of  early  spring. 
Now  would  the  bright-eyed  lady  choose 
Some  gorgeous  bud  with  blending  hues, 
Now  plucked  the  mango's  spray,  and  now 
The  bloom  from  an  Asoka  bough. 
She  with  her  beauteous  form,  unmeet 
For  woodland  life  and  lone  retreat, 
That  wondrous  dappled  deer  beheld 
Gemmed  with  rich  pearls,  unparalleled. 
His  silver  hair  the  lady  saw, 
His  radiant  teeth  and  lips  and  jaw, 


And  gazed  with  rapture  as  her  eyes 
Expanded  in  their  glad  surprise. 
And  when  the  false  deer's  glances  fell 
On  her  whom  Rama  loved  so  well, 
He  wandered  here  and  there,  and  cast 
A  luminous  beauty  as  lie  passed  ; 
And  Janak's  child  with  strange  delight 
Kept  gazing  on  the  unwonted  sight. 


CANTO  XLIII. 


THE  WONDROUS  DEER. 

She  stooped,  her  hands  with  flowers  to  fill, 
But  gazed  upon  the  marvel  still  : 
Gazed  on  its  back  and  sparkling  side 
Where  silver  hues  with  golden  vied. 
Joyous  was  she  of  faultless  mould, 
With  glossy  skin  like  polished  gold, 
And  loudly  to  her  husband  cried 
And  bow-armed  Lakshman  by  his  side: 
Again,  again  she  called  in  glee  : 
'  U  come  this  glorious  creature  see  ; 
Quick,  quick,  my  lord,  this  deer  to  view, 
And  bring  thy  brother  Lakshman  too.' 
As  through  the  wood  her  clear  tones  rang, 
Swift  to  her  side  the  brothers  sprang. 
With  eager  eyes  the  grove  they  scanned, 
And  saw  the  deer  before  them  stand. 
But  doubt  was  strong  in  Lakshman's  breast, 
Who  thus  his  thought  and  fear  expressed : 

'  Stay,  for  the  wondrous  deer  we  see 
The  h'end  Marie ha's self  may  be. 
Ere  now  have  kings  who  sought  this  place 
To  take  their  pastime  in  the  ohase, 
Met  from  his  wicked  art  defeat, 
And  fallen  slain  by  like  deceit. 
He  wears,  well  trained  in  magic  guile, 
The  figure  of  a  deer  a  while, 
Bright  as  the  very  sun,  or  place 
Where  dwell  the  gay  Ganuharva  race. 
No  deer,  O  Rama,  e'er  was  seen 
Thus  decked  with  gold  and  jewels'  sheen. 
Tis  magic,  for  the  world  has  ne'er, 
Lord  of  the  world,  shown  aught  so  fair.' 

But  Sita  of  the  lovely  smile, 
A  captive  to  the  giant's  wile, 
Turned  Lakshmun's  prudent  speech  aside 
And  thus  with  eager  words  replied  : 
Mv  honoured  lord,  this  deer  I  see 
With  beauty  rare  enraptures  me. 
Go,  chief  of  mighty  arm,  and  bring 
For  my  delight  this  precious  thing. 
Fair  creatures  of  the  woodland  roam 
Untroubled  near  our  hermit  home. 
The  forest  cow  and  stag  are  there, 
The  fawn,  the  monkey,  and  the  bear, 
Where  spotted  deer  delight  to  play, 


Canto  XLlff. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


279 


And  strong  and  beauteous  Kinnars1  stray. 
But  never,  as  they  wandered  by, 
Has  such  a  beauty  charmed  mine  eye 
As  this  with  limbs  so  fair  and  slight, 
So  gentle,  beautiful  and  bright. 
O  see,  how  fair  it  is  to  view 
With  jewels  of  each  varied  hue  : 
Bright  as  the  rising  moon  it  glows, 
Lighting  the  wood  where'er  it  goes. 
Ah  me.  what  form  and  grace  are  there  ! 
Its  limbs  how  fine,  its  hues  how  fair  ! 
Transcending  all  that  words  express, 
It  takes  my  soul  with  loveliness. 
O,  if  thou  would,  to  please  me,  strive 
To  take  the  beauteous  thing  alive, 
How  thou  wouldst  gaze  with  wondering 

eyes 

Delighted  on  the  lovely  prize! 
And  when  our  woodland  life  is  o'er, 
And  we  enjoy  our  realm  once  more, 
The  wondrous  animal  will  grace 
The  chambers  of  my  dwelling-place, 
And  a  dear  treasure  will  it  be 
T<>  Bharat  and  the  queens  and  me, 
And  all  with  rapture  and  amaze 
Upon  its  heavenly  form  will  gaze. 
But  if  the  beauteous  deer,  pursued, 
Thine  arts  to  take  it  still  elude, 
Strike  it,  O  chieftain,  and  the  skin 
Will  be  a  treasure,  laid  within. 
O,  how  I  long  my  time  to  pass 
Sitting  upon  the  tender  grass, 
With  that  soft  fell  beneath  me  spread 
Bright  with  its  hair  of  golden  thread  ! 
This  strong  desire,  this  eager  will, 
Befits  a  gentle  lady  ill ; 
But  when  I  first  beheld,  its  look 
My  breast  with  fascination  took. 
See,  golden  hair  its  flank  adorns, 
And  sapphires  tip  its  branching  horns. 
Resplendent  as  the  lunar  way, 
Or  the  first  blush  of  opening  day, 
With  graceful  form  and  radiant  hue 
It  charmed  thy  heart,  O  chieftain,  too. 

He  heard  her  speech  with  willing  ear, 
He  looked  again  upon  the  deer. 
Its  lovely  shape  his  breast  beguiled 
Moved  by  the  prayer  of  Janak's  child, 
And  yielding  for  her  pleasure's  sake, 
To  Lakshman  Rama  turned  and  spake  : 

'  Mark,   Lakshman,  mark    how    Sita's 

breast 

With  eager  longing  is  possessed. 
To-day  this  deer  of  wondrous  breed 
Must  for  his  passing  beauty  bleed, 
Brighter  than  e'er  in  Nandan  strayed, 
Or  Uhaitraratha's  heavenly  shade. 


1  A  race  of  beings  of  human  shape  but 
with  the  heads  of  horses,  like  centaurs 
reversed. 

19 


How  should  the  groves  of  earth  possess 
Such  all-surpassing  loveliness ! 
The  hair  lies  smooth  and  bright  and  fine, 
Or  waves  upon  each  curving  line, 
And  drops  of  living  gold  bedeck 
The  beauty  of  his  side  and  neck. 
O  look,  his  crimson  tongue  between 
His  teeth  like  flaming  fire  is  seen, 
Flashing,  whene'er  his  lips  he  parts, 
As  from  a  cloud  the  lightning  darts. 
O  see  his  sunlike  forehead  shine 
With  emerald  tints  and  almandine. 
While  pearly  light  and  roseate  glow 
Of  shells  adorn  his  neck  below. 
No  eye  on  such  a  deer  can  rest 
But  soft  enchantment  takes  the  breast : 
No  man  so  fair  a  thing  behold 
Ablaze  with  light  of  radiant  gold, 
Celestial,  bright  with  jewels'  sheen, 
Nor  marvel  when  his  eyes  have  seen. 
A  king  equipped  with  bow  and  shaft 
Delights  in  gentle  forest  craft, 
And  as  in  boundless  woods  he  strays 
The  quarry  for  the  venison  slays. 
There  as  he  wanders  with  his  train 
A  store  of  wealth  he  oft  may  gain. 
He  claims  by  right  the  precious  ore, 
He  claims  the  jewels'  sparkling  store. 
Such  gains  are  dearer  in  his  eyes 
Than  wealth  that  in  his  chamber  lies, 
The  dearest  things  his  spirit  knows, 
Dear  as  the  bliss  which  Sukra  chose. 
But  oft  the  rich  expected  gain 
Which  heedless  men  pursue  in  vain, 
The  sage,  who  prudent  counsels  know, 
Explain  and  in  a  moment  show. 
This  best  of  deer,  this  gem  of  all, 
To  yield  his  precious  spoils  must  fall, 
And  tender  Sita  by  my  side 
Shall  sit  upon  trie  golden  hide. 
Ne'er  could  I  find  so  rich  a  coat 
On  spotted  deer  or  sheep  or  goat. 
No  buck  or  antelope  has  such, 
So  bright  t->  view,  so  soft  to  touch. 
This  radiant  deer  and  one  on  high 
That  moves  in  glory  through  the  sky, 
Alike  in  heavenly  beauty  are, 
One  on  the  earth  and  one  a  star. 
But,  brother,  if  thy  fears  be  true, 
And  this  bright  creature  that  we  view 
Be  fierce  Maricha  in  disguise, 
Then  by  this  hand  he  surely  dies. 
For  that  dire  fiend  who  spurns  control 
With  bloody  hand  and  cruel  soul, 
Has  roamed  this  forest  and  dismayed 
The  holiest  saints  who  haunt  the  shade. 
Great  archers,  sprung  of  royal  race, 
Pursuing  in  the  wood  the  chase, 
Have  fallen  by  his  wicked  art, 
And  now  my  shaft  shall  strike  his  heart. 
Vatapi,  by  his  magic  power 


280 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  III. 


Made  heedless  saints  his  flesh  devi  ur, 
Then,  from  within,  their  frames  lie  rent 
Forth  bursting  from  imprisonment. 
But  once  his  art  in  senseless  pride 
Upon  the  mightiest  saint  he  tried, 
Agastya's  self,  and  caused  him  taste 
The  baited  meal  before  him  placed. 
Vatapi,  when  the  rite  was  o'er, 
Would  take  the  giant  form  he  wore, 
But  Saint  Agastya  knew  his  wile, 
And  checked  the  giant  with  a  smile  : 
*  Vatapi,  thou  with  cruel  spite 
Hast  conquered  many  an  anchorite. 
The  noblest  of  the  Brahman  caste, — 
And  now  thy  ruin  comes  at  last.' 
Kow  if  my  power  he  thus  defies, 
This  giant,  like  Vatapi,  dies, 
Daring  to  scorn  a  man  like  me, 
A  self-subduing  devotee. 
Yea,  as  Agastya  slew  the  foe, 
My  hand  shall  lay  Maricha  low. 
Clad  in  thine  aims,  thy  bow  in  hand, 
To  guard  the  Maithil  Ijidy  stand, 
With  watchful  eye  and  thoughtful  breast 
Keeping  each  word  of  my  behest. 
I  go,  and  hunting  through  the  brake 
This  wondrous  deer  will  bring  or  take. 
Yea.  surely  I  will  bring  the  spoil 
Returning  from  my  hunter's  toil. 
See,  Lakshman.  how  my  consort's  eyes 
Are  longing  for  the  lovely  prize. 
This  day  it  falls,  that  I  may  win 
The  treasure  of  so  fair  a  skin. 
Do  thou  and  Sita  watch  with  care 
Lest  danger  seize  you  unaware. 
Swift  from  my  bow  one  shaft  will  fly  ; 
The  stricken  deer  will  fall  and  die. 
Then  quickly  will  I  strip  the  game 
And  bring  the  trophy  to  my  dame. 

Jatayus,  guardian  good  and  wise, 
Our  old  and  faithful  friend, 

The  best  and  strongest  bird  that  flies, 
His  willing  aid  will  lend. 

The  Maithi)  lady  well  protect, 
For  every  chance  provide, 

And  in  thy  tender  care  su.-pect 
A  foe  on  every  side.' 


CANTO  XLIV. 


MARTCHA'S  DEATH. 

Thus  having  warned  his  brother  bold 
He  grasped  his  sword  with  haft  of  gold, 
And  bow  with  triple  flexure  bent, 
His  own  delight  and  ornament ; 
Then  bound  two  quivers  to  his  side, 
And  hurried  forth  with  eager  stride. 
Soon  as  the  antlered  monarch  saw 
The  lord  of  monarchs  near  him  draw, 


A  while  with  trembling  heart  he  fled, 
Then  turned  and  showed  his  stately  head. 
With  sword  and  bow  the  chief  pursued 
Where'er  the  flying  deer  he  viewed 
lending  from  dell  and  lone  recess 
The  splendour  cf  his  loveliness. 
Now  full  in  view  the  creature  stood, 
Now  vanished  in  the  depth  of  wood  ; 
Now  luring  with  a  languid  flight, 
Now  like  a  meteor  lost  to  sight. 
With  trembling  limbs  away  he  sped  ; 
Then  like  the  moon  with  clouds  o'erspread 
Gleamed  for  a  moment  bright  between 
The  trees,  and  was  again  unseen. 
Thus  in  the  magic  deer's  disguise 
Mitricha  lured  him  to  the  prize, 
And  seen  a  while,  then  lost  to  view, 
Far  from  his  cot  the  hero  drew. 
Still  by  the  flying  game  deceived 
1  he  hunter's  heart  was  wroth  and  grieved, 
And  wearied  with  the  fruitless  chase 
He  stayed  him  in  a  shady  place. 
Again  the  rover  of  the  night 
Enraged  the  chieftain,  full  in  sight, 
Slow  moving  in  the  coppice  near, 
Surrounded  l>y  the  woodland  deer. 
Again  the  hunter  sought  the  game 
That  seemed  a  while  to  court  his  aim  : 
But  seized  again  with  sudden  dread, 
Beyond  his  sight  the  creature  fled. 
Again  the  hero  left  the  shade, 
Again  the  deer  before  him  strayed. 
With  surer  hope  and  stronger  will 
The  hunter  longed  his  prey  to  kill. 
Then,  as  his  soul  impatient  grew, 
An  arrow  from  his  side  he  drew, 
Resplendent  at  the  sunbeam's  glow, 
The  crusher  of  the  smitten  foe. 
With  skilful  heed  the  mighty  lord 
Fixed  well  the  shaft  and  strained  the  cord. 
Upon  the  deer  his  eyes  he  bent, 
And  like  a  fiery  serpent  went 
The  arrow  Brahma's  self  had  framed, 
Alive  with  sparks  that  hissed  and  flamed, 
Like  Indra's  flashing  levin,  true 
To  the  false  deer  the  missile  flew. 
Cleaving  his  flesh,  that  wondrous  dart 
Stood  quivering  in  Maricha's  heart. 
Scarce  from  the  ground  one  foot  he  sprang, 
Then  stricken  fell  with  deadly  pang. 
Half  lifeless,  as  he  pressed  the  ground, 
He  gave  a  roar  of  awful  sound. 
And  ere  the  wounded  giant  died 
He  threw  his  borrowed  form  aside. 
Remembering  still  his  lord's  behest 
He  pondered  in  his  heart  how  best 
Sita  might  send  her  guard  away, 
And  Ravan  seize  the  helpless  prey. 
The  monster  knew  the  time  was  nigh, 
And  called  aloud  with  eager  cry, 
'Ho,  Sita,  Lakshman  ! '  and  the  tone 


Canto  XLV. 


THE  RAMA  TAN. 


281 


He  borrowed  was  like  Rfima's  own. 
So  by  that  matchless  arrow  cleft, 
The  deer's  bright  form  Marie li a  left, 
Resumed  his  giant  shape  and  size 
And  closed  in  death  his  languid  eyes. 
When  Rarna  saw  his  awful  foe 
Gasp,  smeared  with  blood,  in  deadly  throe, 
His  anxious  thoughts  to  Sita  sped, 
And  the  wise  words  that  Lakshman  said, 
That  this  was  false  Marie ha's  art,  * 
Returned  again  upon  his  heart, 
He  knew  the  foe  he  triumphed  o'er 
The  name  of  great  Maricha  bore. 
4  The  fiend,'  he  pondered,  'ere  lie  died, 
•  Ho,  Lakshman  !  ho,  my  Sita  ! '  cried. 
A!i,  if  that  cry  lias  reached  her  ear, 
How  dire  must  be  my  darling's  fear! 
Arid  Lakshman  of  the  mighty  arm, 
What  thinks  he  in  his  wild  alarm  ? 
As  thus  he  thought  in  sad  surmise, 
Each  startled  hair  began  to  rise  ; 
And  when  he  saw  the  giant  slain 
And  thought  upon  that  cry  again, 
His  spirit  sank  and  terror  pressed 
Full  sorely  on  the  hero's  breast. 
Another  deer  he  chased  and  struck: 
He  bore  away  the  fallen  buck, 
To  Janasthan  then  turned  his  face 
Aud  hastened  to  his  dwelling-place. 


CANTO  XLV. 
LAKSHMAN'S  DEPARTURE. 


But  Sita  hearing,  as  she  thought, 
Her  husband's  cry  with  anguish  fraught, 
Called  to  her  guardian,  '  Lakshman,  run 
And  in  the  wood  seek  Raghu's  son.  * 
Scarce  can  my  heart  retain  its  throne, 
Scarce  can  my  life  be  called  mine  own, 
As  all  my  powers  and  senses  fail 
At  that  long,  loud  and  bitter  wail. 
Haste  to  the  wood  with  all  thy  speed 
And  save  thy  brother  in  his  need. 
Go,  save  him  in  the  distant  shade 
Where  loud  he  calls  for  timely  aid. 
He  falls  beneath  some  giant  foe-- 
A  bull  whom  lions  overthrow.' 

Deaf  to  her  prayer,  no  step  he  stirred 
Obedient  to  his  brother's  word. 
Then  Janak's  child,  with  ire  inflamed, 
In  words  of  bitter  scorn  exclaimed  : 

'Sumiira's  son,  a  friend  in  show, 
Thou  art  in  truth  thy  brother's  foe, 
Who  canst  at  such  an  hour  deny 
Thy  succour  and  neglect  his  cry. 
Yes,  Lakshman,  smit  with  love  of  me 
Thy  brother's  death  thou  fain  wouldst  see. 
This  guilty  love  thy  heart  has  swayed, 
Aud  makes  thy  feet  so  loth  to  aid, 


Thou  hast  no  love  for  Kama,  no  : 
Thy  joy  is  vice,  thy  thoughts  are  low. 
Hence  thus  unmoved  thou  yet  canst  stay 
While  my  dear  lord  is  far  away, 
If  aught  of  ill  my  lord  betide 
Who  led  thee  here,  thy  chief  and  guide 
Ah,  what  will  be  my  hapless  fate 
Left  in  the  wild  wood  desolate  1 J 

Thus  spoke  the  lady  sad  with  fear. 
With  many  a  sigh  and  many  a  tear, 
Still  trembling  like  a  captured  doe  : 
And  Lakshman  spoke  to  calm  her  woe  : 

'  Videhan  Queen,  be  sure  of  this,— 
And  at  the  thought  thy  fear  dismiss,— 
Thy  husband's  mightier  power  defies 
All  Gods  and  angels  of  the  skies, 
Gandharvas,  and  the  sons  of  light, 
Serpents,  and  rovers  of  the  night. 
I  tell  thee,  of  the  sons  of  earth, 
Of  Gods  who  boast  celestial  birth, 
Of  beasts  and  birds  and  giant  hosts, 
Of  demigods,  Gandharvas.  ghosts, 
Of  awful  fiends,  O  thou  most  fair, 
There  lives  not  one  whose  heart  would  dare 
To  meet  thy  Rama  in  the  fight, 
Like  Indra's  self  unmatched  in  might. 
Such  idle  words  thou  must  not  say  : 
Thy  Rama  lives  whom  none  may  slay. 
I  will  not.  cannot  leave  thee  here 
In  the  wild  wood  till  he  be  near. 
The  mightiest  strength  can  ne'er  withstand 
His  eager  force,  his  vigorous  hand  : 
No,  not  the  triple  world  allied 
With  all  the  immortal  Gods  beside. 
Dismiss  thy  fear.,  again  take  heart, 
Let  all  thy  doubt  and  woe  depart. 
Thy  lord,  be  sure,  will  soon  be  here 
And  bring  thee  back  that  best  of  deer. 
Not  his,  not  his  that  mournful  cry, 
Nor  haply  came  it  from  the  sky  : 
Some  giant's  art  was  busy  there 
And  framed  a  castle  based  on  air. 
A  precious  pledge  art  thou,  consigned 
To  me  by  him  of  noblest  mind  ; 
Nor  can  I,  fairest  dame,  forsake 
The  pledge  which  Rama  bade  me  take. 
Upon  pur  heads,  O  Queen,  we  drew 
The  giants'  hate  when  Rama  slew 
I  Their  chieftain  Khara,  and  the  shade 
Of  Janasthan  in  ruin  laid. 
Through  all  this  mighty  wood  they  rove 
With  varied  cries  from  grove  to  grove. 
On  rapine  bent  they  wander  here: 
But  O,  dismiss  thy  causeless  fear.' 

Bright  flashed  her  eye  as  La?kshman  spoke, 
And  forth  her  words  of  fury  broke* 
Upon  her  truthful  guardian,  flung 
With  bitter  taunts  that  pierced  and  stung ; 
'  Shame  on  such  false  compassion,  base 
Defiler  of  thy  glorious  race  !. 
'Twere  joyous  sight,  I  ween,  to  thee    < 


282 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool  111 


My  lord  in  direst  strait  to  see. 

Thou  knowest  Rama  sore  bested, 

Or  word  like  this  thou  ne'er  hadst  said. 

No  marvel  if  we  find  such  sin 

In  rivals  false  to  kith  and  kin. 

"Wretches  like  thee  of  evil  kind, 

Concealing  crime  with  crafty  mind. 

Thou,  wretch,  thine  aid  wilt  still  deny, 

And  leave  rny  lord  alone  to  die. 

Has  love  of  me  unnerved  thy  hand, 

Or  Bbarat's  art  this  ruin  planned  ? 

•But  be  the  treachery  his  or  thine, 

In  vain,  in  vain  the  base  design. 

For  how  shall  I,  the  chosen  bride 

Of -dark'hued  Rama,  lotus-eyed, 

The  queen  who  once  called  Rama  mine, 

To  love  of  other  men  decline  ? 

Believe  me,  Lakshman,  Kama's  wife 

Before  thine  eyes  will  quit  this  life, 

And  not  a  moment  will  she  stay 

If  her  dear  lord  have  passed  away.' 

The  lady's  bitter  speech,  that  stirred 
Each  hair  upon  his  frame,  he  heard. 
With  lifted  hands  together  laid, 
His  calm  reply  he  gently  made  : 

'  No  words  have  I  to  answer  now : 
My  deity,  0  Queen,  art  thou. 
But  'tis  no  marvel,  dame,  to  find 
Such  lack  of  sense  in  womankind. 
Throughout  this  world,  O  Maithil  dame, 
Weak  women's  hearts  are  still  the  same. 
Inconstant,  urged  by  envious  spite, 
They  sever  friends  and  hate  the  right. 
1  cannot  brook,  Videhan  Queen, 
Thy  words  intolerably  keen. 
Mine  ears  thy  fierce  reproaches  paiu 
As  boiling  water  seethes  the  brain. 
And  now  to  bear  me  witness  all 
The  dwellers  in  the  wood  I  call, 
That,  when  with  words  of  truth  1  plead, 
This  harsh  reply  is  all  my  meed. 
Ah,  woe  is  thee  !  Ah,  grief,  that  still 
Eager  to  do  my  brother's  will, 
Mourning  thy  woman's  nature,  I 
Must  see  thee  doubt  my  truth  and  die. 
I  fly  to  Rama's  side,  and  Oh, 
May  bliss  attend  thee  while  I  go ! 
May  all  attendant  wood-gods  screen 
Thy  head  from  harm,  O  large-eyed  Queen 
And  though  dire  omens  meet  my  sight 
And  till  my  soul  with  wild  affright, 
May  I  return  in  peace  and  see 
The  son  of  Raghu  safe  with  thee ! ' 

The  child  of  Janak  heard  him  speak, 
And  the  hot  tear-drops  down  her  cheek, 
Increasing  to  a  torrent,  ran, 
As  thus  once  more  the  dame  began  : 
'  O  Lakshman,  if  I  widowed  be 
Godavari's  flood  shall  cover  me, 
Or  I  will  die  by  cord,  or  leap, 

y,  from  yon  rocky  steep  ; 


Or  deadly  poison  will  I  drink, 
3r  'neath  the  kindled  flames  will  sink, 
3ut  never,  reft  of  Rama,  can 
Consent  to  touch  a  meaner  man.' 

The  Maithil  dame  with  many  sighs, 
And  torrents  pouring  from  her  eyes, 
The  faithful  Lakshman  thus  adressed, 
And  smote  her  hands  upon  her  breast. 
Sumitra's  son,  o'erwhelmed  by  fears, 
Looked  on  the  large-eyed  queen : 
He  saw  that  flood  of  burning  tears, 

He  saw  that  piteous  mien. 
He  yearned  sweet  comfort  to  afford. 

He  strove  to  soothe  her  pain : 
But  to  the  brother  of  her  lord 

She  spoke  no  word  again. 
His  reverent  hands maoa  more  he  raised 

His  head  he  slightly  bent, 
Upon  her  face  he  sadly  gazed, 
And  then  toward  Kama  went. 


CANTO  XLVI. 


THE  GUEST. 

The  angry  Lakshman  scarce  could  brook 
Her  bitter  words,  her  furious  look. 
With  dark  forebodings  in  his  breast 
To  Rama's  side  he  quickly  pressed. 

Then  ten-necked  Kavan  saw  the  time 
Propitious  for  his  purposed  crime. 
A  mendicant  in  guise  he  came 
And  stood  before  the  Maithil  dame. 
His  garb  was  red,  with  tufted  hair 
And  sandalled  feet  a  shade  he  bare, 
And  from  the  fiend's  left  shoulder  slung 
A  staff  and  water- vessel  hung. 
Near  to  the  lovely  dame  he  drew, 
While  both  the  chiefs  were  far  from  vie\ 
As  darkness  takes  the  evening  air 
When  neither  sun  nor  moon  is  there. 
He  bent  his  eye  upon  the  dame, 
A  princess  fair,  of  spotless  fame : 
So  might  some  baleful  planet  be 
Near  Moon-forsaken  Rohini.1 
As  the  fierce  tyrant  nearer* drew, 
The  trees  in  Janasthdn  that  grew 
Waved  not  a  leaf  for  fear  and  woe, 
And  the  hushed  wind  forbore  to  blow. 
Godavari's  waters  as  they  fled, 
Saw  his  fierce  eye-balls  flashing  red, 
And  from  each  swiftly-gliding  wave 
A  melancholy  murmur  gave. 
Then  Ravan.  when  his  eager  eye 
Beheld  the  longed-for  moment  nigh, 
In  mendicant's  apparel  dressed 
Near  to  the  Maithil  lady  pressed. 

1  The  favourite  wife  of  the  Moon, 


Canto  XLVL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


285 


In  holy  guise,  a  fiend  abhorred, 
He  found  her  mourning  for  her  lord- 
Thus  threatening  draws  Saniachar1  nigh 
To  Ohitra*  in  the  evening  sky  ; 
Thus  the  deep  well  by  grass  concealed 
Yawns  treacherous  in  the  verdant  field. 
He  stood  and  looked  upon  the  dame 
Of  Kama,  queen  of  spotless  fame. 
With  her  bright  teeth  and  each  fair  limb 
Like  the  full  moon  she  seemed  to  him, 
Sitting  within  her  leafy  cot, 
Weeping  for  woe  that  left  her  not. 
Thus,  while  with  joy  his  pukes  beat, 
He  saw  her  in  her  lone  retreat, 
Eyed  like  the  lotus,  fair  to  view 
In  silken  robes  of  amber  hue. 
Pierced  to  the  core  by  Kama's  dart 
He  murmured  texts  with  lying  art, 
And  questioned  with  a  soft  address 
The  lady  in  her  loneliness. 
The  fiend  essayed  with  gentle  speech 
The  heart  of  that  fair  dame  to  reach, 
1'ride  of  the  worlds,  like  Beauty's  Queen 
Without  her  darling  lotus  seen  : 

'  O  thou  whose  silken  robes  enfold 
A  form  more  fare  than  finest  gold, 
With  lotus  garland  on  thy  head, 
Like  a  sweet  spring  with  bloom  o'erspread, 
Who  art  thou,  fair  one,  what  thy  name, 
Beauty,  or  Honour,  Fortune,  Fame, 
Spirit,  or  nymph,  or  Queen  of  love 
Descended  from  thy  home  above? 
Bright  as  the  dazzling  jasmine  shine 
Thy  small  square  teeth  in  level  line. 
Like  two  black  stars  aglow  with  light 
Thine  eyes  are  large  and  pure  and  bright. 
Thy  charms  of  smile  and  teeth  and  hair 
And  winning  eyes,  O  thou  most  fair, 
Steal  all  my  spirit,  as  the  flow 
Of  rivers  mines  the  bank  below. 
How  bright,  how  fine  each  flowing  trees  ! 
How  firm  those  orbs  beneath  thy  dress  1 
That  dainty  waist  with  ease  were  spanned, 
Sweet  lady,  by  a  lover's  hand. 
Mine  eyes,  O  beauty,  ne'er  have  seen 
Goddess  or  nymph  so  fair  of  mien, 
Or  bright  Gandharva's  heavenly  dame, 
Or  woman  of  so  perfect  frame. 
In  youth's  soft  prime  thy  years  are  few, 
And  earth  has  naught  so  fair  to  view. 
I  marvel  one  like  thee  in  face 
Should  make  the  woods  her  dwelling-place. 
Leave,  lady,  leave  this  lone  retreat 
In  forest  wilds  for  thee  unmeet, 
Where  giants  fierce  and  strong  assume 
All  shapes  and  wander  in  the  gloom. 
These  dainty  feet  were  formed  to  tread 

1  The  planet  Saturn. 
*  Another  favourite  of  the  Moon ;  one 
of  the  lunar  mansions. 


Some  palace  floor  with  carpets  spread, 

Or  wander  in  trim  gardens  where 

Each  opening  bud  perfumes  the  air 

The  richest  robe  thy  form  should  deck, 

The  rarest  gems  adorn  thy  neck. 

The  sweetest  wreath  should  bind  thy  hair, 

The  noblest  lord  thy  bed  should  share. 

Art  thou  akin,  O  fair  of  form, 

To  Rudras,1  or  the  Gods  of  storm, » 

Or  to  the  glorious  Vasus  3  ?     How 

Can  less  than  these  be  bright  as  thou? 

But  never  nymph  or  heavenly  maid 

Or  Goddess  haunts  this  gloomy  shade. 

Here  giants  roam,  a  savage  race  ; 

What  led  thee  to  so  dire  a  place  ? 

Here  monkeys  leap  from  tree  to  tree. 

And  bears  and  tigers  wander  free  ; 

Here  ravening  lions  prowl,  and  fell 

Hyenas  in  the  thickets  yell, 

And  elephants  infuriate  roam, 

Mighty  and  fierce,  their  woodland  home. 

Dost  thou  not  dread,  so  soft  and  fair, 

Tiger  and  lion,  wolf  and  bear  ? 

Hast  thou,  0  beauteous  dame,  no  fear 

In  the  wild  wood  so  lone  and  drear? 

Whose  and  who  art  thou  ?  whence  and  why, 

Sweet  lady,  with  no  guardian  nigh, 

Dost  thou  this  awful  forest  tread 

By  giant  bands  inhabited  ? ' 

The  praise  the  high-souled  Ravan  spoke 
No  doubt  within  her  bosom  woke. 
His  saintly  look  and  Brahman  guise 
Deceived  the  lady's  trusting  eyes. 
With  due  attention  on  the  guest 
Her  hospitable  rites  she  pressed. 
She  bade  the  stranger  to  a  seat, 
And  gave  him  water  for  his  feet. 
The  bowl  and  water-pot  he  bare, 
And  garb  which  wandering  Brahmans  wear 

Forbade  a  doubt  to  rise. 
Won  by  his  holy  look  she  deemed 
The  stranger  even  as  he  seemed 

To  her  deluded  eyes. 
Intent  on  hospitable  care, 
She  brought  her  best  of  woodland  fare. 

And  showed  her  guest  a  seat. 
She  bade  the  saintly  stranger  lave 
His  feet  in  water  which  she  gave, 

And  sit  and  rest  and  eat. 
He  kept  his  eager  glances  bent 
On  her  so  kindly  eloquent, 
Wife  of  the  noblest  king  ; 
And  longed  in  heart  to  steal  her  thence, 
Preparing  by  the  dire  offence, 
Death  on  his  head  to  bring. 


1  The  Rudras,  agents  in  creation,  are 
eight  in  number ;  they  sprang  from  the 
forehead  of  Brahma. 

'*>  Maruts,  the  attendants  of  Indra. 

3  Radiant  demi-goda. 


284 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  III. 


The  lady  watched  with  anxious  face 
For  Kama  corning  from  the  chase 

With  Lakshrnan  by  his  side  : 
But  nothing  met  her  wandering  glance 
Save  the  wild  forest's  green  expanse 

Extending  far  and  wide. 

CANTO  XLVII. 
RAVAN'S  WOOING. 

As,  clad  in  mendicant's  disguise, 
He  questioned  thus  his  destined  prize, 
She  to  the  seeming  saintly  man 
The  story  of  her  life  began. 
*  My  guest  is  he,'  she  thought,  4  and  I, 
To  'scape  his  curse,  must  needs  reply  : ' 
4  Child  of  a  noble  sire  I  spring 
From  Janak,  fair  Videha's  king. 
May  every  good  be  thine  !  my  name 
3s  bita,  Rama's  cherished  dame. 
Twelve  winters  with  my  lord  I  spent 
Most  happily  with  sweet  content 
In  the  rich  home  of  Raghu's  line, 
And  every  earthly  joy  was  mine. 
Twelve  pleasant  years  flew  by,  and  then 
His  peers  advised  the  king  of  men, 
Kama,  my  lord,  to  consecrate 
Joint  ruler  of  his  ancient  state. 
But  when  the  rites  were  scarce  begun, 
To  consecrate  Ikshvaku's  son, 
The  queen  Kaikeyi,  honoured  dame, 
Sought  of  her  lord  an  ancient  claim. 
Her  plea  of  former  service  pressed, 
And  made  him  grant  her  new  request, 
To  banish  Rama  to  the  wild 
And  consecrate  instead  her  child. 
This  double  prayer  on  him,  the  best 
And  truest  king,  she  strongly  pressed : 
4  Mine  eyes  in  sleep  I  will  not  close, 
Nor  eat,  nor  drink,  nor  take  repose. 
This  very  day  my  death  shall  bring 
If  Rama  be  anointed  king.' 
As  thus  she  spake  in  envious  ire, 
The  aged  king,  my  husband's  sire, 
Besought  with  fitting  words  ;  but  she 
Was  cold  and  deaf  to  every  plea. 
As  yet  my  days  are  few  ;  eighteen 
The  years  of  life  that  I  have  seen  ; 
And  Rarna,  best  of  all  alive, 
Has  passed  of  years  a  score  and  five- 
llama  the  great  and  gentle,  through 
All  region  famed  as  pure  and  true, 
Large-eyed  and  mighty -armed  and  tall. 
With  tender  heart  that  cares  for  all. 
But  Dasaratha,  led  astray 
By  woman's  wile  and  passion's  sway, 
By  his  strong  love  of  her  impelled, 
The  consecrating  rites  withheld. 
Whea,  hopeful  of  the  promised  grace, 


My  R5ma  sought  his  father's  face, 
The  queen  Kaikeyi,  ill  at  ease, 
Spoke  to  my  lord  brief  words  like  these  : 
4  Hear,  son  of  Raghu,  hear  from  me 
The  words  thy  father  says  to  thee : 
1 1  yield  this  day  to  Bharat's  hand, 
Free  from  all  foes,  this  ancient  land. 
Fly  from  this  home  no  longer  thine, 
And  dwell  in  woods  five  years  and  nine. 
Live  in  the  forest  and  maintain 
Mine  honour  pure  from  falsehood's  stain.' 
Then  Rama  spoke,  untouched  by  dread  ; 
'  Yea,  it  shall  be  as  thou  hast  said.' 
And  answered,  faithful  to  his  vows, 
Obeying  Dasaratha's  spouse : 
'  The  offered  realm  I  would  not  take, 
But  still  keep  true  the  words  he  spake.' 
Thus,  gentle  Brahman,  Rdma  still 
Clung  to  his  vow  with  firmest  will. 
And  valiant  Lakshman,  dear  to  fame, 
His  brother  by  a  younger  dame, 
Bold  victor  in  the  deadly  fray, 
Would  follow  Rama  on  his  way. 
On  sternest  vows  his  heart  was  set, 
And  lie,  a  youthful  anchoret, 
Bound  up  in  twisted  coil  his  hair 
And  took  the  garb  which  hermits  wear  ; 
Then  with  his  bow  to  guard  us,  lie 
Went  forth  with  Rama  and  with  me. 
By  Queen  KaiUeyi's  art  bereft 
The  kingdom  and  our  home  we  left, 
And  bound  by  stern  religious  vows 
We  sought  this  shade  of  forest  boughs. 
Now,  best  of  Brahmans,  here  we  tread 
These  pathless  regions  dark  and  dread, 
But  come,  refresh  thy  soul,  and  rest 
Here  for  a  while  an  honoured  guest. 
For  he,  my  lord,  will  soon  be  here 
With  fresh  supply  of  woodland  cheer, 
Large  store  of  venison  of  the  buck, 
Or  some  great  boar  his  hand  has  struck. 
Meanwhile,  O  stranger,  grant  my  prayer  : 
Thy  name,  thy  race,  thy  birth  declare. 
And  why  with  no  companion  thou 
Roamest  in  Dandak  forest  now.' 

Thus  questioned  Sita,  Rama's  dame. 
Then  fierce  the  stranger's  answer  came  : 
*  Lord  of  the  giant  legions,  he 
From  whom  celestial  armies  flee,— 
The  dread  of  hell  and  earth  and  sky, 
Ravan  the  Rakshas  king  am  I. 
Now  when  thy  gold -like  form  I  view 
Arrayed  in  silks  of  amber  hue, 
My  love,  O  thou  of  perfect  mould, 
For  all  my  dames  is  dead  and  cold. 
A  thousand  fairest  women,  torn 
From  many  a  land  my  home  adorn. 
But  come, 'loveliest  lady,  be 
The  queen  of  every  dame  and  me. 
My  city  Lanka,  glorious  town, 
Looks  from  a  mountain's  forehead  down 


Canto  XLV1JL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


285 


Where  ocean  with  his  flash  and  foam 
Beats  madly  on  mine  island  home. 
With  me,  O  Sita,  shalt  tliou  rove 
Delighted  through  each  shady  grove, 
Nor  shall  thy  happy  breast  retain 
Fond  memory  of  tnis  life  of  pain. 
In  gay  attire,  a  glittering  band, 
Five  thousand   maids  shall  round  thee 

stand, 

And  serve  thee  at  thy  beck  and  sign, 
If  thou,  fair  Sita,  wilt  be  mine.' 

Then  forth  her  noble  passion  broke 
As  thus  in  turn  the  lady  spoke  : 
4  Me,  me  the  wife  of  Kama,  him 
The  li"n  lord  with  lion's  limb, 
Strong  as  the  sea,  firm  as  the  rock, 
Like  Indra  in  the  battle  shock; 
Tne  lord  of  each  auspicious  sign, 
The  glory  of  his  princely  line, 
Like  some  fair  Lodli  tree  strong  and  tall, 
The  noblest  and  the  best  of  all, 
Rama,  the  heir  of  happy  fate 
Who  keeps  his  word  inviolate, 
Lord  of  the  lion  gait,  possessed 
Of  mighty  arm  and  ample  chest, 
llama  the  lion* warrior,  him 
Wiiose  moon  bright  face  no  fear  can  dim, 
liama,  his  bridled  passions'  lord, 
The  darling  whom  his  sire  adored, — 
Me,  me  tiie  true  and  loving  dame 
Of  llama,  prince  of  deathless  fame,— 
Me  wouldst  thou  vainly  woo  and  press  ? 
A  jackal  woo  a  lioness  ! 
Steal  from  the  sun  his  glory  !  such 
Tay  hope  Lord  Rama's  wife  to  touch. 
Ha!  thou  hast  seen  the  trees  of  gold, 
The  sign  which  dying  eyes  behold, 
Tnus  seeking,  weary  of  thy  life, 
To  win  the  love  of  Rama's  wife. 
Fool  !  wilt  thou  dare  to  rend  away 
The  famished  lion's  bleeding  prey, 
Or  from  the  threatening  jaws  to  take 
The  fang  of  some  envenomed  snake  ? 
What,  wouldst  thou  shake  with  puny  hand 
Mount  Mandar, '  towering  o'er  the  land, 
Put  poison  to  thy  lips  and  think 
The  deadly  cup  a  harmless  drink  ? 
With  pointed  needle  touch  thine  eye, 
A  razor  to  thy  tongue  apply, 
Who  wouldst  pollute  with  impious  touch 
The  wife  whom  Rama  loves  so  much  ? 
Be  round  thy  neck  a  millstone  tied, 
And  svvirn  the  sea  from  side  to  side  ; 
Or  raising  both  thy  hands  on  high 
Flujk  sun  and  moon  from  yonder  sky  ; 
Or  let  the  kindled  name  be  pressed, 
Wrapt  in  thy  garment,  to  thy  breast ; 


1  The  mountain  which  was  used  by  the 
Gods  as  a  churning  stick  at  the  Churning 
of  the  Ocean. 


More  wild  the  thought  that  seeks  to  win 
Rama's  dear  wife  who  knows  not  sin. 
The  fool  who  thinks  with  idle  aim 
To  gain  the  love  of  Rama's  dame, 
With  dark  and  desperate  footing  makes 
His  way  o'er  points  of  iron  stakes. 
As  Ocean  to  a  bubbling  spring, 
The  lion  to  a  fox,  the  king 
Of  all  the  birds  that  ply  the  wing 

To  an  ignoble  crow. 
As  gold  to  lead  of  little  price, 
As  to  the  drain  ings  of  the  rice 
The  drink  they  quaff  in  Paradise, 

Tne  Amrit's  heavenly  fl^w, 
As  sandal  dust  with  perfume  sweet 
Is  t.>  the  mire  that  soils  our  feet. 

A  tiger  to  a  cat, 
As  the  white  swan  is  to  the  owl, 
The  peacock  to  the  waterfowl, 

An  eagle  to  a  bat, 

Such  is  my  lord  compared  with  thee  ; 
And  when  with  bow  and  arrows  he, 
Mighty  as  Indra's  self  shall  see 

His  foeman,  armed  to  slay, 
Thou,  death-doomed  lik#  the  fly  that  sips 
The  oil  that  on  the  altar  drips, 
Shalt  cast  the  morsel  from  thy  lips 

And  lose  thy  half -won  prey..' 
Thus  in  high  scorn  the  lady  flung 
Tne  biting  arrows  of  her  tongue 
In  bitter  words  that  pierced  and  stung 

The  rover  of  the  night. 
She  ceased.  Her  gentle  cheek  grew  pale, 
Her  loosened  limbs  began  to  fail, 
And  like  a  plantain  in  the  gale 

She  trembled  with  affright. 
He  terrible  as  Death  stood  nigh, 
And  watched  with  lierce  exulting  eye 

The  fear  that  shook  her  frame. 
To  terrify  the  lady  more, 
He  counted  all  his  triumphs  o'er, 
Proclaimed  the  titles  that  he  bore, 

His  pedigree  and  name. 

CANTO  XLVIII. 


RAVAN'S  SPEECH, 

With  knitted  brow  and  furious  eye 
The  stranger  made  his  fierce  reply  : 
*  In  me  O  fairest  dame,  behold 
The  brother  of  the  King  of  Gold. 
The  Lord  of  Ten  Necks  my  title,  named 
Ravan,  for  might  and  valour  famed. 
Gods  and  Gandharva  hosts  I  scare  ; 
Snakes,  spirits,  birds  that  roam  the  air 
Fly  from  iny  coming,  wild  with  fear, 
Trembling  like  men  when  Death  is  near. 
Vaisravan  once,  my  brother,  wrought 
To  ire,  encountered  me  and  fought, 


286 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  III. 


But  yielding  to  superior  might 

Fled  from  his  home  in  sore  affright. 

Lord  of  the  man-drawn  chariot,  still 

He  dwells  on  famed  Kailasa's  hill. 

I  made  the  vanquished  king  resign 

The  glorious  car  which  now  is  mine,— 

Pushpak,  the  far-renowned,  that  rlies 

Will-guided  through  the  buxom  skies. 

Celestial  hosts  by  Indru  led 

Flee  from  my  face  disquieted, 

And  where  my  dreaded  feet  appear 

The  wind  is  hushed  or  breathless  is  fear. 

Where'er  I  stand,  where'er  I  go 

The  troubled  waters  cease  to  flow, 

Each  spell-bound  wave  is  mute  and  still 

And  the  tierce  sun  himself  is  chill. 

Beyond  the  sea  my  Lanka  stands 

Filled  with  fierce  forms  and  giant  bands, 

A  glorious  city  fair  to  see 

As  Indra's  Amaravati, 

A  towering  height  of  solid  wall, 

Flashing  afar,  surrounds  it  all, 

Its  golden  courts  enchant  the  sight, 

And  gates  aglow  with  lazulite. 

Steeds,  elephants,  and  cars  are  there, 

And  drums'  loud  music  fills  the  air, 

Fair  trees  in  lovely  gardens  grow 

Whose  boughs  with  varied  fruitage  glow. 

Thou,  beauteous  Queen,  with  me  shalt  dwell 

In  halls  that  suit  a  princess  well, 

Thy  former  fellows  shalt  forget 

Nor  think  of  women  with  regret, 

No  earthly  joy  thy  soul  shall  miss, 

And  take  its  fill  of  heavenly  bliss. 

Of  mortal  Kama  think  no  more, 

Whose  terms  of  days  will  soon  be  o'er. 

King  Dasaratha  looked  in  scorn 

On  Rama  though  the  eldest  born, 

Sent  to  the  woods  the  weakling  fool, 

And  set  his  darling  son  to  rule. 

What,  O  thou  large-eyed  dame,  hast  thou 

To  do  with  fallen  Kama  now, 

From  home  and  kingdom  forced  to  fly, 

A  wretched  hermit  soon  to  die  ? 

Accept  thy  lover,  nor  refuse 

The  giant  king  who  fondly  woos. 

<)  listen,  nor  reject  in  scorn 

A  heart  by  Kama's  arrows  torn. 

If  thou  refuse  to  hear  my  prayer, 

Of  grief  and  coming  woe  beware  ; 

For  the  sad  fate  will  fall  on  thee 

Which  came  on  hapless  Urvasi, 

When  with  her  foot  she  chanced  to  touch 

Pururavas,  and  sorrowed  much.1 

My  little  finger  raised  in  fight 

Were  more  than  match  for  Rama's  might. 

O  fairest,  blithe  and  happy  be 


1  The  story  will  be  found  in  GARRETT'S 
Classical  Dictionary.     See  ADDITIONAL 


With  him  whom  fortune  sends  to  thee.' 

Such  were  the  words  the  giant  said. 
And  Sita's  angry  eyes  were  red. 
She  answered  in  that  lonely  place 
The  monarch  of  the  giant  race  : 

'  Art  thou  the  brother  of  the  Lord 
Of  Gold  by  all  the  world  adored, 
And  sprung  of  that  illustrious  seed 
Wouldst  now  attempt  this  evil  deed  ? 
I  tell  thee,  impious  Monarch,  all 
The  giants  by  thy  sin  will  fall, 
Whose  reckless  lord  and  king  thou  art, 
With  foolish  mind  and  lawless  heart. 
Yea.  one  may  hope  to  steal  the  wife 
Of  Indra  and  escape  with  life. 
But  he  who  Rama's  dame  would  tear 
From  his  loved  side  must  needs  despair. 
Yea,  one  may  steal  fair  Sachi,  dame 
Of  Him  who  shoots  the  thunder  flame, 
May  live  successful  in  his  aim 

And  length  of  day  may  see; 
But  hope,  O  giant  King,  in  vain, 
Though  cups  of  Amrit  thou  may  drain, 
To  shun  the  penalty  and  pain 

Of  wronging  one  like  me.' 

CANTO  XLIX. 


THE  RAPE  OF  SIT  A'. 

The  Rakshas  monarch,  thus  addressed, 
His  hands  a  while  together  pressed, 
And  straight  before  her  startled  eyes 
Stood  monstrous  in  his  giant  size. 
Then  to  the  lady,  with  the  lore 
Of  eloquence,  he  spoke  once  more  : 
«  Thou  scarce,'  he  cried,  '  hast  heard  aright 
The  glories  of  my  power  and  might. 
I  borne  sublime  in  air  can  stand 
And  with  these  arms  upheave  the  land, 
Drink  the  deep  flood  of  Ocean  dry 
And  Death  with  conquering  force  defy, 
Pierce  the  great  sun  with  furious  dart 
And  to  her  depths  cleave  earth  apart. 
See,  thou  whom  love  and  beauty  blind, 
I  wear  each  form  as  wills  my  mind.' 

As  thus  he  spake  in  burning  ire 
His  glowing  eyes  were  red  with  fire. 
His  gentle  garb  aside  was  thrown 
And  all  his  native  shape  was  shown. 
Terrific,  monstrous,  wild,  and  dread 
As  the  dark  God  who  rules  the  dead, 
His  fiery  eyes  in  fury  rolled, 
His  limbs  were  decked  with  glittering  gold. 
Like  some  dark  cloud  the  monster  showed, 
And  his  fierce  breast  with  fury  glowed. 
The  ten-faced  rover  of  the  night, 
With  twenty  arms  exposed  to  sight, 
His  saintly  guise  aside  had  laid 
And  all  his  giant  height  displayed. 


Canto  XLIX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


287 


Attired  in  robes  of  crimson  dye 

He  stood  and  watched  with  angry  eye 

The  lady  in  her  bright  array 

Resplendent  as  the  dawn  of  day 

When  from  the  east  the  sunbeams   break, 

And  to  the  dark-haired  lady  spake  : 

1  If  thou  would  call  that  lord  thine  own 

Whose  fame  in  every  world  is  known, 

Look  kindly  on  my  love,  and  be 

Bride  of  a  consort  meet  for  thee. 

With  me  let  blissful  years  be  spent, 

For  ne'er  thy  choice  slialt  thou  repent. 

No  deed  of  mine  shall  e'er  displease 

My  darling  as  she  lives  at  ease. 

Thy  love  for  mortal  man  resign, 

And  to  a  worthier  lord  incline. 

Ah  foolish  lady,  seeming  wise 

In  thine  own  weak  and  partial  eyes, 

By  what  fair  graces  art  thou  held 

To  Rama  from  his  realm  expelled  '? 

Misfortunes  all  his  life  attend, 

And  his  brief  days  are  near  their  end. 

Unworthy  prince,  infirm  of  mind  ! 

A  woman  spoke,  and  he  resigned 

His  home  and  kingdom  and  withdrew 

From  troops  of  friends  and  retinue. 

And  sought  this  forest  dark  and  dread 

By  savage  beasts  inhabited.' 

Thus  Ravan  urged  the  lady  meet 
For  love,  whose  words  were  soft  and  sweet. 
Near  and  more  near  the  giant  pressed 
As  love's  hot  fire  inflamed  his  breast. 
The  leader  of  the  giant  crew 
His  arm  around  the  lady  threw  : 
Thus  Budha1  with  ill-omened  might 
Steals  Rohini's  delicious  light. 
One  hand  her  glorious  tresses  grasped, 
One  with  its  ruthless  pressure  clasped 
The  body  of  his  lovely  prize, 
The  Maithil  dame  with  lotus  eyes. 
The  silvan  Gods  in  wild  alarm 
Marked  his  huge  teeth  and  ponderous  arm, 
And  from  that  Death-like  presence  tied, 
Of  mountain  size  and  towering  head. 
Then  seen  was  Ravaa's  magic  car 
Aglow  with  gold  which  blazed  afar,— 
The  mighty  car  which  asses  drew 
Thundering  as  it  onward  flew. 
He  spared  not  harsh  rebuke  to  chide 
The  lady  as  she  moaned  and  cried, 
Then  with  his  arm  about  her  waist 
His  captive  in  the  car  he  placed. 
In  vain  he  threatened  :  long  and  shrill 
Bang  out  her  lamentation  still, 
O  Rarna !  which  no  fear  could  stay  : 
But  her  dear  lord  was  far  away. 
Then  rose  the  fiend,  and  toward  the  skies 
Bore  his  poor  helpless  struggling  prize : 

1  Mercury  :  to  be  carefully  distinguished 
from  Buddha. 


Hurrying  through  the  air  above 

The  dame  who  loathed  his  proffered  love 

So  might  a  soaring  eagle  bear 

A  serpent's  consort  through  the  air. 

As  on  he  bore  her  through  the  sky 

:she  shrieked  aloud  her  bitter  cry. 

As  when  some  wretch's  lips  complain 

In  agony  of  maddening  pain  ; 

*  O  Lakshrnan,  thou  whose  joy  is  still 

To  do  thine  elder  brother's  will, 

This  fiend,  who  all  disguises  wears, 

From  Rama's  side  his  darling  tears. 

Thou  who  couldst  leave  bliss,  fortune,  all, 

Yea  life  itself  at  duty's  call, 

Dost  thou  not  see  this  outrage  done 

To  hapless  me,  O  llaghu's  son  ? 

Tis  thine,  O  victor  of  the  foe, 

To  bring  the  haughtiest  spirit  low, 

How  canst  thou  such  an  outrage  see 

And  let  the  guilty  iiend  go  free? 

Ah,  seldom  in  a  moment's  time 

Comes  bitter  fruit  of  sin  and  crime, 

But  in  the  day  of  harvest  pain 

Comes  like  the  ripening  of  the  grain. 

So  thou  whom  fate  and  folly  lead 

To  ruin  for  this  guilty  deed, 

Shalt  die  by  Kama's  arm  ere  long 

A  dreadful  death  for  hideous  wrong. 

Ah,  too  successful  in  their  ends 

Are  Queen  Kaikeyi  and  her  friends, 

When  virtuous  Rama,  dear  to  fame, 

Is  mourning  for  his  ravished  dame. 

Ah  me,  uh  me  !  a  long  farewell 

To  lawn  and  glade  and  forest  dell 

In  Janasthan's  wild  region,  where 

The  Cassia  trees  are  bright  and  fair  ! 

With  all  your  tongues  co  Rama  say 

That  Ravan  bears  his  wife  away. 

Farewell,  a  long  farewell  to  thee, 

O  pleasant  stream  Godavari, 

Whose  rippling  waves  are  ever  stirred 

By  many  a  glad  wild  water-bird  ! 

All  ye  to  Rama's  ear  relate 

The  giant's  deed  and  Sitas  fate. 

0  all  ye  Gods  who  love  this  ground 
Where  trees  of  every  leaf  abound. 
Tell  Rama  I  am  stolen  hence, 

1  pray  you  all  with  reverence. 
On  all  the  living  things  beside 

That  these  dark  boughs  and  coverts  hide, 
Ye  flocks  of  birds,  ye  troops  of  deer, 
I  call  on  you  my  prayer  to  hear. 
All  ye  to  Rama's  ear  proclaim 
That  Ravan  tears  away  his  dame 
With  forceful  arms, — his  darling  wife, 
Dearer  to  Rama  than  his  life. 
O,  if  he  knew  I  dwelt  in  hell, 
My  mighty  lord,  I  know  full  well, 
Would  bring  me,  conqueror,  back  to-day, 
Though  Yama's  self  reclaimed  his  prey.' 
Thus  from  the  air  the  lady  sent 


288 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  III. 


With  piteous  voice  her  last  lament, 
And  as  she  wept  she  chanced  to  see 
The  vulture  on  a  lofty  tree. 
As  Kavan  bore  her  swiftly  bv, 
On  the  dear  bird  she  bent  her  eye, 
And  with  a  voice  which  woe  made  faint 
Renewed  to  him  her  wild  complaint : 
4  O  see,  the  king  who  rules  the  race 
Of  giants,  cruel,  tierce  and  base, 
Ravan  the  spoiler  bears  me  hence 
The  helpless  prev  of  violence. 
This  fiend  who  roves  in  midnight  shade 
By  thee,  dear  bird,  can  ne'er  be  stayed, 
For  he  is  armed  and  fierce  and  strong 
Triumphant  in  the  power  to  wrong. 
For  thee  remains  one  only  task, 
To  do,  kind  friend,  the  thing  I  ask. 
To  Rama's  ear  by  thee  be  borne 
How  Sita  from  her  home  is  torn, 
And  to  the  valiant  Lakshman  tell 
The  giant's  deed  and  what  befell.' 

CANTO  L. 
J  AT  AT  US. 

The  vulture  from  his  slumber  woke 
And  heard  the  words  which  Sita  spoke. 
He  raised  his  eye  and  looked  on  her, 
Looked  on  her  giant  ravisher. 
That  noblest  bird  with  pointed  beak, 
Majestic  as  a  mountain  peak, 
High  on  the  tree  addressed  the  king 
Of  giants,  wisely  c  tunnelling: 
«  O  Ten-necked  lord,  I  firmly  hold 
To  faith  and  laws  ordained  <>f  old, 
And  thou,  my  brother,  shouldst  refrain 
From  guilty  deeds  that  shame  arid  stain. 
The  vulture  king  supreme  in  air, 
Jatayus  is  the  name  I  bear. 
Thy  captive,  known  by  Sita's  name, 
Is  the  dear  consort  and  the  dame 
Of  Rama  Dasaratha's  heir 
\Vho  makes  the  good  of  all  his  care. 
Lord  of  the  world,  in  might  he  vies 
With  the  great  Gods  of  seas  and  skies. 
The  law  he  boasts  to  keep  allows 
No  king  to  touch  another's  spouse, 
And.  more  than  all,  a  prince's  dame 
High  honour  and  respect  rnay  claim. 
Back  to  the  earth  thy  way  incline, 
Nor  think  of  one  who  is  riot  thine. 
Heroic  souls  should  hold  it  shame 
To  stoop  to  deeds  which  others  blame, 
And  all  respect  by  them  is  shown 
To  dames  of  others  as  their  own. 
Not  every  case  of  bliss  and  gain 
The  Scripture's  holy  texts  explain, 
And  subjects,  when  that  light  is  dim, 
Look  to  their  prince  and  follow  him. 


The  king  is  bliss  and  profit,  lie 
Is  store  of  treasures  fair  to  see, 
And  all  the  people's  fortunes  spring, 
Their  joy  and  misery,  from  the  king. 
If,  lord  of  giant  race,  thy  mind 
Be  fickle,  false,  to  sin  inclined. 
How  wilt  thou  kingly  place  retain  ? 
High  thrones  in  heaven  no  sinners  gain. 
The  soul  which  gentle  passions  sway 
Ne'er  throws  its  nobler  part  away, 
Nor  will  the  mansion  of  the  base 
Long  be  the  good  man's  dwelling-place. 
Prince  Rama,  chief  of  high  renown, 
Has  wronged  thee  not  in  field  or  town. 
Ne'er  lias  he  sinned  against  thee  :  how 
Canst  thou  resolve  to  harm  him  now  ? 
If  moved  by  Hurpanklia's  prayer 
The  giant  Khara  sought  him  there, 
And  fighting  fell  with  baffled  aim, 
His  and  not  Kama's  is  the  blame. 
Say,  mighty  lord  of  giants,  say 
What  fault  on  Rama  canst  thou  lay  ? 
What  has  the  world's  great  master  done 
That  thou  should  steal  his  precious  one? 
Quick,  quick  the  Maithil  dame  release  ; 
Let  Rama's  consort  g  >  in  peace, 
Lest  scorched  by  his  terrific  eye 
Beneath  his  wrath  thou  fall  and  die 
Like  Vritra  when  Lord  Indra  threw 
Trie  lightning  flame  that  smote  and  slew. 
Ah  fool,  with  blinded  eyes  to  take 
Home  to  thy  heart  a  venomed  snake  ! 
Ah  foolish  eyes,  too  blind  to  see 
That  Death's  dire  coils  entangle  thee! 
The  prudent  man  his  strength  will  spare, 
Nor  lift  a  load  too  great  to  bear. 
Content  is  he  with  wholsorne  food 
Which  gives  him  life  and  strength  renewed 
But  who  would  dare  the  guilty  deed 
That  brings  no  fame  or  glorious  meed, 
Where  merit  there  is  none  to  win 
And  vengeance  soon  o'erbakes  the  sin  ? 
My  course  of  life,  Pulastya  s  son, 
For  sixty  thousand  years' has  run. 
Lord  of  my  kind  I  still  maintain 
Mine  old  hereditary  reign. 
I,  worn  by  years,  am  older  far 
Than  th  >u,  young  lord  of  bow  and  car, 
In  coat  of  glittering  mail  encased 
And  armed  with  arrows  at  thy  waist, 
Hut  not  unchallenged  shalt  thou  go, 
Or  steal  the  dame  without  a  blow. 
Tliou  canst  not,  King,  before  mine  eyes 
Bear  off  uii3hecked  thy  lovely  prize, 
Safe  as  the  truth  of  Scripture  bent 
By  no  close  logic's  argument. 
Stay  if  thy  courage  let  thee,  stay 
And  meet  me  in  the  battle  fray, 
And  thou  shalt  stain  the  earth  with  gore 
Falling  as  Khara  fell  before. 

Rama,  clothed  in  bark,  shall  smite. 


Canto  LI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


289 


Thee,  his  proud  foe,  in  deadly  fight,— 
Rama,  from  whom  have  oft  times  fled 
The  Daitya  hosts  discomfited. 
No  power  have  1  to  kill  or  slay: 
The  princely  youths  are  far  away, 
]Uit  soon  shaft  thou  with  fearful  eye 
Struck  down  beneath  their  arrows  lie, 
But  while  I  yet  have  life  and  sense, 
Thou  shalt  not,  tyrant,  carry  hence 
Fair  Sita,  Kama's  honoured  queen, 
With  lotus  eyes  and  lovely  rnien. 
Whate'er  the  pain,  whate'er  the  cost, 
Though  in  the  struggle  life  be  lost, 
The  will  of  Raghu's  noblest  son 
And  Dasaratha  must  be  done. 
Stay  for  a  while,  O  Ravan,  stay, 
One  hour  thy  flying  car  delay, 
And  from  that  glorious  chariot  thou 
Shalt  fall  like  fruit  from  shaken  bough, 
For  I  to  thee,  while  yet  I  live, 
The  welcome  of  a  foe  will  give.' 


CANTO  LI. 


THE  COMBAT. 

Ravan's  red  eyes  in  fury  rolled  : 
Bright  with  his  armlets'  flashing  gold, 
In  high  disdain,  by  passion  stirred 
He  rushed  against  the  sovereign  bird. 
With  clash  and  din  and  furious  blows 
Of  murderous  battle  met  the  foes  : 
Thus  urged  by  winds  two  clouds  on  high 
Meet  warring  in  the  stormy  sky. 
Then  fierce  the  dreadful  combat  raged 
As  fiend  and  bird  in  war  engaged, 
As  if  two  winged  mountains  sped 
To  dire  encounter  overhead. 
Keen  pointed  arrows  thick  and  fast, 
In  never  ceasing  fury  cast. 
Rained  hurtling  on  the  vulture  king 
And  smote  him  on  the  breast  and  wing. 
But  still  that  noblest  bird  sustained 
The  cloud  of  shafts  which  Ravan  rained, 
And  with  strong  beak  and  talons  bent 
The  body  of  his  foeman  rent. 
Then  wild  with  rage  the  ten-necked  king 
Laid  ten  swift  arrows  on  his  string, — 
Dread  as  the  staff  of  Death  were  they, 
So  terrible  and  keen  to  slay. 
Straight  to  his  ear  the  string  he  drew, 
Straight  to  the  mark  the  arrows  flew, 
And  pierced  by  every  iron  head 
The  vulture's  mangled  body  bled. 
One  glance  upon  the  car  he  bent 
Where  Sita  wept  with  shrill  lament, 
Then  heedless  of  his  wounds  and  pain 
Rushed  at  the  giant  king  again. 
Then  the  brave  vulture  with  the  stroke 
Of  his  resistless  talons  broke 


The  giant's  shafts  and  bow  whereon 
The  fairest  pearls  and  jewels  shone. 
The  monster  paused,  by  rage  unmanned  : 
A  second  bow  soon  armed  his  hand, 
Whence  point jd  arrows  swift  and  true 
In  hundreds,  yea  in  thousands,  flew. 
The  monarch  of  the  vultures,  plied 
With  ceaseless  darts  on  every  side. 
Showed  like  a  bird  that  turns  to  rest 
Close  covered  by  the  branch-built  nest. 
He  shook  his  pinions  to  repel 
The  storm  of  arrows  as  it  fell ; 
Then  with  his  talons  snapped  in  two 
The  mighty  bow  which  Ravan  drew. 
Next  with  terrinc  wing  he  sniote 
So  fiercely  on  the  giant's  coat, 
The  harness,  glittering  with  the  glow 
Of  fire,  gave  way  beneath  the  blow. 
With  storm  of  murderous  strokes  he  beat 
The  harnessed  asses  strong  and  fleet,— 
Each  with  a  goblin's  monstrous  face 
And  plates  of  gold  his  neck  to  grace, 
Then  on  the  car  he  turned  his  ire,— 
The  will -moved  car  that  shone  like  fire, 
And  broke  the  glorious  chariot,  broke 
The  golden  steps  and  pole  and  yoke. 
The  chouris  and  the  silken  shade 
Like  the  full  moon  to  view  displayed, 
Together  with  the  guards  who  held 
Those  emblems,  to  the  ground  he  felled. 
The  royal  vulture  hovered  o'er 
The  driver's  head,  and  pierced  and  tore 
With  his  strong  beak  and  dreaded  claws 
His  mangled  brow  and  cheek  and  jaws. 
With  broken  car  and  sundered  bow, 
His  charioteer  and  team  laid  low, 
One  arm  about  the  lady  wound, 
Sprang  the  fierce  giant  to  the  ground. 
Spectators  of  the  combat,  all 
The  spirits  viewed  the  monster's  fall : 
Lauding  the  vulture  every  one 
Cried  with  glad  voice,  Well  done  I   well 

done ! 

But  weak  with  length  of  days,  at  last 
The  vulture's  strength  was  failing  fast. 
The  fiend  again  assayed  to  bear 
The  lady  through  the  fields  of  air. 
But  when  the  vulture  saw  him  rise 
Triumphant  with  his  trembling  prize,. 
Bearing  the  sword  that  still  was  left 
When  other  arms  were  lost  or  cleft, 
Once  more,  impatient  of  repose, 
Swift  from  the  earth  her  champion  rose, 
Hung  in  the  way  the  fiend  would  take, 
And  thus  addressing  Havan  spake  : 
*  Thou,  King  of  giants,  rash  and  blind, 
Wilt  be  the  ruin  of  thy  kind, 
Stealing  the  wife  of  Rama,  him 
With  lightning  scars  on  chest  and  limb, 
A  mighty  host  obeys  his  will 
And  troops  of  slaves  his  palace  fill  ; 


290 


THE  HAM  AY  AN. 


SooJc  111. 


His  lords  of  state  are  wise  and  true, 

Kinsmen  has  lie  and  retinue. 

As  thirsty  travellers  drain  the  cup, 

Tiiou  drinkest  deadly  poison  up. 

The  rash  and  careless  fool  who  heeds 

No  coming  fruit  of  guilty  deeds, 

A  few  short  years  of  life  shall  see, 

And  perish  doomed  to  death  like  thee. 

Say  whither  wilt  thou  fly  to  loose 

Thy  neck  from  Death's  entangling  noose, 

Caught  like  the  fish  that  tinds  too  late 

The  hook  beneath  the  treacherous  bait? 

Never,  O  King— of  this  be  sure — 

Will  Raghu's  fiery  sons  endure, 

Terrific  in  their  vengeful  rage, 

This  insult  to  their  hermitage. 

Thy  guilty  hands  this  day  have  done 

A  deed  which  all  reprove  and  shun, 

Unworthly  of  a  noble  chief, 

The  pillage  loved  by  coward  thief. 

Stay,  if  thy  heart  allow  thee,  stay 

And  meet  me  in  the  deadly  fray. 

Soon  shalt  thou  stain  the  earth  with  gore, 

And  fall  as  Khara  fell  before. 

The  fruits  of  former  deeds  o'erpower 

The  sinner  in  his  dying  hour  : 

And  such  a  fate  on  thee,  O  King, 

Thy  tyranny  and  madness  bring. 

Not  e'en  the  Self-existent  Lord, 

Who  reigns  by  all  the  worlds  adored, 

Would  dare  attempt  a  guilty  deed 

Which  the  dire  fruits  of  crime  succeed.' 

Tims  brave  Jatayus,  best  of  birds, 
Addressed  the  fiend  with  moving  words, 
Then  ready  for  the  swift  attack 
Swooped  down  upon  the  giant's  back. 
Down  to  the  bone  the  talons  went : 
With  many  a  wound  the  rlesh  was  rent : 
Such  blows  infuriate  drivers  deal 
Their  elephants  with  pointed  steel. 
Fixed  in  his  back  the  strong  beak  lay, 
The  talons  stripped  the  flesh  away. 
He  fought  with  claws  and  beak  and  wing, 
And  tore  the  long  hair  of  the  king. 
Still  as  the  royal  vulture  beat 
The  giant  with  his  wings  and  feet, 
Swelled  the  fiend's  lips,  his  body  shook 
With  furious  rage  too  great  to  brook. 
About  the  Maithil  dame  he  cast 
One  huge  left  arm  and  held  her  fast. 
In  furious  rage  to  frenzy  fanned 
He  struck  the  vulture  with  his  hand. 
Jatayus  mocked  the  vain  assay, 
Arid  rent  his  ten  left  arms  away. 
Down  dropped  the  severed  limbs  :  anew 
Ten  others  from  his  body  grew : 
Thus  bright  with  pearly  radiance  glide 
Dread  serpents  from  the  hillock  side, 
Again  in  wrath  the  giant  pressed 
The  lady  closer  to  his  breast, 
And  foot  and  fist  sent  blow  on  blow 


In  ceaseless  fury  at  the  foe. 
So  fierce  and  dire  the  battle,  waged 
Between  those  mighty  champions,  raged  j 
Here  was  the  lord  of  giants,  there 
The  noblest  of  the  birds  of  air* 
Thus,  as  his  love  of  Rama  taught, 
The  faithful  vulture  strove  and  fought. 
But  Ravan  seized  his  sword  and  smote 
His  wings 'and  side  and  feet  and  throat. 
At  mangled  side  and  wing  he  bled  ; 
He  fell,  and  life  was  almost  fled. 
The  lady  saw  her  champion  lie, 
His  plumes  distained  with  gory  dye, 
And  hastened  to  the  vulture's  side 
Grieving  as  though  a  kinsman  died. 
The  lord  of  Lanka's  island  viewed 

The  vulture  as  he  lay  : 
Whose  back  like  some  dark  cloud  was 

hued, 

His  breast  a  paly  grey, 
Like  ashes,  when  by  none  renewed, 

The  flame  has  died  away. 
The  lady  saw  with  mournful  eye. 

Her  champion  press  the  plain, — 
The  royal  bird,  her  true  ally 

Whom  Ravau's  might  had  slain. 
Her  soft  arms  locked  in  strict  embrace 

Around  his  neck  she  kept, 
And  lovely  with  her  moon-bright  face 
Bent  o'er  her  friend  and  wept. 


CANTO  LII. 


RAVAN'S  FLIGHT. 

Fair  as  the  lord  of  silvery  rays 
Whom  every  star  in  heaven  obeys, 
The  Maithil  dame  her  plaint  renewed 
O'er  him  by  Ravan's  might  subdued  : 
'  Dreams,  omens,  a'uguries  foreshow 
Our  coming  lot  of  weal  and  woe  : 
But  thou,  my  Rama,  couldst  not  see 
The  grievous  blow  which  falls  on  thee. 
The  birds  and  deer  desert  the  brakes 
And  show  the  path  my  captor  takes, 
And  thus  e'en  now  this  royal  bird 
Flew  to  mine  aid  by  pity  stirred. 
Slain  for  my  sake  in  death  he  lies. 
The  broad-winged  rover  of  the  skiea. 
O  Rama,  haste,  thine  aid  I  crave  : 
O  Lakshman.  why  delay  to  save  ? 
Brave  sons  of  old  Ikshvaku,  hear 
And  rescue  in  this  hour  of  fear.' 

Her  flowery  wreath  was  torn  and  rent, 
Crushed  was  each  sparkling  ornament. 
She  with  weak  arms  and  trembling  kiiees 
Clung  like  a  creeper  to  the  trees, 
And  like  some  poor  deserted  thing 
With  wild  shrieks  made  the  forest  ring. 
But  swift  the  giant  reached  her  side, 


Canto  LIT. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


291 


As  loud  on  Kama's  name  she  cried. 
Fierce  as  grim  Death  one  hand  he  laid 
Upon  her  tresses'  lovely  braid. 
That  touoh,  them  impious  King,  shall  be 
The  ruin  of  thy  race  and  thee. 
The  universal  world  in  awe 
That,  outrage  on  the  lady  saw. 
All  nature  shook  convulsed  with  dread, 
And  darkness  o'er  the  land  was  spread. 
The  Lord  of  Day  grew  dark  and  chill, 
And  every  breath  of  air  was  still. 
The  Eternal  Father  of  the  sky 
Beheld  the  crime  with  heavenly  eye, 
And  spake  with  solemn  voice,  '  The  deed, 
The  deed  is  done,  of  old  decreed.' 
Sad  were  the  saints  within  the  grove, 
But  triumph  with  their  sorrow  strove. 
They  wept  to  see  the  Maithil  dame 
Endure  the  outrage,  scorn,  and  shame  : 
They  joyed  because  his  life  should  pay 
The  penalty  incurred  that  day. 
Then  Kavan  raised  her  up,  and  bare 
His  captive'through  the  fields  of  air, 
Calling  with  accents  loud  and  shrill 
On  Rama  and  on  Lakshman  still. 
With  sparkling  gerns  on  arm  and  breast, 
In  silk  of  paly  amber  dressed, 
High  in  the  air  the  Maithil  dame 
Gleamed  like  the  lightning's  flashing  flame. 
The  giant,  as  the  breezes  blew 
Upon  her  robes  of  amber  hue, 
And  round  him  twined  that  gay  attire, 
Showed  like  a  mountain  girt  with  fire. 
The  lady,  fairest  of  the  fair, 
Had  wreathed  a  garland  round  her  hair  ; 
Its   lotus  petals  bright  and  sweet 
Rained  down  about  the  giant's  feet. 
Her  vesture,  bright  as  burning  gold, 
Gave  to  the  wind  each  glittering  fold, 
Fair  as  a  gilded  cloud  that  gleams 
Touched  by  the  Day-God's  tempered  beams. 
Yet  struggling  in  the  fiend's  embrace, 
The  lady  with  her  sweet  pure  face, 
Far  from  her  lord,  no  longer  wore 
The  light  of  joy  that  shone  before. 
Like  some  sad  lily  by  the  side 
Of  waters  which  the  sun  has  dried  : 
Like  the  pale  moon  uprising  through 
An  autumn  cloud  of  darkest  hue, 
So  was  her  perfect  face  between 
The  arms  of  giant  Ravan  seen  : 
Fair  with  the  charm  of  braided  tress 
And  forehead's  finished  loveliness  ; 
Fair  with  the  ivory  teeth  that  shed 
White  lustre  through  the  lips'  fine  red, 
Fair  as  the  lotus  when  the  bud 
Is  rising  from  the  parent  flood. 
With  faultless  lip  and  nose  and  eye. 
Dear  as  the  moon  that  floods  the  sky 
With  gentle  light,  of  perfect  mould, 
She  seemed  a  thing  of  burnished  gold, 


Though  on  her  cheek  the  traces  lay 
Of  tears  her  hand  had  brushed  away. 
But  as  the  moon-beams  swiftly  fade 
Ere  the  great  Day-God  shines  displayed, 
So  in  that  form  of  perfect  grace 
Still  trembling  in  the  fiend  s  embrace, 
From  her  beloved  R&ma  reft. 
No  light  of  pride  or  joy  was  left. 
The  lady  with  her  golden  hue 
O'er  the  swart  fiend  a  lustre  threw, 
As  when  embroidered  girths  enfold 
An  elephant  with  gleams  of  gold. 
Fair  as  the  lily's  bending  stem, — 
Her  arms  adorned  with  many  a  gem, 
A  lustre  to  the  fiend  she  lent 
Gleaming  from  every  ornament. 
As  when  the  cloud-shot  flashes  light 
The  shadows  of  a  mountain  height. 
Whene'er  the  breezes  earthward  bore 
The  tinkling  of  the  zone  she  wore, 
He  seemed  a  cloud  of  darkness  hue 
Sending  forth  murmurs  as  it  flew. 
As  on  her  way  the  dame  was  sped 
From  her  sweet  neck  fair  flowers  were  shed, 
The  swift  wind  caught  the  flowery  rain 
And  poured  it  o'er  the  fiend  again. 
The  wind-stirred  blossoms,  sweet  to  smell, 
On  the  dark  brows  of  Ravan  fell, 
Like  lunar  constellations  set 
On  Meru  for  a  coronet. 
From  her  small  foot  an  anklet  fair 
With  jewels  slipped,  and  through  the  air, 
Like  a  bright  circlet  of  the  flame 
Of  thunder,  to  the  valley  came. 
The  Maithil  lady,  fair  to  see 
As  the  young  leaflet  of  a  tree 
Clad  in  the  tender  hues  of  spring, 
Flashed  glory  on  the  giant  king, 
As  when  a  gold-embroidered  zone 
Around  an  elephant  is  thrown. 
While,  bearing  far  the  lady,  through 
The  realms  of  sky  the  giant  flew, 
She  like  a  gleaming  meteor  cast 
A  glory  round  her  as  she  passed. 
Then  from  each  limb  in  swift  descent 
Dropped  many  a  sparkling  ornament ; 
On  earth  they  rested  dim  and  pale 
Like  fallen  stars  when  virtues  fail.* 
Around  her  neck  a  garland  lay 
Bright  as  the  Star-God's  silvery  ray  : 
It  fell  and  flashed  like  Ganga  sent 
From  heaven  above  the  firmament.? 
The  birds  of  every  wing  had  flocked 
To  stately  trees  by  breezes  rocked  : 

1  The  spirits  of  the  good  dwell  in  heaven 
until  their  store  of  accumulated  merit  ig 
exhausted.  Then  they  redescend  to  earth 
in  the  form  of  falling  stars. 

*  See  The  Descent  of  Ganga,  Book  I 
Canto  XLIV. 


292 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


Boole  III 


These  bowed  their  wind-swept  heads  and 

said  : 

•My  lady  sweet,  be  comforted.' 
With  faded  blooms  each  brook  within 
Whose  waters  moved  no  gleamy  fin, 
Stole  sadly  through  the  forest  dell 
Mourning  the  dame  it  loved  so  well. 
From  every  woodland  region  near 
Came  lions,  tigers,  birds,  and  deer, 
And  followed,  each  with  furious  look, 
The  way  her  flying  shadow  took. 
For  Sita's  loss  each  lofty  hill 
Whose  tears  were  waterfall,  and  rill, 
Lifting  on  high  each  arm-like  steep, 
Seemed  in  the  general  woe  to  weep. 
When  the  great  sun,  the  lord  of  day, 
Saw  Kavan  tear  the  dame  away, 
His  glorious  light  began  to  fail 
And  all  his  disk  grew  cold  and  pale. 
4  If  Mayan  from  the  forest  llies 
With  Kama's  Sita  as  his  prize, 
Justice  and  truth  have  vanished  hence, 
Honour  and  right  and  innocence  :  ' 
Thus  rose  the  cry  of  wild  despair 
From  spirits  as  they  gathered  there. 
In  trembling  troops  in  open  lawns 
Wept,  wild  with  woe,  the  startled  fawn?, 
And  a  strange  terror  changed  the  eyes 
They  lifted  to  the  distant  skies. 
On  silvan  Gods  who  love  the  dell 
A  sudden  fear  and  trembling  fell, 
As  in  the  deepest  woe  they  viewed 
The  lady  by  the  fiend  subdued. 
Still  in  loud  shrieks  was  heard  afar 
That  voice  whose  sweetness  naught  could 

mar, 

While  eager  looks  of  fear  and  woe 
She  bent  upon  the  earth  below. 
The  lady  of  each  winning  wile 
With  pearly  teeth  and  lovely  smite, 
Seized  by  the  lord  of  Lanka's  isle, 

Looked  down  for  friends  in  vain. 
She  saw  no  friend  to  aid  her,  none, 
Not  Uama  nor  the  younger  son 
Of  Dasaratha,  and  undone 

She  swooned  with  fear  and  pain. 


CANTO  LIII. 


SFM'S  THREATS. 

Soon  as  the  Maithil  lady  knew 
That  high  through  air  the  giant  flew, 
Distressed  with  grief  and  sore  afraid 
Her  troubled  spirit  sank  dismayed. 
Then,  as  anew  the  waters  welled 
From  those  red  eyes  which  sorrow  swelled, 
Forth  in  keen  words  her  passion  broke, 
And  to  the  fierce-eyed  fiend  she  spoke  : 


*  Canst  thou  attempt  a  deed  so  base, 
Untroubled  by  the  deep  disgrace. — 
To  steal  me  from  my  home  and  fly, 
When  friend  or  guardian  none  wa.n  nigh  } 
Thy  craven  soul  that  longed  to  steal, 
Fearing  the  blows  that  warriors  deal. 
Upon  a  magic  deer  relied 
To  lure  my  husband  from  my  side, 
Friend  of  his  sire,  the  vulture  king 
Lies  low  on  earth  with  mangled  wing1, 
Who  gave  his  aged  life  for  me 
And  died  for  her  he  sought  to  free. 
Ah,  glorious  strength  indeed  is  thine, 
Thou  meanest  of  thy  giant  line, 
Whose  courage  dared  to  tell  thy  name 
And  conquer  in  the  tight  a  dame. 
Does  the  vile  deed  that  thou  hast  done 
Cause  thee  no  shame,  thou  wicked  one— 
A  woman  from  her  home  to  rend 
When  none  was  near  his  aid  to  lend  ] 
Through  all  the  worlds,  O  giant  King, 
The  tidings  of  this  deed  will  ring, 
This  deed  in  law  and  honour's  spite 
By  one  who  claims  a  hero's  might. 
Shame  on  thy  boasted  valour,  shame  ! 
Thy  prowess  is  an  empty  name. 
Shame,  giant,  on  this  cursed  deed 
For  which  thy  race  is  doomed  to  bleed  1 
Thou  fliest  swifter  than  the  gale, 
For  what  can  strength  like  thine  avail  ? 
Stay  for  one  hour,  O  Ravan,  stay  ; 
Thou  shalt  not  flee  with  life  away. 
Soon  as  the  royal  chieftains'  siglit 
Falls  on  the  thief  who  roams  by  night, 
Thou  wilt  not,  tyrant,  live  one  hour 
Though  backed  by  all  thy  legions'  power. 
Ne'er  can  thy  puny  strength  sustain 
The  tempest  of  their  arrowy  rain  : 
Have  e'er  the  trembling  birds  withstood 
The  wild  flames  raging  in  the  wood  * 
Hear  me,  O  Havan,  let  me  go, 
And  save  thy  soul  from  coining  woe. 
Or  if  thou  wilt  not  set  me  free, 
Wroth  for  this  insult  done  to  me. 
With  his  brave  brother's  aid  my  lord 
Against  thy  life  will  raise  his  sword. 
A  guilty  hope  inflames  thy  breast 
His  wife  from  Rama's  home  to  wrest. 
Ah  fool,  the  hope  thou  hast  is  vain  ; 
Thy  dreams  of  bliss  shall  end  in  pain. 
If  torn  from  all  I  love  by  thee 
My  godlike  lord  no  more  I  see, 
Soon  will  I  die  and  end  my  woes, 
Nor  live  the  captive  of  my' foes. 
Ah  fool,  with  blinded  eyes  to  choose 
The  evil  and  the  good  refuse  ! 
So  the  sick  wretch  with  stubl  orn  will 
Turns  fondly  to  the  cates  that  kill, 
And  madly  draws  his  lips  away 
From  medicine  that  would  check  decay, 
About  thy  nejk  securely  wound 


Canto  LIV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AX. 


293 


The  deadly  coil  of  Fate  is  bound, 
And  thou,  O  Ruvnn,  dost  not  fear 
Although  the  hour  of  dt-ath  is  near. 
With  death-doomed  sigl it  thine  e\es behold 
The  gleaming  of  the  trees  of  gold, — 
See  dread  Yaitanmi,  the  flood 
That  rolls  a  stream  of  foamy  blood, — 
See  the  dark  wood  by  all  abhorred — 
Its  every  leaf  a  threatening  sword. 
The  tangled  thickets  thou  shall  tread 
Where  thorns  with  iron  points  are  spread. 
For  never  can  thy  days  be  long, 
Base  plotter  of  this  shame  and  wrong 
To  Rjitna  of  the  lofty  soul: 
He  dies  who  drinks  the  poisoned  bowl. 
The  coils  of  death  around  thee  lie: 
They  hold  thee  and  thou  canst  not  fly. 
All  whither,  tyrant,  wouldst  thou  run 
The  vengeance  of  my  lord  to  shun  ? 
By  his  unaided  arm  alone 
Were  twice  seven  thousand  fiends  o'er- 

thrown  : 

Yes,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye 
He  forced  thy  mightiest  fiends  to  die. 
And  shall  that  lord  of  lion  heart, 
Skilled  in  the  bow  and  spear  and  dart, 
Spare  thee,  O  fiend,  in  battle  strife, 
The  robber  of  his  darling  wife  ? ' 

These  were  her  words,  and  more  beside, 
By  wrath  and  bitter  hate  supplied. 
Then  by  her  woe  and  fear  o'erthrown  „ 
She  wept  again  and  made  her  moan. 
As  long  she  wept  in  grief  and  dread, 
Scarce  conscious  of  the  words  she  said, 
The  wicked  giant  onward  fled 

And  bore  her  through  the  air. 
As  firm  he  held  the  Maithil  dame, 
Still  wildly  struggling,  o'er  her  frame 
With  grief  and  bitter  misery  came 

The  trembling  of  despair. 


CANTO  LIV. 


LANKA'. 

He  bore  her  on  in  rapid  flight, 
And  not  a  friend  appeared  in  sight. 
But  on  a  hill  that  o'er  the  wood 
Raised  its  high  top  five  monkeys  stood. 
From  her  fair  neck  her  scarf  she  drew, 
And  down  the  glittering  vesture  flew. 
With  earring,  necklet,  chain,  and  gem, 
Descending  in  the  midst  of  them: 
4  For  these,'  she  thought,  '  my  path  may 

show, 

And  tell  my  lord  the  way  I  go.' 
Nor  did  the  fiend,  in  wild  alarm, 
Mark  when  she  drew  from  neck  and  arm 
And  fort  the  gems  and  gold,  and  sent 
To  ea'th  e»ch  gleaming  ornament. 


The  monkeys  raised  their  tawny  eyes 
That  closed  not  in  their  first  surprise, 
And  saw  the  dark-eyed  lady,  where 
She  shrieked  above  them  in  the  air. 
High  o'er  their  heads  the  giant  passed 
Holding  the  weeping  lady  fast. 
O'er  Pam  pa's  flashing  flood  he  sped 
And  on  to  Lanka's  city  fled. 
He  bore  away  in  senseless  joy 
The  prize  that  should  his  life  destroy, 
Like  the  rash  fool  who  hugs  beneath 
His  robe  a  snake  with  venomed  teeth, 
Swift  as  an  arrow  from  a  bow, 
Speeding  o'er  lands  that  lay  below, 
Sublime  in  air  his  course  he  took 
O'er  wood  and  rock  and  lake  and  brook. 
He  passed  at  length  the  sounding  sea 
Where  monstrous  creatures  wander  free,— 
Seat  of  Lord  Varun's  ancient  reign, 
Controller  of  the  eternal  main. 
The  angry  waves  were  raised  and  tossed 
As  Ravan  with  the  lady  crossed, 
And  fish  and  snake  in  wild  unrest 
Showed  flashing  fin  and  gleaming  crest. 
Then  from  the  blessed  troops  who  dwell 
In  air  celestial  voices  fell : 
'O  ten-necked  King,'  they  cried,  '  attend: 
This  guilty  deed  will  bring  thine  end.' 

Then  Ravan  speeding  like  the  storm, 
Bering  his  death  in  human  form, 
Ihe  struggling  Sita,  lighted  down 
In  royal  Lanka's  glorious  town  ; 
A  city  bright  and  rich,  that  showed 
Well-ordered  street  and  noble  road  ; 
Arranged  with  just  division,  fair 
With  multitudes  in  court  and  square. 
Thus,  all  his  journey  done,  he  passed 
Within  his  royal  home  at  last. 
There  in  a  queenly  bower  he  placed 
The  black-eyed  dame  with  dainty  waist: 
Thus  in  her  chamber  Maya  laid 
The  lovely  Maya,  demon  maid. 
Then  Kavan  gave  command  to  all 
The  dread  she-fiends  who  filled  the  hall : 
*  This  captive  lady  watch  and  guard 
From  sight  of  man  and  woman  barred. 
But  all  the  fair  one  asks  beside 
Be  with  unsparing  hand  supplied  : 
As  though  'twere  I  that  asked,  withhold 
No  pearls  or  dress  or  gems  or  gold. 
And  she  among  you  that  shall  dare 
Of  purpose  or  through  want  of  care 
One  word  to  vex  her  soul  to  say, 
1  Throws  her  unvalued  life  away.' 

Thus  spake  the  monarch  of  their  race 
To  those  she-fiends  who  thronged  the  place, 
And  pondering  on  the  course  to  take 
Went  from  the  chamber  as  he  spake. 
He  saw  eight  giants,  strong  and  dread, 
On  flesh  of  bleeding  victims  fed, 
Froud  in  the  boon  which  Brahrn&  gave, 


294 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


in 


And  trusting  in  its  power  to  save. 

He  thus  the  mighty  chiefs  addressed 

Of  glorious  power  and  strength  possessed  : 

*  Arm,  warriors,  with  the  spear  and  bow  ; 

With  all  your  speed  from  Lanka  go, 

For  Janasthan,  our  own  no  more, 

Js  now  denied  with  giants'  gore  ; 

The  seat  of  Khara's  royal  state 

Is  left  unto  us  desolate. 

In  your  brave  hearts  and  might  confide. 

And  east  ignoble  fear  aside. 

Go,  in  that  desert  region  dwell 

Where  the  fierce  giants  fought  and  fell. 

A  glorious  host  that  region  held, 

For  power  and  might  unparalleled, 

JBy  Dushan  and  brave  fcLhara  led, — 

All,  slain  by  Bania's  arrows,  bled, 

Hence  boundless  wrath  that  spurns  control 

Reigns  paramount  within  my  soul, 

And  naught  but  Rama's  death  can  sate 

The  fury  of  my  vengeful  hate. 

I  will  not  close  my  slumbering  eyes 

Till  by  this  hand  my  foeman  dies. 

And  when  mine  arm  has  slain  the  foe 

Who  laid  those  giant  princes  low, 

Long  will  I  triumph  in  the  deed, 

Like  one  enriched  in  utmost  need. 

Now  go  ;  that  I  this  end  may  gain, 

In  Janasthan.  O  chiefs,  remain. 

Watch  Rama  there  with  keenest  eye, 

And  all  his  deeds  and  movements  spy. 

Go  forth,  no  helping  art  neglect, 

Be  brave  and  prompt  and  circumspect, 

And  be  your  one  endeavour  still 

To  aid  mine  arm  this  foe  to  kill. 

Oft  have  I  seen  your  warrior  might 

Proved  in  the  forehead  of  the  fight, 

And  sure  of  strength  I  know  so  well 

Send  you  in  Janasthan  to  dwell.' 

The  giants  heard  with  prompt  assent 
The  pleasant  words  he  said, 

And  each  before  his  master  bent 
For  meet  salute,  his  head. 

Then  as  he  bade,  without  delay, 
From  Lanka's  gate  they  passed, 

And  hurried  forward  on  their  way 
Invisible  and  fast. 


CANTO  LV. 


SITA  IN  PRISON, 

Thus  Ravan  his  commandment  gave 
To  those  eight  giants  strong  and  brave, 
So  thinking  in  his  foolish  pride 
Against  all  dangers  to  provide. 
Then  with  his  wounded  heart  aflame 
With  love  he  thought  upon  the  dame, 
And  took  with  hasty  steps  the  way 


To  the  fair  chamber  where  she  lay. 

He  saw  the  gentle  lady  there 

Weighed  down  by  woe  too  great  to  bear, 

Amid  the  throng  of  fiends  who  kept 

Their  watch  around  her  as  she  wept : 

A  pinnace  sinking  neath  the  wave 

When  mighty  winds  around  her  rave  : 

A  lonely  herd-forsaken  deer, 

When  hungry  dogs  are  pressing  near, 

Within  the  bower  the  giant  passed: 

Her  mournful  looks  were  downward  cast 

As  there  she  lay  with  streaming  eyes 

The  giant  bade  the  lady  rise, 

And  to  the  shrinking  captive  showed 

The  glories  of  his  rich  abode, 

Where  thousand  women  spent  their  days 

In  palaces  with  gold  ablaze  ; 

Where  wandered  birds  of  every  sort, 

And  jewels  flashed  in  hall  and  court, 

Where  noble  pillars  charmed  the  sight 

With  diamond  and  lazulite, 

And  others  glorious  to  behold 

With  ivory,  crystal,  silver,  gold. 

There  swelled  on  high  the  tarn  hour's  sound 

And  burnished  ore  was  bright  around. 

He  led  the  mournful  lady  where 

Resplendent  gold  adorned  the  stair, 

And  showed  each  lattice  fair  to  see 

With  silver  work  and  ivory: 

Showed  his  bright  chambers,  line  on  line 

Adorned  with  nets  of  golden  twine. 

Beyond  he  showed  the  Maithil  dame 

His  gardens  bright  as  lightning's  flame, 

And  many  a  pool  and  lake  he  showed 

Where  blooms  of  gayest  colour  glowed. 

Through  all  his  home  from  view  to  view 

The  lady  sunk  in  grief  he  drew. 

Then  trusting  in  her  heart  to  wake 

Desire  of  all  she  saw,  he  spake  : 

'  Three  hundred  million  giants,  all 

Obedient  to  their  master's  call, 

Not  counting  young  and  weak  and  old, 

Serve  me  with  spirits  fierce  and  bold. 

A  thousand  culled  from  all  of  these 

Wait  on  the  lord  they  long  to  please. 

This  glorious  power,  this  pomp  and  swaj 

Dear  lady,  at  thy  feet  I  lay  : 

Yea,  with  my  life  I  give  the  whole, 

0  dearer  than  my  life  and  soul. 

A  thousand  beauties  fill  my  hall : 

Be  thou  my  wife  and  rule  them  all. 

O  hear  my  supplication!  why 

This  reasonable  prayer  deny  ? 

Some  pity  to  thy  suitor  show, 

For  love's  hot  flames  within  me  glow. 

This  isle  a  hundred  leagues  in  length, 

Encompassed  by  the  ocean's  strength, 

Would  all  the  Gods  and  fiends  defy 

Though  led  by  Him  who  rules  the  sky. 

No  God  in  heaven,  no  sau;e  on  earth, 

No  minstrel  of  celestial  birth, 


Vanto  LV1. 


TU.&   MAM  A  I  AM. 


295 


No  spirit  in  the  worlds  I  see 
A  match  in  power  and  might  for  me. 
What  wilt  thou  do  with  Rama,  him 
Whose  days  are  short,  whose  light  is  dim, 
jfixpelled  from  home  and  royal  sway, 
Who  treads  on  foot  his  weary  way  ? 
Leave  the  poor  mortal  to  his  fate, 
And  wed  thee  with  a  worthier  mate. 
My  timid  love,  enjoy  with  me 
The  prime  of  youth  before  it  flee. 
Do  not  one  hour  the  hope  retain 
To  look  on  Kama's  face  again. 
For  whom  would  wildest  thought  beguile 
To  seek  thee  in  the  giants'  isle? 
JSay  who  is  he  has  power  to  bind 
In  toils  of  net  the  rushing  wind. 
Whose  is  the  mighty  hand  will  tame 
And  hold  the  glory  of  the  flame  ? 
In  all  the  worlds  above,  below. 
Not  one,  O  fair  of  form,  I  know 
Who  from  this  isle  in  right  could  rend 
The  lady  whom  these  arms  defend. 
Fair  Queen,  o'er  Lanka's  island  reign, 
Sole  mistress  of  the  wide  domain. 
Gods,  rovers  of  the  night  like  me, 
And  all  the  world  thy  slaves  will  be. 
O'er  thy  fair  brows  and  queenly  head 
Let  consecrating  balm  be  shed, 
And  sorrow  banished  from  thy  breast, 
Enjoy  my  love  and  take  thy  rest. 
Here  never  more  thy  soul  shall  know 
The  memory  of  thy  former  woe, 
And  here  shalt  thou  enjoy  the  meed 
Deserved  by  every  virtuous  deed. 
Here  garlands  glow  of  flowery  twine, 
With  gorgeous  hues  and  scent  divine. 
Take  gold  and  gems  and  rich  attire  : 
Enjoy  with  rne  thy  heart's  desire. 
There  stand,  of  chariots  far  the  best, 
The  car  my  brother  once  possessed. 
Which,  victor  in  the  stricken  field, 
I  forced  the  Lord  of  Gold  to  yield. 
'Tis  wide  and  high  and  nobly  wrought, 
Bright  as  the  sun  and  swift  as  thought. 
Therein;  O  Sita,  shalt  thou  ride 
Delighted  by  thy  lover's  side. 
But  sorrow  mars  with  lingering  trace 
The  splendour  of  thy  lotus  face. 
A  cloud  of  woe  is  o'er  it  spread, 
And  all  the  light  of  joy  is  fled.' 

The  lady,  by  her  woe  distressed, 
One  corner  of  her  raiment  pressed 
To  her  sad  cheek  like  moonlight  clear, 
And  wiped  away  a  falling  tear. 
The  rover  of  the  night  renewed 
His  eager  pleading  as  he  viewed 
The  lady  stand  like  one  distraught, 
Striving  to  rix  her  wandering  thought : 

'  Think  not,  sweet  lady,  of  the  shame 
Of  broken  vows,  nor  fear  the  blame. 
The  saints  approve  with  favouring  eyes 
20 


This  union  knit  with  marriage  ties. 

0  beauty,  at  thy  radiant  feet 

1  lay  my  heads,  and  thus  entreat. 
One  word  of  grace,  one  look  I  crave  : 
Have  pity  on  thy  prostrate  slave. 
These  idle  words  I  speak  are  vain, 
Wrung  forth  by  love's  consuming  pain, 
And  ne'er  of  Ravan  be  it  said 

He  wooed  a  dame  with  prostrate  head.' 
Thus  to  the  Maithil  lady  sued 
The  monarch  of  the  giant  brood, 
And  '  She  is  now  mine  own,'  he  thought, 
lu  Death's  dire  coils  already_caught. 

CANTO  LVI. 


SITE'S  DISDAIN". 

His  words  the  Maithil  lady  heard 
Oppressed  by  woe  but  undeterred. 
Fear  of  the  h'end  she  cast  aside, 
And  thus  in  noble  scorn  replied  : 

*  His  word  of  honour  never  stained 
King  Dasaratha  nobly  reigned, 

The  bridge  of  right,  the  friend  of  truth, 
His  eldest  son,  a  noble  youth, 
Is  Rama,  virtue's  faithful  friend, 
Whose  glories  through  the  worlds  extend. 
Long  arms  and  large  full  eyes  has  he, 
My  husband,  yea  a  God  to  me. 
With  shoulders  like  the  forest  king's, 
From  old  Ikshvaku's  line  he  springs. 
He  with  his  brother  Lakshman's  aid 
Will  smite  thee  with  the  vengeful  blade. 
Hadst  tnou  but  dared  before  his  eyes 
To  lay  thine  hand  upon  the  prize, 
Thou  stretched  before  nis  feet  hadst  lain 
In  Janasthan  like  Khara  slain. 
Thy  boasted  rovers  of  the  night 
With  hideous  shapes  and  giant  might,— 
Like  serpents  when  the  feathered  king 
Swoops  down  with  his  tremendous  wiDg,— 
Will  rind  their  useless  venom  fail 
When  Rama's  mighty  arms  assail. 
The  rapid  arrows  bright  with  gold. 
Shot  from  the  bow  he  loves  to  hold, 
Will  rend  thy  frame  from  flank  to  flank 
As  Ganga's  waves  erode  the  bank. 
Though  neither  God  nor  fiend  have  power 
To  slay  thee  in  the  battle  hour, 
Yet  from  his  hand  shall  come  thy  fate, 

•  Struck  down  before  his  vengeful  hate. 
That  mighty  lord  will  strike  and  end 
The  days  of  life  thou  hast  to  spend. 
Thy  days  are  doomed,  thy  life  is  sped 
Like  victim's  to  the  pillar  led. 

Yea,  if  the  glance  of  Rama  bright 
With  fury  on  thy  form  should  light, 
Thou  scorched  this  day  wculdst  fall  ajid  djfe 


296 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool-  III. 


Like  Kama  slain  by  Budra's  eye.1 

He  who  from  heaven  the  moon  oould  throw, 

Or  bid  its  bright  rays  cease  to  glow, — 

lie  who  could  drain  the  mighty  sea 

Will  set  his  darling  Sita  free 

Fled  is  thy  life,  thy  glory,  fled 

Thy  strength  and  power :  each  sense  is  dead. 

Soon  Lanka  widowed  by  thy  guilt 

Will  see  the  blood  of  giants  spilt. 

This  wicked  deed,  O  cruel  King, 

No  triumph,  no  delight  will  bring. 

Thou  with  outrageous  might  and  scorn 

A  woman  from  her  lord  hast  torn, 

My  glorious  husband  far  away, 

Making  heroic  strength  his  stay, 

Dwells  with  his  brother,  void  of  fear, 

In  Dandak  forest  lone  and  drear. 

No  more  in  force  of  arms  confide  : 

That  haughty  strength,   that   power  and 

pride 

My  hero  with  his  arrowy  rain 
From  all  thy  bleeding  limbs  will  drain. 
When  urged  by  date's  dire  mandate,  nigh 
Comes  the  fixt  hour  for  men  to  die. 
Caught  in  Death's  toils  their  eyes  are  blind, 
.And  folly  takes  each  wandering  mind. 
So  for  the  outrage  thou  hast  done 
The  fate  is  near  thou  canst  not  shun, — 
The  fate  that  on  thyself  and  all 
Thy  giants  and  thy  town  shall  fall. 
I  spurn  thee  :  can  the  altar  dight 
With  vessels  for  the  sacred  rite, 
O'er  which  the  priest  his  prayer  has  said, 
Be  sullied  by  an  outcaste's  tread? 
So  me.  the  consort  dear  and  true 
Of  him  who  clings  to  virtue  too. 
Thy  hated  touch  shall  ne'er  deiile, 
Base  tyrant  lord  of  Lanka's  isle. 
Can  the  white  swan  who  floats  in  pride 
Through  lilies  by  her  consort's  side, 
Look  lor  one  moment,  as  they  pass, 
On  the  poor  diver  in  the  grass/ 
This  senseless  body  waits  thy  will, 
To  torture,  chain,  to  wound  or  kill. 
I  will  not,  King  of  giants,  strive 
To  keep  this  fleeting  soul  alive. 
But  never  shall  they  join  the  name 
Of  Sita  with  reproach  and  shame.' 

Thus  as  her  breast  with  fury  burned 
Her  bitter  speech  the  dame  returned. 
Such  words  of  rage  and  scorn,  the  Jast 
She  uttered,  at  the  fiend  she  cast. 
.Her  taunting  speech  the  giant  heard, 
And  every  hair  with  anger  stirred  ; 
Then  thus  with  fury  in  his  eye 
Be  made  in  threats  his  fierce  reply: 
;  Hear  Maithil  lady,  hear  my  speech  ; 
List  to  my  words  and  ponder  each. 
]f  o'er  thy  head  twelve  months  shall  fly 

c ;t  &e$ Boofc I.  Canto  XXV. 


And  thou  thy  love  wilt  still  deny. 

My  cooks  shall  mince  thy  flesh  with  steel 

And  serve  it  for  my  morning  meal.' 

Thus  with  terrific  threats  to  her 
Spake  Ravan,  cruel  ravener. 
Mad  with  the  rage  her  answer  woke 
He  called  the  fiendish  train  and  spoke  : 
'  Take  her.  ye  Rakshas  dames,  who  fright 
AVith  hideous  form  and  mien  the  sight, 
Who  make  the  flesh  of  men  your  food, — 
And  let  her  pride  be  soon  subdued.1 
He  spoke,  and  at  his  word  the  band 
Of  fiendish  monsters  raised  each  hand 
In  reverence  to  the  giant  king, 
And  pressed  round  Sita,  in  a  ring. 
Ravan  once  more  with  stern  behest 
To  those  she- fiends  his  speech  addressed 
Shaking  the  earth  beneath  his  tread, 
He  stamped  his  furious  foot  and  said  : 
•  To  the  Asoka  garden  bear 
The  dame,  and  guard  her  safely  there 
Until  her  stubborn  pride  be  bent 
By  mingled  threat  and  blandishment. 
See  that  ye  watch  her  well,  and  tame, 
Like  some  she-elephant,  the  dame.' 

They  led  her  to  that  garden  where 
The  sweetest  flowers  perfumed  the  air, 
Where  bright  trees  bore  each  rarest  fruit, 
And  birds,  enamoured,  ne'er  were  mute. 
Bowed  down  with  terror  and  distress, 
Watched  by  each  cruel  giantess, — 
Like  a  poor  solitary  deer 
When  ravening  tigresses  are  near, — 
The  hapless  lady  lay  distraught 
Like  some  wild  thing  but  newly  caught, 
And  found  no  solace,  no  relief 
From  agonizing  fear  and  grief  ; 
Not  for  one  moment  could  forget 
Each  terrifying  word  and  threat, 
Or  the  fierce  eyes  upon  her  set 

By  those  who  watched  around. 
She  thought  of  Rama  far  away,, 
She  mourned  for  Lakshmau  as  she  lay 
In  grief  and  terror  and  dismay 

Half  fainting  on  the  ground. 

CANTO  LVII. 


SITA  COMFORTED. 

Soon  as  the  fiend  had  set  her  down 
Within  his  home  in  Lanka's  town 
Triumph  and  joy  filled  Indra's  breast, 
Whom  thus  the  Eternal  Sire  addressed  : 
'  This  deed  will  free  the  worlds  from  wo 
And  cause  the  giants'  overthrow, 
The  fiend  has  borne  to  Lanka's  isle 
The  lady  of  the  lovely  smile, 
True  consort,  born  to  happy  fate,. 
Well  nurtured,  fair  and  delicate,. 


She  looks  and  longs  for  Rama's  face, 
But  sees  a  crowd  of  demon  race, 
And  guarded  by  the  giant's  train 
Pines  for  her  lord  and  weeps  in  vain. 
But  Lanka  founded  on  a  steep 
Is  girdled  by  the  mighty  deep, 
And  how  will  Kama  know  his  fair 
And  blameless  wife  is  prisoned  there  ? 
She  on  her  woe  will  sadly  brood 
And  pine  away  in  solitude, 
And  heedless  of  herself  .will  cease 
To  live,  despairing  of  release. 
Yes,  pondering  on  her  fate,  I  see 
Her  gentle  life  in  jeopardy. 
Go,  ludra,  swiftly  seek  the  place, 
And  look  upon  her  lovely  face. 
Within  the  city  make  thy  way  : 
Let  heavenly  food  her  spirit  stay.' 

Thus  Brahma  spake  :  and  He  who  slew 
The  cruel  demon  Paka,  flew 
Where  Lanka's  royal  city  lay, 
And  Sleep  went  with  him  on  his  way. 
4  Sleep,1  cried  the  heavenly  Monarch,  'close 
Each  giant's  eye  in  deep  repose.' 

Thus  Indra  spoke,  and  Sleep  fulfilled 
With  joy  his  mandate,  as  he  willed, 
To  aid  the  plan  the  Gods  proposed, 
The  demons'  eyes  in  sleep  she  closed. 
Then  Saohi's  lord,  the  Thousand-eyed, 
To  the  Asoka  garden  hied. 
He  came  and  stood  where  Sita  lay, 
And  gently  thus  began  to  say  : 
4  Lord  of  the  Gods  who  hold  the  sky, 
Dame  of  the  lovely  smile,  am  I. 
Weep  no  more,  lady,  weep  no  more; 
lhy  days  of  woe  will  soon  be  o'er. 
1  come,  O  Janak's  child,  to  be 
Tne  helper  of  thy  lord  and  thee. 
He  through  my  grace,  with  hosts  to  aid, 
This  sea-girt  land  will  soon  invade. 
'Tis  by  my  art  that  slumbers  close 
The  eyelids  of  thy  giant  foes. 
Now  1,  with  Sleep,  this  place  have  sought, 
Videhan  lady,  and  have  brought 
A  gift  of  heaven's  ambrosial  food 
To  stay  thee  in  thy  solitude. 
Receive  it  from  my  hand,  and  taste, 
O  lady  of  the  dainty  waist : 
For  countless  ages  thou  shalt  be 
From  pangs  of  thirst  and  hunger  free.' 

But  doubt  within  her  bosom  woke 
As  to  the  Lord  of  Gods  she  spoke  : 
'  How  may  I  know  for  truth  that  thou 
Whose  form  I  see  before  me  now 
Art  verily  the  King  adored 
By  heavenly  Gods,  and  Yacht's  lord  ? 
With  Raghu's  sons  I  learnt  to  know 
The  certain  signs  which  Godhead  show. 
These  marks  before  mine  eyes  display 
If  o'er  the  Gods  thou  bear  the  sway.' 

The  heavenly  lord  of  Sachi  heard, 


297 

And  did  according  to  her  word. 
Above  the  ground  his  feet  were  raised  ; 
With  eyelids  motionless  he  gazed. 
No  dust  upon  his  raiment  lay, 
And  his  bright  wreath  was  fresh  and  gay. 
Nor  was  the  lady's  glad  heart  slow 
The  Monarch  of  the  Gods  to  know, 
And  while  the  tears  unceasing  ran 
From  her  sweet  eyes  she  thus  began  : 
'  My  lord  has  gained  a  friend  in  thee, 
And  I  this  day  thy  presence  see 
Shown  clearly  to  mine  eyes,  as  when 
Rama  and  Lakshman,  lords  of  men, 
Beheld  it,  and  their  sire  the  king, 
And  Janak  too  from  whom  I  spring. 
Now  I,  O  Monarch  of  the  Blest, 
Will  eat  this  food  at  thy  behest, 
Which  thou  hast  brought  nje,  of  thy  grace, 
To  aid  and  strengthen  Raghu's  race.' 

She  spoke,  and  by  his  words  relieved, 
The  food  from  Indra's  hand  received. 
Yet  ere  she  ate  the  balm  he  brought, 
On  Lakshman  and  her  lord  she  thought. 
'  If  my  brave  lord  be  still  alive, 
If  valiant  Lakshman  yet  survive, 
May  this  my  taste  of  heavenly  food 
Bring  health  to  them,  and  bliss  renewed  !' 

She  ate,  and  that  celestial  food 
Stayed  hunger,  thirst,  and  lassitude, 

And  all  her  strength  restored. 
Great  joy  her  hopeful  spirit  stirred 
At  the  glad  tidings  newly  heard 

Of  Lakshman  and  her  lord. 
And  Indra's  heart  was  joyful  too: 
He  bade  the  Maithil  dame  adieu, 

His  saving  errand  done. 
With  Sleep  beside  him  parting  thence 
He  sought  his  heavenly  residence 
To  prosper  Raghu's  son. 

CANTO  LVIII. 


THE  BROTHERS'  MEETING. 

When  Rama's  deadly  shaft  had  struck 
The  giant  in  the  seeming  buck. 
The  chief  tain  turned  him  from  the  place 
His  homeward  way  again  to  trace. 
Then  as  he  hastened  onward,  fain 
To  look  upon  his  spouse  again, 
Behind  him  from  a  thicket  nigh 
Rang  out  a  jackal's  piercing  cry. 
Alarmed  he  heard  the  startling  shriek 
That  raised  his  hair  and  dimmed  his  cheek, 
And  all  his  heart  was  filled  with  doubt 
As  the  shrill  jackal's  cry  rang  out : 
'  Alas,  some  dire  disaster  seems 
Portended  by  the  jackal's  screams. 
O  may  the  Maithil  dame  be  screened 
From  outrage  of  each  hungry  tiend  ! 


298 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  III. 


Alas,  if  Laksbman  chanced  to  hear 

That  bitter  017  of  woe  and  fear 

What  time  Marie  ha,  as  he  died, 

With  voice  that  mocked  ray  accents  cried, 

Swift  to  my  side  the  prince  would  flee 

And  quit  the  dame  to  succour  me. 

Too  well  I  see  the  demon  hand 

The  slaughter  of  my  love  have  planned. 

Me  far  from  home  and  Sita's  view 

The  seeming  deer  Maricha  drew. 

He  led  me  far  through  brake  and  dell 

Till  wounded  by  my  shaft  he  fell, 

And  as  he  sank  rang  out  his  cry, 

*  O  save  me,  Lakshman,  or  I  die.' 

May  it  be  well  with  both  who  stayed 

In  the  great  wood  with  none  to  aid, 

For  every  fiend  is  now  my  foe 

For  Janasthan's  great  overthrow, 

And  many  an  omen  seen  to-day 

Has  filled  my  heart  with  sore  dismay.' 

Such  were  the  thoughts  and  sad  surmise 
Of  Rama  at  the  jackal's  cries, 
And  all  his  heart  within  him  burned 
As  to  his  cot  his  steps  he  turned. 
He  pondered  on  the  deer  that  led 
His  feet  to  follow  where  it  fled, 
And  sad  with  many  a  bitter  thought 
His  home  in  Janasthan  he  sought. 
His  soul  was  dark  with  woe  and  fear 
When  flocks  of  birds  and  troops  of  deer 
Move  round  him  from  the  left,  and  raised 
Discordant  voices  as  they  gazed. 
The  omens  which  the  chieftain  viewed 
The  terror  of  his  soul  renewed, 
When  lo,  to  meet  him  Lakshman  sped 
With  brows  whence  all  the  light  had  fled. 
Near  and  more  near  the  princes  came, 
Each  brother's  heart  and  look  the  same  ; 
Alike  on  each  sad  visage  lay 
The  signs  of  misery  and  dismay, 
Then  Rama  by  his  terror  moved 
His  brother  for  his  fault  reproved 
In  leaving  Sita  far  from  aici 
In  the  wild  wood  where  giants  strayed. 
Lakshman's  left  hand  he  took,  and  then 
In  gentle  tones  the  nrinoe  of  men, 
Though  sharp  and  nerce  their  tenour  ran, 

Thus  to  his  brother  chief  began  : 
*  0  Lakshman,  thou  art  much  to  blame 

Leaving  alone  the  Maithil  dame, 

And  flying  hither  to  my  side  : 

O,  may  no  ill  my  spouse  betide  ! 

But  ah,  I  know  my  wife  is  dead, 

And  giants  on  her  limbs  have  fed, 

So  strange,  so  terrible  are  all 

The  omens  which  my  heart  appal. 

O  Lakshman.  may  we  yet  return 

The  safety  of  my  love  to  learn. 

To  find  the  child  of  Janak  still 

Alive  and  free  from  scathe  and  ill  ! 

Each  bird?  with  notes  of  warning  screams, 


Though  the  hot  sun  still  darts  his  beams, 
The  moan  of  deer,  the  jackal's  yell 
Of  some  o'er  whelming  misery  tell. 
O  mighty  brother,  still  may  she, 
My  princess,  live  from  danger  free  ! 
That  semblance  of  a  golden  deer 

Allured  me  far  away, 
I  followed  nearer  and  more  near, 

And  longed  to  take  the  prey. 
I  followed  where  the  quarry  fled  : 

My  deadly  arrow  flew, 
And  as  the  dying  creature  bled, 

The  giant  met  my  view. 
Great  rear  and  pain  oppress  my  heart 

That  dreads  the  coming  blow, 
And  through  my  left  eye  keenly  dart 

The  throbs  that  herald  woe. 
Ah  Lakshman,  all  these  signs  dismay. 

My  soul  that  sinks  with  dread, 
I  know  my  love  is  torn  away, 
Or,  haply,  she  is  dead/ 

CANTO  LIX. 


RAMA'S  BBTUKN. 

When  Rama  saw  his  brother  stand 
With  none  beside  him,  all  unmanned, 
Eager  he  questioned  why  he  came 
So  far  without  the  Maithil  dame: 
•  Where  is  my  wife,  my  darling,  she 
Who  to  the  wild  wood  followed  me  ? 
Where  hast  thou  left  my  lady,  where 
The  dame  who  chose  my  lot  to  share? 
Where  is  my  love  who  balms  my  woe 
As  through  the  forest  wilds  I  go, 
Unkinged  and  banished  and  disgraced,— 
My  darling  of  the  dainty  waist? 
She  nerves  my  spirit  for  the  strife, 
She,  only  she  gives  zest  to  life, 
Dear  as  my  breath  is  she  who  vies 
In  charms  with  daughters  of  the  skies. 
If  Janak's  child  be  mine  no  more, 
In  splendour  fair  as  virgin  ore, 
The  lordship  of  the  skies  and  earth 
To  me  were  prize  of  little  worth. 
Ah,  lives  she  yet,  the  Maithil  dame, 
Dear  as  the  soul  within  this  frame  ? 
O,  let  not  all  my  toil  be  vain, 
The  banishment,  the  woe  and  pain ! 
0.  let  not  dark  Kaikeyi  win 
The  guerdon  of  her  tejacherous  sin, 
If,  Sita  lost,  my  days  I  end, 
And  thou  without  me  homeward  wend  1 
(3,  let  not  good  Kausalya  shed  N 

Her  bitter  tears  to  mourn  me  dead, 
Nor  her  proud  rival's  best  obey, 
Strong  in  her  son  and  queenly  sway! 
Back  to  my  cot  will  I  repair 
If  Sita  live  to  greet  me  there, 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


290 


But  if  my  wife  have  perished*  I 
Kef  t  of  my  love  will  surely  die, 

0  Lakshman.  if  I  seek  my  eot, 
Look  tor  my  love  and  liud  her  not 
Sweet  welcome  with  her  smile  to  give? 

1  tell  thee,  I  will  cease  to  live. 

0  answer, — let  thy  words  be  plain, — 
Lives  Sita  yet,  or  is  she  slain  ? 
Didst  thou  thy  sacred  trust  betray 
Till  ravening  giants  seized  the  prey  ? 
Ah  me,  so  young,  so  soft  and  fair, 
Lapped  in  all  bliss,  untried  by  care, 
Kent  from  her  own  dear  husband,  how 
Will  she  support  her  misery  now  ? 

That  voice,  O  Lakshman  smote  thine  ear, 
And  filled,  I  ween,  thy  heart  with  fear, 
When  on  thy  name  for  succour  cried 
The  treacherous  giant  ere  he  died. 
That  voice  too  like  mine  own,  I  ween, 
Was  heard  by  the  Videhan  queen. 
She  bade  thee  seek  my  side  to  aid, 
And  quickly  was  the  hest  obeyed, 
But  ah,  thy  fault  I  needs  must  blame, 
To  leave  alone  the  helpless  dame, 
And  let  the  cruel  giants  sate 
The  fury  of  their  murderous  hate. 
Those  blood-devouring  demons  all 
Grieve  in  their  souls  for  Khara's  fall, 
And  Sita,  none  to  guard  her  side, 
Torn  by  their  cruel  hands  has  died. 

1  sink,  O  tamer  of  thy  foes, 
Deep  in  the  sea  of  whelming  woes. 
What  can  I  now  ?     I  must  endure 
The  mighty  grief  that  mocks  at  cure.1 

Thus,  all  his  thoughts  on  Sita  bent, 
To  Janasthan  the  chieftain  went, 
Hastening  on  with  eager  stride, 
And  Lakshman  hurried  by  his  side. 
With  toil  and  thirst  and  hunger  worn, 
His  breast  with  doubt  and  anguish  torn, 

He  sought  the  well-known  spot. 
Again,  again  he  turned  to  chide 
With  quivering  lips  which  terror  dried  : 

He  looked,  and  found  her  not. 
Within  his  leafy  home  he  sped, 
Each  pleasant  spot  he  visited 

Where  oft  his  darling  strayed. 
'Tis  as  1  feared',  he  cried,  and  there, 
Yielding  to  pangs  too  great  to  bear, 

He  sank  by  grief  dismayed. 


CANTO  LX. 


LAKSHMAN  REPROVED, 

But  Rama  ceased  not  to  upbraid 

His  brother  for  untimely  aid, 

And  thus,  while  anguish  wrung  his  breast, 

The  chief  with  eager  question  pressed  : 


4  Why,  Lakshman,  didst  thou  hurry  hence 
And  leave  my  wife  without  defence  ? 
I  left  her  in  the  wood  with  thee, 
And  deemed  her  safe  from  jeopardy. 
When  first  thy  form  appeared  in  view, 
I  marked  that  Sita  come  not  too. 
With  woe  my  troubled  soul  was  rent, 
Prophetic  of  the  dire  event. 
Thy  coming  steps  afar  I  spied, 
I  saw  no  Sita  by  thy  side. 
And  felt  a  sudden  throbbing  dart 
Through  my  left  eye,  and  arm,  and  heart.' 
Lakshman,  with  Fortune's  marks  im- 
pressed," 
His  brother  mournfully  addressed  : 

*  Not  by  my  heart's  free  impulse  led, 
Leaving  thy  wife  to  thee  I  sped  ; 
But  by  her  keen  reproaches  sent, 

0  Kama,  to  thine  aid  I  went. 
She  heard  afar  a  mournful  cry, 

1  O  save  me.  Lakshman,  or  I  die.' 
The  voice  that  spoke  in  moving  tone 
Smote  on  her  ear  and  seemed  thine  own. 
Soon  as  those  accents  reached  her  ear 
She  yielded  to  her  woe  ami  fear, 

She  wept  o'ercome  by  grief,  and  cried, 

*  Fly.  Lakshman,  fly  to  R&ma's  side.' 
Though  many  a*  time  she  bade  me  speed, 
Her  urgent  prayer  I  would  not  heed. 

I  bade  her  in  thy  strength  confide, 

And  thus  with  tender  words  replied  ; 

'  No  giant  roams  the  forest  shade 

From  whom  thy  lord  need  shrink  dismayed. 

No  human  voice,  believe  me,  spoke 

Those  words  thy  causeless  fear  that  woke. 

Can  he  whose  might  can  save  in  woe 

The  heavenly  Gods  e'er  stoop  so  low, 

And  with  those  piteous  accents  call 

For  succour  like  a  caitiff  thrall  ? 

And  why  should  wandering  giants  choose 

The  accents  of  thy  lord  to  use, 

In  alien  tones  my  help  to  crave, 

And  cry  aloud.  O  Lakshman,  save  ? 

Now  let  my  words  thy  spirit  cheer, 

Compose  thy  thoughts  and  banish  fear. 

In  hell,  in  earth,  or  in  the  skies 

There  is  not,  and  there  cannot  rise 

A  champion  whose  strong  arm  can  slay 

Thy  Rama  in  the  battle  fray. 

To  heavenly  hosts  he  ne'er  would  yield 

Though  Indra  led  them  to  the  field.' 

To  soothe  her  thus  I  vainly  sought : 

Her  heart  with  woe  was  still  distraught. 

While  from  her  eyes  the  waters  ran 

Her  bitter  speech  she  thus  began  : 

*  Too  well  I  see  thy  dark  intent ; 

Thy  lawless  thoughts  on  me  are  bent. 

Thou  hopest,  but  thy  hope  is  vain, 

To  win  my  love,  thy  brother  slain. 

Not  love,  but  Bharat's  dark  decree 

To  share  his  exile  counselled  thee, 


300 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  III. 


Or  hearing  now  his  bitter  cry 
Thou  surely  to  his  aid  wouldst  fly. 
For  love  of  me,  a  stealthy  foe 
Thou  choosest  by  his  side  to  go, 
And  now  thou  longest  that  my  lord 
Should  die.  and  wilt  no  help  afford.' 

Such  were  the  words  the  lady  said  : 
With  angry  tire  my  eyes  were  red. 
With  pale  lips  quivering  in  my  rage 
I  hastened  from  the  hermitage.' 
He  ceased  ;  and  frenzied  by  his  pain 
The  son  of  llaghu  spoke  again  : 
*  O  brother,  for  thy  fault  I  grieve, 
The  Maithil  dame  alone  to  leave. 
Thou  knowest  that  my  arm  is  strong 
To  save  me  from  the  giant  throng, 
And  yet  couldst  leave  the  cottage,  spurred 
To  folly  by  her  angry  word. 
For  this  thy  deed  I  praise  thee  not,— 
To  leave  her  helpless  in  the  cot, 
And  thus  thy  sacred  charge  forsake 
For  the  wild  words  a  woman  spake. 
Yea  thou  art  all  to  blame  herein, 
And  very  grievous  is  thy  sin. 
That  anger  swayed  thy 'faithless  breast 
And  made  thee  false  to  my  behest. 
An  arrow  speeding  from  my  bow 
Has  laid  the  treacherous  giant  low, 
Who  lured  me  eager  for  the  chase 
Far  from  my  hermit  dwelling-place. 
The  string  with  easy  hand  I  drew, 
The  arrow  as  in  pastime  iiew, 

The  wounded  quarry  bled. 
The  borrowed  form  was  cast  away, 
Before,  mine  eyes  a  giant  lay 

With  bright  gold  braceleted. 
My  arrow  smote  him  in  the  chest : 
The  giant  by  the  pain  distressed 

liaised  his  loud  voice  on  high. 
Far  rang  the  mournful  sound  ;  mine  own, 
It  seemed,  were  accent,  voice,  and  tone, 
They  made  thee  leave  my  spouse  alone 

And  to  my  rescue  fly.' 


CANTO  LXI. 


KAMA'S  LAMENT. 

As  Rama  sought  his  leafy  cot 
Through  his  left  eye  keen  th robbings  shot, 
His  wonted  strength  his  frame  forsook, 
And  all  his  body  reeled  and  shook. 
Still  on  those  dreadful  signs  he  thought,— 
Sad  omens  with  disaster  fraught, 
And  from  his  troubled  heart  he  cried, 
4  O,  may  no  ill  my  spouse  betide  ! ' 
Longing  to  gaze  on  Sita's  face 
He  hastened  to  his  dwelling-place, 
Then  sinking  neath  his  misery's  weight, 

TT^  l^l.-o/l  on/l   fMiinri   if.  rlp«nln.t.R 


Tossing  his  mighty  arms  on  high 

He  sought  her  with  an  eager  cry. 

From  spot  to  spot  he  wildly  ran 

Each  corner  of  his  home  to  scan. 

He  looked,  but  Ska  was  not  there  ; 

His  cot  was  disolate  and  bare, 

Like  streamlet  in  the  winter  frost, 

The  glory  of  her  lilies  lost. 

With  leafy  tears  the  sad  trees  «vept 

As  a  wild  wind  their  branches  swept. 

Mourned  bird  and  deer,  and  every  flower 

Drooped  fainting  round  the  lonely  bower. 

The  silvan  deities  had  fled 

The  spot  where  all  the  light  was  dead, 

Where  hermit  coats  of  skin  displayed, 

And  piles  of  sacred  grass  were  laid, 

He  saw,  and  maddened  by  his  pain 

Cried  in  lament  again,  again  : 

'  Where  is  she,  dead  or  torn  away, 

Lost,  or  some  hungry  giant's  prey  ? 

Or  did  my  darling  chance  to  rove 

For  fruit  and  blossoms  though  the  grove  ? 

Or  has  she  sought  the  pool  or  rill, 

Her  pitcher  from  the  wave  to  fill  ?' 

His  eager  eyes  on  fire  with  pain 

He  roamed  about  with  maddened  brain. 

Each  grove  and  glade  he  searched' with  care, 

He  sought,  but  fouiid  no  Sita  there. 

He  wildly  rushed  from  hill  to  hill  ; 

From  tree  to  tree,  from  rill  to  rill. 

As  bitter  woe  his  bosom  rent 

Still  Rama  roamed  with  fond  lament: 

'  (.)  sweet  Kadamba.  say  has  she 

Who  loved  thy  bloom  been  seeu  by  thee? 

If  thou  have  seen  her  f t\ce  most  fair, 

Say,  gentle  tree,  1  pray  thee,  where. 

O  Bel  tree  with  thy  golden  fruit 

Hound  as  her  breast,  no  more  be  mute. 

Where  is  my  radiant  darling,  gay 

In  silk  that  mocks  thy  glossy  spray  ? 

O  Arjun,  say,  where  is  she  now 

Who  loved  to  touch  thy  scented  bough  ? 

Do  not  thy  graceful  friend  forget, 

But  tell  me,  is  she  living  yet? 

Speak,  Basil,  thou  must  surely  know, 

For  like  her  limbs  thy  branches  show,— 

Most  lovely  in  thy  fair  array 

Of  twining  plant  and  tender  spray. 

Sweet  Tila,  fairest  of  the  trees, 

Melodious  with  the  hum  of  bees, 

Where  is  my  darling  Sita,  tell,— 

The  dame  who  loved  thy  flowers  so  well  ? 

Asoka,  act  thy  gentle  part,— 

Named  Heartsease,1  give  me  what  thou  art, 

To  these  sad  eyes  my  darling  show 

And  free  me  from  this  load  of  woe. 

O  Palm,  in  rich  ripe  fruitage  dressed 

Hound  as  the  beauties  of  her  breast. 

1  Asoka  is  compounded  of   a  not  and 

&nlt.n,  trrief. 


Canto  LX1L 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


301 


If  thou  have  heart  to  know  and  feel, 
My  peerless  consort's  fate  reveal. 
Hast  thou,  Rose-apple,  chanced  to  view 
My  darling  bright  with  golden  hue  ? 
If^  thou  have  seen  her  quickly  speak, 
Where  is  the  dame  I  wildly  seek  1 
O  glorious  Cassia,,  thou  art  gay 
With  all  thy  loveliest  bloom  to-day, 
Where  is  my  dear  who  loved  to  hold 
In  her,f ull  lap  thy  flowery  gold  ? ' 
To  many  a  tree  and  plant  beside, 
To  Jasmin,  Mango,  Sal,  he  cried. 
'  Say,  iiast  thou  seen,  O  gentle  deer, 
The  fawn-eyed  Sita  wandering  here  ? 
It  may  be  that  my  love  has  strayed 
To  sport  with  fawns  beneath  the  shade, 
If  thou,  great  elephant,  have  seen 
My  darling  of  the  lovely  mien, 
Whose  rounded  limbs  are  soft  and  fine 
Aa  is  that  lissome  trunk  <  f  thine, 
O  noblest  of  wild  creatures,  show 
Where  is  the  dame  thou  needs  must  know. 

0  tiger,  hast  thou  chanced  to  see 
My  darling  I  very  fair  is  she. 
Cast  all  thy  fear  away,  declare, 

Where  is  my  moon- faced  darling,  where? 
There,  darling  of  the  lotus  eye, 

1  see  thee,  and  'tis  vain  to  fly. 

Wilt  thou  not  speak,  dear  love  ?    I  see 

Thy  form  half  hidden  by  the  tree. 

Stay  if  thou  love  me,  Sita,  stay 

]n  pity  cease  thy  heartless  play, 

Why  inock  me  now  .'    thy  gentle  breast 

Was  never  prone  to  cruel  jtst. 

'Tis  vain  behind  yon  bush  to  steal ; 

Thy  shimmering  silks  thy  path  reveal. 

Fly  not.  mine  eyes  pursue  thy  way  ; 

For  pity's  sake,  dear  Sitji,  stay. 

Ah  me,  ah  me,  my  words  are  vain  ; 

My  gentle  love  is  lost  or  slain. 

How  could  her  tender  bosom  spurn 

Her  husband  on  his  home -return  ? 

Ah  no,  my  love  is  surely  dead, 

P'ierce  giants  on  her  flesh  have  fed, 

Rending  the  soft  limbs  of  their  prey 

When  I  ht-r  lord  was  far  away. 

That  moon-bright  face,  that  polished  brow, 

Bed  lips,bright  teeth— what  are  they  now? 

Alas,  my  darling's  shapely  neck 

She  loved  with  chains  of  gold  to  deck, — 

That  neck  that  mocked  the  sandal  scent, 

The  ruthless  fiends  have  grasped  and  rent 

Alas,  'twas  vain  those  arms  to  raise 

Soft  as  the  young  tree's  tender  sprays 

Ah.  dainty  meal  for  giants'  lips 

Were  arms  and  quivering  finger  tips. 

A h»  she  who  counted  many  a  friend 

Was  left  for  fiends  to  seize  and  rend, 

Was  1  f •.  by  me  without  defence 

From  ravening  giants'  violence. 

O  Lakshnian.  of  the  arm  of  might, 


Say.  is  my  darling  love  in  sight? 

0  dearest  Sita.  where  art  thou  2 
Where  is  my  darling  consort  now?  * 

Thus  as  he  cried  in  wild  lament 
From  grove  to  grove  the  mourner  went. 
Here  for  a  moment  sank  to  rest. 
Then  started  up  and  onward  pressed. 
Thus  roaming  on  like  one  distraught 
Still  for  his  vanished  love  he  sought. 
He  searched  in  wood  and  hill  and  glade, 
By  rock  and  brook  and  wild  cascade. 
Through  groves  with  restless  step  he  sped 
And  left  no  spot  an  visited. 
Through  lawns  and  woods  of  vast  extent 
Still  searching  for  his  love  he  went 

With  eager  steps  and  fast. 
For  many  a  weary  hour  he  toiled, 
Still  in  his  fond  endeavour  f  jiled, 

Yet  hoping  to  the  last. 

CANTO  LXII. 
RAMA'S  LAMENT. 

When  all  the  toil  and  search  was  vain 
He  sought  his  leafy  home  again. 
'Tvvas  empty  still  :  all  scattered  lay 
The  seats  of  grass  in  disarray. 
He  raised  his  shapely  arms  on  high 
Arid  spoke  aloud  with  hitter  cry  : 
'  Where  is  the  Maithil  dame  ? '  lie  said, 
'O,  whither  has  :ny  darling  fled? 
Who  can  have  borne  away  my  dame, 
Or  feasted  on  her  tender  frame? 
If,  Sitd.  hidden  by  some  tree, 
Thou  joyest  still  to  mock  at  me, 
Cease,  cease  thy  cruel  sport,  and  take 
Compassion,  or  my  heart  will  break. 
Bethink  thee.  love,  the  gentle  fawns 
With  whom  thou  playest  on  the  lawns, 
Impatient  for  thy  coming  wait 
With  streaming  eyes  disconsolate. 
Reft  of  my  love,  I  needs  must  go 
Hence  to  t^e  shades  weighed  down  by  woe. 
The  king  our  sire  will  see  me  there, 
And  cry,  '  <  >  perjured  Rama,  where, 
Where  is  thy  faith,  that  thou  canst  speed 
From  exile  ere  the  time  decreed  ? 
Ah  Sita,  whither  hast  thou  fled 
And  left  me  here  disquieted, 
A  hapless  mourner,  reft  of  hope, 
Too  feeble  with  my  woe  to  cope  ? 
E'en  thus  indignant  Glory  flies 
The  wretch  who  stains  his  soul  with  lies, 
If  thou,  my  love,  art  lost  to  view, 

1  in  my  woe  must  perish  too.' 

Thus  Rama  by  his  grief  distraught 
Wept  for  the  wife  he  vainly  sought. 
And  Lakshman  wKose  fraternal  breast 
Longed  for  his'weal,  the  chief  addressed, 


302 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  TIL 


Whoae  soul  gave  way  beneath  the  pain 
When  all  his  eager  search  was  vain. 
Like  some  great  elephant  who  stands 
Sinking  upon  the  treacherous  sands  : 
'Not  yet,  O  wisest  chief,  despair  ; 
Renew  thy  toil  with  utmost  care. 
This  noble  hill  where  trees  are  green 
Has  many  a  cave  and  dark  ravine. 
The  Maithil  lady  day  by  day 
Delighted  in  the  woods  to  stray. 
Deep  in  the  grove  she  wranders  still, 
Or  walks  by  blossom-covered  rill, 
Or  fish-loved  river  stealing  through 
Tall  clusters  of  the  dark  bamboo. 
Or  else  the  dame  with  arch  design 
To  prove  thy  mood,  O  Prince,  and  mine, 
Far  in  some  sheltering  thicket  lies 
To  frighten  ere  she  meet  our  eyes, 
Then  come,  renew  thy  labour,  trace 
The  lady  to  her  lurking-place, 
And  search  the  wood  from  side  to  side 
To  know  where  Sita  loves  to  hide. 
Collect  thy  thoughts,  O  royal  chief, 
Nor  yield  to  unavailing  grief.' 

Thus  Lakshman,  by  affection  stirred, 
To  fresh  attempts' his  brother  spurred, 
And  Rama,  as  he  ceased,  began 
With  Lakshman's  aid  each  spot  to  scan, 
In  eager  search  their  way  they  took 
Through  wood,  o'er  hill,  by  pool  and  brook. 
They  roamed  each  mount,  nor  spared  to 

seek 

On  ridge  and  crag  and  towering  peak. 
They  sought  the  dame  in  every  spot ; 
But' all  in  vain  ;  they  found  her  not. 
Above,  below,  on  every  side 
They  ranged  the  hill,  and  Rama  cried, 

*  O  Lakshman,  O  my  brother  still 
No  trace  of  sita  on  the  hill ! ' 

Then  Lakshman  as  he  roamed  the  wood 
Beside  his  glorious  brother  stood, 
And  while  tierce  grief  his  bosom  burned 
This  answer  to  the  chief  returned  : 

*  Thou,  Ham  a,  after  toil  and  pain 
Wilt  meet  the  Maithil  dame  again, 
As  Vishnu,  Hnli's  might  subdued, 
His  empire  of  the  earth  renewed.'1 

Then  Rama  cried  in  mournful  tone, 
His  spirit  by  his  woe  o'erthrown  ; 
'  The  wood  is  searched  from  side  to  side, 
No  distant  spot  remains  untried, 
No  lilied  pool,  no  streamlet  where 
The  lotus  buds  are  fresh  and  fair. 
Our  eyes  have  searched  the  hill  with  all 
His  caves  and  e\ery  waterfall, — 
But  ah,  not  yet  I  find  my  wife, 
More  precious  than  the  breath  of  life.' 

As  thus  he  mourned  his  vanished  dame 
A  mighty  trembling  sejzed  his  frame, 

1  See  Book  I.  Canto  XXXI. 


And  by  o'erpowering  grief  assailed, 
His  troubled  senses  reeled  and  failed. 
Too  great  to  bear  his  misery  grew, 
And  many  a  long  hot  sigh  he  drew. 
Then  as  he  wept  and  sobbed  and  sighed, 
'  O  Sita,  O  my  love  ! '  he  cried. 
Then  Lakshman,  joining  palm  to  palm, 
Tried  every  art  his  woe  to  cairn. 
But  Rama  in  his  anguish  heard 
Or  heeded  not  one  soothing  word, 
Still  for  his  spouse  he  mourned,  and  shrill 
Kang  out  his  lamentation  still. 

CANTO  LXIII. 


RAMA'S  LAMENT. 

Thus  for  his  wife  in  vain  he  sought : 
Then,  his  sad  soul  with  pain  distraught, 
The  hero  of  the  lotus  eyes 
Filled  all  the  air  with  frantic  cries. 
O'erpowered  by  love's  strong  influence,  he 
His  absent  wife  still  seemed  to  see, 
And  thus  with  accents  weak  and  faint 
Renewed  with  tears  his  wild  complaint : 

;  Thou,  fairer  than  their  bloom,  my  spouse, 
Art  hidden  by  Asoka  boughs. 
Those  blooms  have  power  to  banish  care, 
But  now  they  drive  me  to  despair. 
Thine  arms  are  like  the  plantain's  stem  : 
Why  let  the  plantain  cover  them? 
Thou  art  not  hidden,  love  ;  thy  feet 
Betray  thee  in  thy  dark  retreat. 
Thou  runuest  in  thy  girlish  sport 
To  flowery  trees,  thy  dear  resort. 
But  cease,  O  cease,  my  love,  I  pray, 
To  vex  me  with  thy  cruel  play. 
Such  mockery  in  a  holy  spot 
Where  hermits  dwell  beseems  thee  not. 
Ah,  now  J  see  thy  fickle  mind 
To  scornful  mood  too  much  inclined. 
Come,  large-eyed  beauty.  I  implore  ; 
Lone  is  the  cot  so  dear  before. 

No,  she  is  slain  by  giants  ;  they 
Have  stolen  or  devoured  their  prey, 
Or  surely  at  my  mournful  cry 
My  darling  to  her  lord  would  fly. 
O  Lakshman.  see  those  troops  of  deer  : 
In  each  sad  eye  there  gleams  a  tear. 
Those  looks  of  woe  too  clearly  say 
My  consort  is  the  giants'  prey. 
O  noblest,  fairest  of  the  fair, 
Where  art  thou.  best  of  women,  where? 
This  day  will  dark  Kaikeyi  find 
Fresh  triumph  for  her  evil  mind, 
When  I  who  with  my  Sita  came 
Return  alone,  without  rny  daine. 
But  ne'er  can  I  return  to  see 
Those  chambers  where  my  queen  should  be 
And  hear  the  scornful  people  speak 


Canto  LX1V. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


303 


Of  Rama  as  a  coward  weak. 
For  mine  will  be  the  coward's  shame 
Who  let  the  foeman  steal  his  dame. 
How  can  I  seek  my  home,  or  brook 
Upon  Videha's  king  to  look? 
How  listen,  when  he  bids  me  tell, 
My  wanderings  o'er,  that  all  is  well  ? 
He,  when  I  meet  his  eager  view, 
Will  mark  that  Sita  comes  not  too, 
And  when  he  hears  the  mournful  tale 
His  wildered  sense  will  reel  and  fail. 
'  0  Dasaratha,'  will  he  cry, 
'  Blest  in  thy  mansion  in  the  sky  ! ' 
Ne'er  to  that  town  my  steps  shall  bend, 
That  town  which  Bharat's  arms  defend, 
For  e'en  the  blessed  homes  above 
Would  seem  a  waste  without  my  love. 
Leave  me,  my  brother,  here,  I  pray  ; 
To  fair  Ayodhya  bend  thy  way. 
Without  my  love  I  cannot  bear 
To  live  one  hour  in  blank  despair. 
Round  Bharat's  neck  thy  f^nd  arms  twine, 
And  greet  him  with  these  words  of  mine  : 
*  Dear  brother,  still  the  power  retain, 
And  o'er  the  land  as  monarch  reign.' 
With  salutation  next  incline 
Before  thy  mother,  his,  and  mine. 
Still,  brother,  to  my  words  attend, 
And  with  all  care  each  dame  befriend. 
To  my  dear  mother's  ear  relate 
My  mournful  tale  and  Sita's  fate.' 

Thus  Rama  gave  his  sorrow  vent, 
And  from  a  heart  which  anguish  rent, 
Mourned  for  his  wife  in  loud  lament, — 

Her  of  the  glorious  hair, 
From  Lakshman's  cheek  the  colour  fled, 
And  o'er  his  heart  came  sudden  dread, 
bick,  faint,  and  sore  disquieted 

By  woe  too  great  to  bear. 

CANTO  LXIV. 


RAMA'S  LAMENT. 

Reft  of  his  love,  the  royal  chief, 
Weighed  down  beneath  his  whelming- grief, 
Desponding  made  his  brother  share 
His  grievous  burden  of  despair. 
Over  his  sinking  bosom  rolled 
The  flood  of  sorrow  uncontrolled, 

And  as  he  wept  and  sighed, 
In  mournful  accents  faint  and  slow 
With  words  congenial  to  his  woe, 

To  Lakshman  thus  he  cried : 
*  Brother,  1  ween,  beneath  the  sun, 
Of  all  mankind  there  lives  not  one 
So  full  of  sin,  whose  hand  has  done 

Such  cursed  deeds  as  mine. 
For  my  sad  heart  with  misery  bleeds, 
As,  guerdon  of  those  evil  deeds, 


Still  greater  woe  to  woe  succeeds 

In  never-ending  line. 
A  life  of  sin  I  freely  chose, 
And  from  my  past  transgression  flows 
A  ceaseless  flood  of  bitter  woes 

My  folly  to  repay. 
The  fruit  of  sin  has  ripened  fast, 
Through  many  a  sorrow  have  I  passed, 
And  now  the  crowning  grief  at  last 

Falls  on  my  head  to-day. 
From  all  my  faithful  friends  I  fled, 
My  sire  is  numbered  with  the  dead, 
My  royal  rank  is  forfeited, 

My  mother  far  away. 
These  woes  on  which  I  sadly  think 
Fill,  till  it  raves  above  the  brink, 
The  stream  of  grief  in  which  I  sink,*— 

The  flood  which  naught  can  stay. 
Ne'er,  brother,  ne'er  have  I  complained ; 
Though  long  by  toil  and  trouble  pained, 
Without  a  murmur  I  sustained 

The  woes  of  woodland  life. 
But  fiercer  than  the  flames  that  rise 
When  crackling  wood  the  food  supplies,- 
Flashing  a  glow  through  evening  skies,— 

This  sorrow  for  my  wife. 
Some  crued  fiend  has  seized  the  prey 
And  torn  my  trembling  love  away, 
While,  as  he  bore  her  through  the  skies, 
She  shrieked  aloud  with  frantic  cries, 
It  tones  of  fear  which,  wild  and  shrill, 
Retained  their  native  sweetness  still. 
Ah  me,  that  breast  so  soft  and  sweet, 
For  sandal's  precious  perfume  meet, 
Now  all  distained  with  dust  and  gore, 
Shall  meet  my  fond  caress  no  more. 
That  face,  whose  lips  with  tones  so  clear 
Made  pleasant  music,  sweet  to  hear,— 
With  soft  locks  plaited  o'er  the  brow,— 
Some  giant's  hand  is  on  it  now. 
It  smiles  not,  as  the  dear  light  fails 
When  Halm's  jaw  the  moon  assails. 
Ah,  my  true  love  !  that  shapely  neck 
She  loved  with  fairest  chains  to  deck, 
The  cruel  demons  rend,  and  drain 
The  lifeblood  from  each  mangled  vein. 
Ah.  when  the  savage  monsters  came 
And  dragged  away  the  helpless  dame, 
The  lady  of  the  long  soft  eye 
Called  like  a  lamb  with  piteous  cry. 
Beneath  this  rock,  0  Lakshman,  see, 
My  peerless  consort  sat  with  me, 
And  gently  talked  to  thee  the  while, 
Her  sweet  lips  opening  with  a  smile. 
Here  is  that  fairest  stream  which  she 
Loved  ever,  bright  Godavari. 
Ne'er  can  the  dame  have  passed  this  way  : 
So  far  alone  she  would  not  stray, 
Nor  has  my  darling,  lotus -eyed, 
Sought  lilies  by  the  river's  side, 
For  without  me  she  ne'er  would  go 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  til. 


To  streamlets  where  the  wild  flowers  grow, 
Tell  me  riot,  brother,  she  has  strayed 
To  the  dark  forest's  distant  shade 
Where  blooming  boughs  are  gay  and  sweet, 
And  bright  birds  love  the  cool  retreat. 
Alone  my  love  would  never  dare, — 
My  timid  love,— to  wander  there. 

O  Lord  of  Day  whose  eye  sees  all 
We  act  and  plan,  on  thee  I  call  : 
For  naught  is  hidden  from  thy  sight, — 
Great  witness  thou  of  wrong  and  right. 
Where  is  she,  lost  or  torn  away  ? 
Dispel  my  torturing  doubt  and  s  iv. 
And  O  thou  Wind  who  blowest  free, 
The  worlds  have  naught  concealed  from 

thee. 

List  to  my  prayer,  reveal  one  trace 
Of  her,  the  glory  of  her  race. 
Say,  is  she  stolen  hence,  or  dead, 
Or  do  her  feet  the  forest  tread  ? ' 

Thus  with  disordered  senses,  faint 
With  woe  he  poured  his  sad  complaint, 
And  then,  a  better  way  to  teach, 
Wise  Lakshman  spoke  in  seemly  speech  : 
4  Up.  brother  de'ar,  thy  grief  subdue, 
With  heart  and  soul  thy  search  renew. 
When  woes  oppress  and  dangers  threat 
Brave  effort  ne'er  was  fruit  es*  yet/ 

He  spoke,  but  Rama  gave  no  heed 
To  valiant  Lakshmsin's  prudent  rede. 
With  double  force  the  fio  >d  of  pain 
Hushed  o'er  his  yielding  soul  again. 


CANTO  LXV. 


RAiMA'S  WRATH. 

With  piteous  voice,  by  woe  subdued, 
Thus  Raghu's  son  his  speech  renewed  : 

'Thy  steps,  my  brother,  quickly  turn 
To  bright  Godavari  and  learn 
If  Sita  to  the  stream  have  hied 
To  cull  the  lilies  on  its  side.' 

Obedient  to  the  words  he  said, 
His  brother  to  the  river  sped. 
The  shelving  banks  he  searched  in  vain, 
And  then  to  Rama  turned  again. 

4 1  searched,  but  found  her  not,'  he  cried; 
'I  called  aloud,  but  none  replied. 
Where  can  the  Maithil  lady  stray, 
Whose  sight  woidd  chase  our  cares  away  ? 
1  know  not  where,  her  steps  untraced, 
Roams  !Sita  of  the  dainty  waist.' 

When  Rama  heard  the  words  he  spoke 
Again  he  sank  beneath  the  stroke, 
And  with  a  bosom  anguish-fraught 
Himself  the  lovely  river  sought. 
There  standing  on  the  shelving  side, 
'  O  Sita,  where  art  thou  ? '  he  cried. 


No  spirit  voice  an  answer  gave, 
No  murmur  from  the  trembling  wave 
Of  sweet  Godavari  declared 
The  outrage  which  the  fiend  had  dared. 
'  O  speak  ! '  the  pitying  spirits  cried, 
But  yet  the  stream  their  prayer  denied, 
Nor  dured  she,  coldly  mute,  relate 
To  the  sad  chief  his  darling's  fate. 
Of  Ravan's  awful  form  she  thought, 
And  the  dire  deed  his  arm  had  wrought, 
And  still  withheld  by  fear  dismayed, 
The  tale  for  which  the  mourner  prayed. 
When  hope  was  none,  his  heart  to  cheer, 
That  the  bright  stream  his  cry  would  hear, 
While  sorrow  for  hi;-  darling  tore 
His  longing  soul  he  spake  once  more  : 

*  Though  I  have  sought  with  tears  and  sighs 
Godavari  no  word  replies, 

0  sav,  what  answer  can  I  frame 
To  Janak  father  of  my  dame  ? 
Or  how  before  her  mother  stand 
Leading  n  >  Sita  by  the  hand  ? 
Where  is  mv  loyal  love  who  went 
Forth  with  her  lord  to  banishment? 
Her  faith  to  me  she  nobly  held 
Though  from  my  realm  and  home  expel- 
led,— 

A  hermit,  nursed  on  woodland  fare, — 
She  followed  still  and  soothed  my  care. 
Of  all  my  frieads  am  I  beref  r, 
Nor  is  my  faithful  consort  left. 
How  slowly  will  the  long  nights  creep 
While  comfortless  I  wake  and  weep  ! 
O,  if  my  wife  may  yet  be  found, 
With  humble  love  I'll  wander  round 
This  Janasthan,  Prasravau's  hill, 
Mandakini's  delightful  rill. 
See  how  the  deer  with  gentle  eyes 
Look  on  my  face  and  sympathize. 

1  mark  their  soft  expression  :  each 
Would  soothe  me,  if  it  could,  with  speech.' 

A  while  the  anxious  throng  he  eyed, 
And  '  Where  is  Sita,  where  ? !  lie  cried. 
Thus  while  hot  tears  his  utterance  broke 
The  mourning  son  of  Katrhu  t^poke. 
The  deer  in  pity  for  his  woes 
Obeyed  the  summons  and  arose. 
Upon  his  right  thy  stood,  and  raided 
Their  sad  eyes  up  to  heaven  and  gazed. 
Each  to  that  quarter  bent  her  look 
Which  liavan  with  his  captive  took. 
Then  Raghu's  son  again  they  viewed, 
And  toward  that  point  their' way  pursued. 
Then  Lakshman  watched  their  looks  in  tent 
As  moaning  on* their  way  they  went, 
And  marked  each  sign  which  struck  his 

sense 

With  mute  expressive  influence, 
Then  as  again  his  sorrow  woke 
Thus  to  his  brother  chief  he  spoke  : 

*  Those  deer  thy  eager  question  heard 


Canto  LXV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


305 


And  rose  at  once  by  pity  stirred  : 

See,  in  thy  search  their  aid  they  lend, 

See,  to  the  south  their  looks  they  bend. 

Arise,  dear  brother,  let  us  go 

The  way  their  eager  glances  show, 

If  haply  sign  or  trace  descried 

Our  footsteps  in  the  search  may  guide.' 

The  son  of  Raghu  gave  assent, 
And  quickly  to  the  south  they  went ; 
With  eager  eyes  the  earth  he  scanned, 
And  Lakshman  followed  close  at  hand. 
As  each  to  other  spake  his  thought, 
And  round  with  anxious  glances  sought, 
Scattered  before  them  in  the  way, 
Blooms  of  a  fallen  garland  lay. 
When  Rama  saw  that  flowery  rain 
He  spoke  once  more  with  bitterest  pain  : 

*  O  Lakshman  every  flower  that  lies 
Here  on  the  ground  I  recognize. 

1  culled  them  in  the  grove,  and  there 
My  darling  twined  them  in  her  hair. 
The  sun,  the  earth,  the  genial  breeze 
H  ave  spared  these  dowers  my  soul  to  please.' 

Then  to  that  woody  lull  he  prayed, 
Whence  flashed  afar  each  wild  cascade  : 

*  O  best  of  mountains,  hast  thou  seen 
A  dome  of  perfect  form  and  mien 

In  some  sweet  spot  with  trees  o'ergrown, — 
My  darling  whom  I  left  alone?' 
Then  as  a  lion  threats  a  deer 
He  thundered  with  a  voice  of  fear: 
'  Reveal  her,  mountain,  to  my  view 
With  golden  limbs  and  golden  hue. 
Where  is  my  darling  Sita  ?  speak 
Before  I  rend  thee  peak  from  peak.' 

Tiie  mountain  seemed  her  track  to  show, 
But  told  not  all  he  sought  to  know. 
Then  Dasaratha's  son  renewed 
His  summons  as  the  m  >unt  he  viewed: 
'  Soon  as  my  flaming  arrows  fly, 
Consumed  to  ashes  shalt  thou  lie 
Without  a  herb  or  bud  or  tree. 
And  birds  no  more  shall  dwell  in  thee. 
And  if  this  stream  my  prayer  deny, 
My  wrath  this  day  her  flood  shall  dry, 
Because  she  lends  no  aid  to  trace 
My  darling  of  the  lotus  face.' 

Thus  Rama  spake  as  though  his  ire 
Would  seorch  them  with  his  glance  of  fire  ; 
Then  searching  farther  on  the  ground 
The  footprint  of  a  fiend  he  found, 
And  small  light  traces  here  and  there, 
Where  Sita  in  her  great  despair, 
Shrieking  for  Kama's  help,  had  fled 
Before  the  giant's  mighty  tread. 
His  careful  eye  each  trace  surveyed 
Which  Sita  and  the  fiend  had  made, — 
The  quivers  and  the  broken  bow 
And  ruined  chariot  of  the  foe-, — 
And  told,  distraught  by  fear  and  grief, 
His  tidings  to  his  brother  chief  ; 


*  O  Lakshman,  here,'  lie  cried  '  behold 
My  Sita's  earrings  dropped  with  gold. 
Here  lie  her  garlands  torn  and  rent, 
Here  lies  each  glittering  ornament. 
O  look,  the  ground  on  every  side 
With  blood-like  drops  of  gold  is  dyed. 
The  fiends  who  wear  each  strange  disguise 
Have  seized,  I  ween,  the  helpless  prize. 
My  lady,  by  their  hands  o'erpowered, 
Is  slaughtered,  mangled,  and  devoured. 
Methinks  two  fearful  giants  came 
And  waged  fierce  battle  for  the  dame. 
Whose,  Lakshman,  was  this  mighty  bow 
With  pearls  and  gems  in  glittering  row  I 
Cast  to  the  ground  the  fragments  lie, 
And  still  their  glory  charms  the  eye* 
A  bow  so  mighty  sure  was  planned 
For  heavenly  God  or  giant's  hand. 
Whose  was  this  coat  of  golden  mail 
Which,  though  its  lustre  now  is  pale. 
Shone  like  the  sun  of  morning,  bright 
With  studs  of  glittering  lazuli te  ? 
Whose,  Lakshman,  was  this  bloom- wreath- 
ed shade 

With  all  its  hundred  ribs  displayed  ? 
This  screen,  most  meet  for  royal  brow, 
With  broken  staff  lies  useless  now. 
And  these  tall  asses,  goblin -faced, 
With  plates  of  golden  harness  graced, 
Whose  hideous  forms  are  stained  with  gore 
Who  is  the  lord  whose  yoke  they  bore  ? 
Whose  was  this  pierced  and  broken  car 
That  shoots  a  flame-like  blaze  afar  ? 
Wuose  these  spent  shafts  at  random  spread, 
Each  fearful  with  its  iron  head, — 
With  golden  mountings  fair  to  see, 
Long  as  a  chariot's  axle-tree  ? 
These  quivers  see.  which,  rent  in  twain, 
Their  sheaves  of  arrows  still  contain. 
Whose  was  this  driver  ?     Dead  and  cold, 
His  hands  the  whip  and  reins  still  hold. 
See,  Lakshman,  here  the  foot  I  trace 
Of  man,  nay,  one  of  giant  race. 
The  hatred  that  1  nursed  of  old 
Grows  mightier  now  a  hundred  fold 
Against  these  giants,  fierce  of  heart, 
Who  change  their  forms  by  magic  art, 
Slain,  eaten  by  the  giant  press, 
Or  stolen  is  the  votaress, 
Nor  could  her  virtue  bring  defence 
To  Sita  seized  and  hurried  hence. 
0,  if  my  love  be  slain  or  lost 
All  hope  of  bliss  for  me  is  crossed. 
The  power  of  all  the  worlds  were  vain 
To  bring  one  joy  to  soothe  my  pain. 
The  spirits  with  their  blinded  eyes 
Would  look  in  wonder,  and  despise 
The  Lord  who  made  the  worlds, .the  great 
Creator  when  compassionate. 
And  so,  I  ween,  the  Immortals  turn 
Cold  eyes  upon  me  now,  and  spurn 


306 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


III. 


The  weakling  prompt  at  pity's  call, 
Devoted  to  the  good  of  all. 
But  from  this  day  behold  me  changed, 
From  every  gentle  grace  estranged. 
Now  be  it  mine  all  life  to  slay, 
Aiid  sweep  these  cursed  fiends  away. 
As  the  great  sun  leaps  up  the  sky, 
And  the  cold  moonbeams  fade  and  die, 
So  vengeance  rises  in  my  breast. 
One  passion  conquering  all  the  rest. 
Gandharvas  in  their  radiant  place, 
The  Yakshas,  and  the  giant  race, 
Kinnars  and  men  shall  look  in  vain 
For  joy  they  ne'er  shall  see  again. 
The  anguish  of  my  great  despair, 

0  Lakshman,  fills  the  heaven  and  air  ; 
And  I  iu  wrath  all  life  will  slay 
Within  the  triple  world  to-day. 
Unless  the  Gods  in  heaven  who  dwell 
Restore  my  Sita,  safe  and  well, 

1  armed  with  all  the  fires  of  Fate. 
The  triple  world  will  devastate. 

The  troubled  stars  from  heaven  shall  fall, 
The  moon  be  wrapped  in  gloomy  pall, 
The  fire  be  quenched,  the  wind  be  stilled, 
The  radiant  sun  grow  dark  and  chilled  : 
Crushed  every  mountain's  towering  pride, 
And  everg  lake  and  river  dried, 
Dead  every  creeper,  plant,  and  tree, 
And  lost  tor  aye  the  mighty  sea. 
Thou  shalt  the  word  this  day  behold 
In  wild  disorder  uncontrolled, 
With  dying  life  which  naught  defends 
From  the  tierce  storm  my  bowstring  sends. 
My  shafts  this  day,  for  SitiVs  sake, 
The  life  of  every  iiend  shall  take, 
The  Gods  this  day  shall  see  the  force 
That  wings  my  arrows  on  their  course, 
And  mark  how  far  that  course  is  held, 
By  my  unsparing  wrath  impelled. 
No  God,  not  one  of  Daityu  strain, 
Goblin  or  Rakshas  shall  remain. 
My  wrath  shall  end  the  worlds,  and  all 
Demons  and  Gods  therewith  shall  fall. 
Each  world  which  Gods,  the  Danav  race, 
Aud  giants  make  their  dwelling  place, 
bhail  fall  beneath  my  arrows  sent 
In  fury  when  my  bow  is  bent. 
The  arrows  loosened  from  my  string 
Confusion  on  the  worlds  shall  bring. 
For  she  is  lost  or  breathes  no  more, 
Nor  will  the  Gods  my  love  restore. 
Hence  all  on  earth  with  life  and  breath 
This  day  I  dedicate  to  death. 
All,  till  my  darling  they  reveal, 
The  fury  of  my  shafts  shall  feel.' 

Thus  as  he  spake  by  rage  impelled, 
Ked  grew  his  eyes,  his  fierce  lips  swelled. 
His  bark  coat  round  his  form  he  drew 
And  coiled  his  hermit  braids  anew. 
Like  liudra  whea  he  yearned  to  slay 


The  demon  Tripur1  in  the  fray. 
So  looked  the  hero  brave  and  wise, 
The  fury  flashing  from  his  eyes. 
Then  Rama,  conqueror  of  the  foe, 
From  Lakshman's  hand  received  his  bow, 
Strained  the  great  string,  and  laid  thereon 
A  deadly  dart  that  flashed  and  shone, 
And  spake  these  words  as  fierce  in  ire 
As  He  who  ends  the  worlds  with  fire  : 

1  As  age  and  time  and  death  and  fate 
All  life  with  check  less  power  await, 
So  Lakshman  in  my  wrath  to-day 
My  vengeful' might  shall  brook  no  stay, 
Unless  this  day  I  see  my  dame 
In  whose  sweet  form  is  naught  to  blame,— 
Yea,  as  before,  my  love  behold 
Fair  with  bright  teeth  and  perfect  mould, 
This  world  shall  feel  a  deadly  blow 
Destroyed  with  ruthless  overthrow, 
And  serpent  lords  and  Gods  of  air, 
Gandharvas,  men,  the  doom  shall  share.' 

CANTO  LXVL 


LAKSHMAN'S  SPEECH. 

He  stood  incensed  with  eyes  of  flame, 
Still  mourning  for  his  ravished  dame, 
Determined,  like  the  fire  of  Fate, 
To  leave  the  wide  world  desolate. 
His  ready  bow  the  hero  eyed, 
And  as  again,  again  he  sighed, 
The  triple  world  would  fain  consume 
Like  Hara2  in  the  day  of  doom. 
Then  Lakshman  moved  with  sorrow  viewed 
His  brother  in  unwonted  mood, 
And  reverent  palm  to  palm  applied, 
Thus  spoke  with  lips  which  terror  dried 
4  Thy  heart  was  ever  soft  and  kind, 
To  every  creature's  good  inclined. 
Cast  not  thy  tender  mood  away, 
Nor  yield  to  anger's  mastering  sway. 
The  moon  for  gentle  grace  is  known, 
The  sun  has  splendour  all  his  own, 
The  restless  wind  is  free  and  fast, 
And  earth  in  patience  unsurpassed. 
So  glory  with  her  noble  fruit 
Is  thine  eternal  attribute. 
O,  let  not,  for  the  sin  of  one, 
The  triple  world  be  all  undone. 
I  know  not  whose  this  car  that  lies 
In  fragments  here  before  our  eyes, 
Nor  who  the  chiefs  who  met  and  fought, 
Nor  what  the  prize  the  foemen  sought ; 
Who  marked  the  ground  with  hoof  and 
wheel, 


1  An  Asur  or  demon,  king  of  Tripura, 
the  modern  Tipperah. 
*  Siva. 


Canto  LXVIL 


THE  It  A  MAY  AN. 


307 


Or  whose  the  hand  that  plied  the  steel 
Which  left  this  spot,  the  battle  o'er, 
Thus  sadly  dyed  with  drops  of  gore. 
Searching  with  utmost  care  1  view 
The  signs  of  one  and  not  of  two. 
Where'er  I  turn  mine  eyes  I  trace 
No  mighty  host  about  the  place. 
Then  mete  not  out  for  one  offence 
This  all-involving  recompense. 
For  kings  should  use  the  sword  they  bear, 
But  mild  in  time  should  learn  t  >  spare, 
Thou,  ever  moved  by  misery's  call, 
Wast  the  great  hope  and  stay  of  all, 
Throughout  this   world   who   would  not 

blame 

This  outrage  on  thy  ravished  dame  ? 
Gandharvas,  Danavs,  Gods,  the  trees, 
The  rocks,  the  rivers,  and  the  seas, 
Can  ne'er  in  aught  thy  soul  offend, 
As  one  whom  holiest  rites  befriend. 
But  him  who  dared  to  steal  the  dame 
Pursue,  O  King,  with  ceaseless  aim, 
With  me,  the  hermits1  holy  band, 
And  thy  great  bow  to  arm  thy  hand 
By  every  mighty  flood  we'll  seek, 
Each  wood,  each  hill  from  base  to  peak. 
To  the  fair  homes  of  Gods  we'll  fly, 
And  bright  Gandharvas  in  the  sky, 
Until  we  reach,  where'er  he  be, 
The  wretch  who  stole  thy  spouse  from  thee, 
Then  if  the  Gods  will  not  restore 
Thy  Sita  when  the  search  is  o'er, 
Then,  royal  lord  of  Kosal's  land, 
No  longer  hold  thy  vengeful  hand. 
If  meekness,  prayer,  and  right  be  weak 
To  bring  thee  back  the  dame  we  seek, 
Up,  brother,  with  a  deadly  shower 
Of  gold- bright  shafts  thy  foes  o'erpower, 
Fierce  as  the  flashing  levin  sent 
From  King  Mahendra's  firmament, 

CANTO"  LXVIL 


RAMA  APPEASED. 

As  Rama,  pierced  by  sorrow's  sting, 
Lamented  like  a  helpless  thing, 
And  by  his  mighty  woe  distraught 
Was  last  in  maze  of  troubled  thought, 
Sumitra's  son  with  loving  care 
Consoled  him  in  his  wild  despair, 
And  while  his  feet  he  gently  pressed 
With  words  like  these  the  chief  addressed; 
*  For  sternest  vow  and  noblest  deed 
Was  Dasaratha  blessed  with  seed. 
Thee  for  his  son  the  king  obtained, 
Jjike  Amrit  by  the  Gods  regained. 
Thy  gentle  graces  won  his  heart, 
And  all  too  weak  to  live  apart 
The  monarch  died,  as  Bharat  told, 
And  lives  on  high  mid  Gods  enrolled. 


If  thou,  O  Rama,  wilt  not  bear 

This  grief  which  fills  thee  with  despair, 

How  shall  a  weaker  man  e'er  hope, 

Infirm  and  mean,  with  woe  to  cope  ? 

Take  heart.  I  pray  thee,  noblest  chief  : 

Whatman  who  breathes  is  free  from  grief  ? 

Misfortunes  come  and  burn  like  flame, 

Then  fly  as  quickly  as  they  came. 

Yayati  son  of  Nahush  reigned 

With  Indra  on  the  throne  he  gained, 

But  falling  for  a  light  offence 

He  mourned  a  while  the  consequence. 

Vasishtha,  reverend  saint  and  sage, 

Priest  of  our  sire  from  youth  to  age, 

Begot  a  hundred  sons,  but  they 

Were  smitten  in  a  single  day.1 

And  she,  the  queen  whom  all  revere, 

The  mother  whom  we  hold  so  dear, 

The  earth  herself  not  seldom  feels 

Fierce  fever  when  she  shakes  and  reels. 

And  those  twin  lights,the  world's  great  eyes, 

On  which  the  universe  relies, — 

Does  not  eclipse  at  times  assail 

Their  brilliance  till  their  fires  grow  pale  ? 

The  mighty  Powers,  the  Immortal  Blest 

Bend  to  a  law  which  none  contest, 

No  God,  no  bodied  life  is  free 

From  conquering  Fate's  sup-  eme  decree. 

E'en  Sakra's  self  must  reap  the  meed 

Of  virtue  and  of  sinful  deed. 

And  O  great  lord  of  men,  wilt  thou 

Helpless  beneath  thy  misery  bow  ? 

No,  if  thy  dame  be  lost  or  dead, 

0  hero,  still  be  comforted, 
Nor  yield  for  ever  to  thy  woe 
O'ermastered  like  the  mean  and  low. 
Thy  peers,  with  keen  far-reaching  eyes, 
Spend  not  their  hours  in  ceaseless  sighs  : 
In  dire  distress,  in  whelming  ill 

Their  manly  looks  are  hopeful  still, 
To  this,  great  chief,  thy  reason  bend, 
And  earnestly  the  truth  perpend. 
By  reason's  aid  the  wisest  learn 
The  good  and  evil  to  discern. 
With  sin  and  goodness  scarcely  known 
Faint  light  by  chequered  lives  is  shown  ; 
Without  some  clear  undoubted  deed 
We  mark  not  how  the  fruits  succeed. 
In  time  of  old,  O  thou  most  brave, 
To  me  thy  lips  such  counsel  gave. 
Vrihaspati*  can  scarcely  find 
New  wisdom  to  instruct  thy  mind. 
For  thine  is  wit  and  genious  high 
Meet  for  the  children  of  the  sUy. 

1  rouse  that  heart  benumbed  by  pain 
And  call  to  vigorous  life  again. 

Be  manly  godlike  vigour  shown  ; 

Put  forth  that  noblest  strength,  thine  own, 

i  See  Book  I.  Canto  LIX. 
*  The  preceptor  of  the  Gods. 


308 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  III 


Strive,  best  of  old  Ikshvaku's  strain, 
Strive  till  the  conquered  foe  be  slain. 
Where  is  the  profit  or  the  joy 
If  thy  fierce  rage  the  worlds  destroy? 
Search  till  thou  find  the  guilty  foe, 
Then  let  thy  hand  no  mercy  show.' 

CANTO  LXVIII. 


JATAYUS. 

Thus  faithful  Lakshman  strove  to  cheer 
The  prince  with  counsel  wise  and  clear. 
Who,  prompt  to  seize  the  pith  of  all, 
Let  not  that  wisdom  idly  fall. 
With  vigorous  effort  he  restrained 
The  passion  in  his  breast  that  reigned, 
And  leaning  on  his  bow  for  rest 
His  brother  Lakshman  thus  addressed  : 
'  How  shall  we  labour  now,  reflect ; 
Whither  again  our  search  direct? 
Brother,  what  plan  canst  thou  devise 
To  bring  her  to  these  longing  eyes  ? ' 

To  him  by  toil  and  sorrow  tried 
The  prudent  Lakshman  thus  replied  : 
'  Come,  though  our  labour  yet  be  vain, 
And  search  through  Janasthan  again, — 
A  realm  where  giant  foes  abound. 
And  trees  and  creepers  hide  the  ground. 
For  there  are  caverns  deep  and  dread, 
By  deer  and  wild  birds  tenanted, 
And  hills  with  many  a  dark  abyss, 
Grotto  and  rock  and  precipice. 
There  bright  Gandharvas  love  to  dwell, 
And  Kumars  in  each  bosky  dell. 
With  me  thy  eager  search  to  aid 
Be  every  hill  and  cave  surveyed. 
Great  chiefs  like  thee,  the  best  of  men, 
Endowed  with  sense  and  piercing  ken, 
Though  tried  by  trouble  never  fail, 
Like  rooted  hills  that  mock  the  gale,' 

Then  Rama,  pierced  by  anger's  sting, 
Laid  a  keen  arrow  on  his  string, 
And  by  the  faithful  Lakshman's  side 
Roamed  through  the  forest  far  arid  wide. 
Jatayus  there  with  blood-drops  dyed, 
Lying  upon  the  ground  he  spied, 
Huge  as  a  mountain's  shattered  crest, 
Mid  all  the  birds  of  air  the  best. 
In  wrath  the  mighty  bird  he  eyed, 
And  thus  the  chief  to  Lakshman  cried  : 

;  Ah  me,  these  signs  the  truth  betray  ; 
My  darling  was  the  vulture's  prey. 
Some  demon  in  the  bird's  disguise 
Koams  through  the  wood  that  round  us  lies, 
On  large-eyed  Sita  he  has  fed, 
And  rests  him  now  with  wings  outspread. 
But  my  keen  shafts,  whose  flight  is  true, 
Shall  pierce  the  ravenous  monster  through.' 


An   arrow  on  the  string  he  laid, 
And  rushing  near  the  bird  surveyed, 
While  earth  to  ocean's  distant  side 
Trembled  beneath  his  furious  stride. 
With  blood  and  froth  on  neck  and  beak 
The  dying  bird  essayed  to  speak, 
And  with  a  piteous  voice,  distressed, 
Thus  Daiaratiia's  son  addressed  : 

'She  whom  fike  some  sweet  herb  of  grace 
Thou  seekest  hi  this  lonely  place, 
Fair  lady,  is  fierce  Ravan's  prey, 
Who  took,  beside,  my  life  away. 
Lakshman  and  thou  had  parted  hence 
And  left  the  dame  without  defence, 
I  saw  her  swiftly  borne  away 
By  Ravan's  might  which  none  could  stay. 
I  hurried*  to  the  lady's  aid, 
I  crushed  his  car  and  roya!  shade, 
And  putting  forth  my  warlike  might 
Hurled  Ravan  to  the  earth  in  right. 
Here,  Rama,  lies  his  broken  bow, 
Here  lie  the  arrows  of  the  foe. 
There  on  the  ground  before  thee  are 
The  fragments  of  his  battle  car. 
There  bleeds  the  driver  whom  my  wings 
Beat  down  with  ceaseless  buffeting*. 
When  toil  my  aged  strength  subdued, 
His  sword  my  weary  pinions  hewed. 
Then  lifting  up  the  dame  he  bare 
His  captive  through  the  fields  of  air. 
Thy  vengeful  blows  from  me  restrain, 
Already  by  the  giant  slain.' 

When  Rftma  heard  the  vulture  tell 
The  tale  that  proved  his  love  so  well, 
His  bow  upon  the  ground  he  placed, 
And  tenderly  the  bird  embraced  : 
Then  to  the  earth  he  fell  o'erpowered, 
And  burning  tears  both  brothers  showered, 
For  double  pain  and  anguish  pressed 
Upon  the  patient  hero's  breast. 
The  solitary  bird  he  eyed 
Who  in  the  lone  wood  gasped  and  sighed. 
And  as  again  his  anguish  woke 
Thus  Rama  to  his  brother  spoke: 

4  Expelled  from  power  the  woods  I  tread 
My  spouse  is  lost,  the  bird  is  dead. 
A  fate  so  sad.  I  ween,  would  tame 
The  vigour  of  the  glorious  flame. 
If  I  to  cool  my  fever  tried 
To  cross  the  deep  from  side  to  side, 
The  sea,— so  hard  my  fate, — would  dry 
His  waters  as  my  feet  came  nigh. 
In  all  this  world  there  lives  not  one 
So  cursed  as  I  beneath  the  sun  ; 
So  strong  a  net  of  misery  cast 
Around  me  holds  the  captive  fast, 
Best  of  all  birds  that  play  the  wing, 
Loved,  honoured  by  our  sire  the  king, 
The  vulture,  in  my  fate  enwouud, 
Lies  bleeding,  dying  on  the  ground.' 

Then  Rama  and  his  brother  stirred 


JKAMA  I  Art. 


309 


By  pity  mourned  the  royal  bird, 

And,  as  their  hands  his  limbs  caressed, 

Affection  for  a  sire  expressed. 

And  Rama  to  his  bosom  strained 

The  bird  with  mangled  wings  distained, 

With  crimson  blood-drops  dyed. 
He  fell,  and  shedding  many  a  tear, 
*  Where  is  my  spouse  than  life  more  dear  ? 

Where  is  my  love?'  he  cried, 


CANTO  LXIX. 


THE  DEATH  OF  JATAYUS. 

As  Rama  viewed  with  heart-felt  yam 
The  vulture  whom  the  fiend  had  slain, 
In  words  with  tender  love  impressed 
His  brother  chief  he  thus  addressed  : 

4  This  royal  bird  with  faithful  thought 
For  my  advantage  strove  and  fought. 
•Slain  by  the  fiend  in  mortal  strife 
For  me  he  yields  his  noble  life. 
See,  Lakshman,  how  his  wounds  have  bled; 
His  struggling  breath  will  soon  have  fled. 
Faint  is  his  voice,  and  near  to  die, 
He  scarce  can  lift  his  trembling  eye, 
Jatayus,  if  thou  still  can  speak, 
Give,  give  the  answer  that  I  seek. 
The  fate  of  ravished  Sita  tell, 
And  how  thy  mournful  chance  befell. 
Say  why  the  giant  stole  my  dame : 
What  have  I  done  that  he  could  blame? 
What  fault  in  me  has  Ravan  seen 
That  he  should  rob  me  of  my  queen  ? 
How  looked  the  lady's  moon-bright  cheek  ? 
What  were  the  words  she  found  to  speak  ? 
His  strength,  his  might, his  deeds  declare: 
And  tell  the  form  he  loves  to  wear. 
To  all  my  questions  make  reply  : 
Where  does  the  giant's  dwelling  lie  ? ' 

The  noble  bird  his  glances  bent 
On  Rama  as  he  made  lament, 
Arid  in  low  accents  faint  and  weak 
With  anguish  thus  began  to  speak  : 
'  Fierce  Ravan,  king  of  giant  race, 
Stole  Sita  from  thy  dwelling-place. 
He  calls  his  magic  art  to  aid 
With  wind  and  cloud  and  gloomy  shade. 
When  in  the  fight  my  power  was  speut 
My  wearied  wings  he  cleft  and  rent. 
Then  round  the  dame  his  arms  he  threw, 
And  to  the  southern  region  flew. 
O  Raghu's  son,  I  gasp  for  breath, 
My  swimming  sight  is  dim  in  death. 
E'en  now  before  my  vision  pass 
Bright  trees  of  gold  with  hair  of  grass. 
The  hour  the  impious  robber  chose 
Brings  on  the  thief  a  flood  of  woes. 
The  giant  in  his  haste  forgot 


'Twas  Vinda's  hour,1  orheedeoTnot. 
Those  robbed  at  such  a  time  obtain 
Their  plundered  store  and  wealth  again. 
He,  like  a  fish  that  takes  the  bait, 
In  briefest  time  shall  meet  his  fate. 
Now  be  thy  troubled  heart  controlled 
And  for  thy  lady's  loss  consoled, 
For  thoti  wilt  slay  the  fiend  in  fight 
And  with  thy  dame  have  new  delight.1 

With  senses  clear,  though  sorely  tried. 
The  royal  vulture  thus  replied, 
While  as  he  sank  beneath  his  pain 
Forth  rushed  the  tide  of  blood  again. 
'Him,2  brother  of  the  Lord  of  Gold, 
Visravas'  self  begot  of  old.' 
Thus  spoke  the  bird,  and  stained  with  gore 
Resigned  the  breath  that  came  no  more. 

'  Speak,  speak  again  !'  thus  Rama  cried, 
With  reverent  palm  to  palm  applied, 
But  from  the  frame  the  spirit  fled 
And  to  the  skiey  regions  sped. 
The  breath  of  life  had  passed  away. 
Stretched  on  the  ground  the  body  lay. 

When  Rama  saw  the  vulture  lie, 
Huge  as  a  hill,  with  darksome  eye, 
With  many  a  poignant  woe  distressed 
His  brother  chief  he  thus  addressed  : 
'Amid  these  haunted  shades  content 
Full  many  a  year  this  bird  has  spent 
His  life  in  home  of  giants  passed, 
In  Dandak  wood  he  dies  at  iast. 
The  years  in  lengthened  course  have  fled 
Untroubled  o'er  the  vulture's  head, 
And  now  he  lies  in  death,  for  none 
The  stern  decrees  of  Fate  may  shun. 
See.  Lakshman,  how  the  vulture  fell 
While  for  my  sake  he  battled  well. 
And  strove  to  free  with  onset  bold 
My  Sita  from  the  giant's  hold. 
Supreme  amid  the  vulture  kind 
His  ancient  rule  the  bird  resigned, 
And  conquered  in  the  fruitless  strife 
Gave  for  my  sake  his  noble  life. 
O  Lakshman,  many  a  time  we  see 
Great  souls  who  keep  the  law's  decree, 
With  whom  the  weak  sure  refuge  find, 
In  creatures  of  inferior  kind. 
The  less  of  her,  my  darling  queen, 
Strikes  with  a  pang  less  fiercely  keen 
Than  now  this  slaughtered  bird  to  see 
Who  nobly  fought  and  died  for  me. 
As  Daaaratha,  good  and  great, 
Was  glorious  in  his  high  estate, 
Honoured  by  all,  to  all  endeared, 
So  was  this  royal  bird  revered. 
Bring  fuel  for  the  funeral  rite  ; 
These  hands  the  solemn  fire  shall  light 


1  From  the  root  vid,  to  find, 

2  Ravan, 


310 


TEE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  III. 


And  on  the  burning  pyre  shall  lay 
The  bird  who  died  for  me  to-day. 
Now  on  the  gathered  wood  shall  lie 
The  lord  of  all  the  birds  that  fly, 
And  I  will  burn  with  honours  due 
My  champion  whom  the  giant  slew. 
O  royal  bird  of  noblest  heart, 
Graced  with  all  funeral  rites  depart 
To  bright  celestial  seats  above, 
Rewarded  for  thy  faithful  love, 
Dwell  in  thy  happy  home  with  those 
Whose  constant  tires  of  worship  rose. 
Live  blest  amid  the  unyielding  brave, 
And  those  who  land  in  largess  gave.' 

Sore  grief  upon  his  bosom  weighed 
As  on  the  pyre  the  bird  he  laid, 
And  bade  the  kindled  flame  ascend 
To  burn  the  body  of  his  friend. 
Then  with  his  brother  by  his  side 
The  hero  to  the  forest  hied. 
There  many  a  stately  deer  he  slew, 
The  flesh  around  the  bird  to  strew. 
The  venison  into  balls  he  made, 
And  on  fair  grass  before  him  laid. 
Then  that  the  parted  soul  might  rise 
And  find  free  passage  to  the  skies. 
Each  solemn  word  and  text  he  said 
Which  Brahmans  utter  o'er  the  dead. 
Then  hastening  went  the  princely  pair 
To  bright  Godavari,  and  there 
Libations  of  the  stream  they  poured 
In  honour  of  the  vulture  lord, 
With  solemn  ritual  to  the  slain, 
As  scripture's  holy  texts  ordain. 
Thus  offerings  to  the  bird  they  gave 
And  bathed  their  bodies  in  the  wave. 

The  vulture  monarch  having  wrought 

A  hard  and  glorious  feat, 
Honoured  by  Kama  sage  in  thought, 

Soared  to  his  blissful  seat. 
The  brothers,  when  each  rite  was  paid 

To  him  of  birds  supreme, 
Their    hearts   with    new-found   comfort 
stayed, 

And  turned  them  from  the  stream. 
Like  sovereigns  of  celestial  race 

Within  the  wood  they  came, 
Each  pondering  the  means  to  trace, 

The  captor  of  the  dame. 

CANTO  LXX. 


KABANDHA. 

When  every  rite  was  duly  paid 

The  princely  brothers  onward  strayed, 

An  eager  in  the  lady's  quest 

They  turned  their  footsteps  to  the  west. 

Through  lonely  woods  that  round  them  lay 

Ikshvaku's  children  made  their  way, 


And  armed  with  bow  and  shaft  and  brand 
Pressed  onward  to  the  southern  land. 
Thick  trees  and  shrubs  and  creepers  grew 
In  the  wild  grove  they  hurried  through, 
'Twas  dark  and  drear  and  hard  to  pass 
For  tangled  thorns  and  matted  grass. 
Still  onward  with  a  southern  course 
They  made  their  way  with  vigorous  force, 
And  passing  through  the  mazes  stood 
Beyond  that  vast  and  fearful  wood. 
With  toil  and  hardship  yet  unspent 
Three  leagues  from  Janasthan  they  went, 
And  speeding  on  their  way  at  last 
Within  the  wood  of  Krauncha1  passed  : 
A  fearful  forest  wild  and  black 
As  some  huge  pile  of  cloudy  rack, 
Filled  with  all  birds  and  beasts,  where  grew 
Bright  blooms  of  every  varied  hue, 
On  Sita  bending  every  thought 
Through  all  the  mighty  wood  they  sought, 
And  at  the  lady's  loss  dismayed 
Here  for  a  while  and  there  they  stayed. 
Then  turning  farther  eastward  they* 
Pursued  three  leagues  their  weary  way, 
Passed  Krauncha's  wood  and  reached  the 

grove 

Where  elephants  rejoiced  to  rove. 
The  chiefs  that  awful  wood  surveyed 
Wheredeerand  wild  birds  tilled  each  glade, 
Where  scarce  a  step  the  foot  could  take 
For  tangled  shrub  and  tree  and  brake. 
There  in  a  mountain's  woody  side 
A  cave  the  royal  brothers  spied, 
With  dread  abysses  deep  as  hell, 
Where  darkness  never  ceased  to  dwell. 
When,  pressing  on,  the  lords  of  men 
Stood  near  the  entrance  of  the  den, 
They  saw  within  the  dark  recess 
A  huge  misshapen  giantess  ; 
A  thing  the  timid  heart  that  shook 
With  fearful  shape  and  savage  look. 
Terrific  fiend,  her  voice  was  tierce, 
Long  were  her  teeth  to  rend  and  pierce. 
The  monster  gorged  her  horrid  feast 
Of  flesh  of  many  a  savage  beast, 
While  her  long  locks,  at  random  flung, 
Dishevelled  o'er  her  shoulders  hung. 
Their  eyes  the  royal  brothers  raised, 
And  on  the  fearful  monster  gazed. 
Forth  from  her  den  she  came  and  glanced 
At  Lakshman  as  he  first  advanced, 
Her  eager  arms  to  hold  him  spread, 
And  '  Come  and  be  my  love  '  she  said, 
Then  as  she  held  him  to  her  breast, 
The  prince  in  words  like  these  addressed  : 
'  Behold  thy  treasure  fond  and  fair : 
Ayomukhi2  the  name  I  bear. 

1  Or  Curlews'  Wood. 

2  Iron-faced. 


Canto  LXX. 


THE  HAM  AY  AN. 


311 


In  thickets  of  each  lofty  hill, 
On  islets  of  each  brook  and  rill, 
With  me  delighted  shalt  thou  play, 
And  live  for  many  a  lengthened  day.' 

Enraged  he  heard  the  monster  woo  ; 
His  ready  sword  he  swiftly  drew, 
And  the  sharp  steel  that  quelled  his  foes 
Cut  through  her  breast  and  ear  and  nose. 
Thus  mangled  by  his  vengeful  sword 
In  rage  and  pain  the  demon  roared, 
And  hideous  with  her  awful  face 
Sped  to  her  secret  dwelling  place. 
Soon  as  the  fiend  had  fled  from  sight, 
The  brothers,  dauntless  in  their  might, 
Reached  a  wild  forest  dark  and  dread 
Whose  tangled  ways  were  hard  to  tread. 
Then  bravest  Lakshman,  virtuous  youth, 
The  friend  of  purity  and  truth, 
With  reverent  palm  to  palm  applied 
Thus  to  his  glorious  brother  cried : 

'  My  arm  presaging  throbs  amain, 
My  troubled  heart  is  sick  with  pain, 
And  cheerless  omens  ill  portend 
Where'er  my  anxious  eyes  I  bend. 
Dear  brother,  hear  my  words  :  advance 
Resolved  and  armed  for  every  chance, 
For  every  sign  I  mark  to-day 
Foretells  a  peril  in  the  way. 
This  bird  of  most  ill-omened  note, 
Loud  screaming  with  discordant  throat, 
Announces  with  a  warning  cry 
That  strife  and  victory  are  nigh.' 

Then  as  the  chiefs  their  search  pursued 
Throughout  the  dreary  solitude, 
Tiiey  heard  amazed  a  mighty  sound 
That  broke  the  very  trees  around. 
As  though  a  furious  tempest  passed 
Crushing  the  wood  beneath  its  blast. 
Then  Rama  raised  his  trusty  sword, 
And  both  the  hidden  cause  explored. 
There  stood  before  their  wondering  eyes 
A  fiend  broad-chested,  huge  of  size. 
A  vast  misshapen  trunk  they  saw 
In  height  surpassing  nature's  law. 
It  stood  before  them  dire  and  dread 
Without  a  neck,  without  a  head. 
Tall  as  some  hill  aloft  in  air, 
Its  limbs  were  clothed  with  bristling  hair, 
And  deep  below  the  monster's  waist 
His  vast  misshapen  mouth  was  placed. 
His  form  was  huge,  his  voice  was  loud 
As  some  dark-tinted  thunder  cloud. 
Forth  from  his  ample  chest  there  came 
A  brilliance  as  of  gushing  flame. 
Beneath  long  lashes,  dark  and  keen 
The  monster's  single  eye  was  seen. 
Deep  in  his  chest,  long,  fiercely  bright, 
It  glittered  with  terrific  light. 
He  swallowed  down  his  savage  fare 
Of  lion,  bird,  and  slaughtered  bear, 
And  with  huge  teeth  exposed  to  view 
21 


O'er  his  great  lips  his  tongue  he  drew. 
His  arms  unshapely,  vast  and  dread, 
A  league  in  length,  he  raised  and  spread. 
He  seized  with  monstrous  hands  a  herd 
Of  deer  and  many  a  bear  and  bird. 
Among  them  all  he  picked  and  chose, 
Drew  forward  these,  rejected  those. 
Before  the  princely  pair  he  stood 
Barring  their  passage  through  the  wood. 
A  league  of  shade  the  chiefs  had  passed' 
When  on  the  fiend  their  eyes  they  cast, 
A  monstrous  shape  without  a  head 
With  mighty  arms  before  him  spread, 
They  saw  that  hideous  trunk  appeal- 
That  struck  the  trembling  eye  with  fear. 
Then,  stretching  to  their  full  extent 
His  awful  arms  with  ringers  bent, 
Bound  Raghu's  princely  sons  he  cast 
Each  grasping  limb  and  held  them  fast. 
Though  strong-  of  arm  and  tierce  in  fight, 
Each  armed  with  bow  and  sword  to  smite, 
The  royal  brothers,  brave  arid  bold, 
Were  helpless  in  the  giant's  hold. 
Then  Raghu's  son,  heroic  still, 
Felt  not  a  pang  his  bosom  thrill ; 
But  young,  with  no  protection  near, 
His  brother's  heart  was  sad  with  fear, 
And  thus  with  trembling  tongue  he  said 
To  Rama,  sore  disquieted  : 

*  Ah  me,  ah  me,  my  days  are  told  : 
0  see  me  in  the  giant's  hold. 

Fly,  son  of  Raghu,  swiftly  flee, 

And  thy  dear  self  from  danger  free. 

Me  to  the  fiend  an  offering  give  ; 

Fly  at  thine  ease  thyself  and  live. 

Thou,  great  Kakutstha's  son,  I  ween, 

Wilt  find  ere  long  thy  Maithil  queen, 

And  when  thou  boldest,  throned  again, 

Thine  old  hereditary  reign. 

With  servants  prompt  to  do  thy  will, 

O  think  upon  thy  brother  still.' 

As  thus  the  trembling  Lakshman  cried, 

The  dauntless  Rama  thus  replied  ; 

'Brother,  from  causeless  dread  forbear. 

A  chief  like  thee  should  scorn  despair,' 

He  spoke  to  soothe  his  wild  alarm  ; 

Then  fierce  Kabandha1  long  of  arm, 

Among  the  Danavs*  first  and  best, 

The  sons  of  Raghu  thus  addressed  : 

'  What  men  are  you,  whose  shoulders  show 

Broad  as  a  bull's,  with  sword  and  bow, 

Who  roam  this  dark  and  horrid  place, 

Brought  by  your  fate  before  my  face? 

Declare  by  what  occasion  led 

These  solitary  wilds  you  tread, 

With  swords  and  bows  and  shafts  to  pierce, 

1  Kabandha  means  a  trunk. 

*  A  class  of  mythological  giants.  In  the 
Epic  period  they  were  probably  personifi- 
cations of  the  aborigines  of  India. 


512 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool  III. 


Like  bulls  whose  horns  are  strong  and  fierce. 
Why  have  you  sought  this  forest  land 
Where  wild  with  hunger's  pangs  I  stand  ? 
Now  as  your  steps  my  path  have  crossed 
Esteem  your  lives  already  lost.' 

The  royal  brothers  heard  with  dread 
The  words  which  fierce  Kabandha  said. 
And  Kama  to  his  brother  cried, 
"Whose  cheek  by  blanching  fear  was  dried. 

'Alas,  we  fall,  O  valiant  chief, 
From  sorrow  into  direr  grief. 
Still  mourning  her  I  hold  so  dear 
We  see  our  own  destruction  near. 
Mark,  brother,  mark  what  power  has  time 
O'er  all  that  live,  in  every  clime. 
Now,  lord  of  men,  thyself  and  me 
Involved  in  fatal  danger  see. 
'Tis  not,  be  sure,  the  might  of  Fate 
That  crushes  ail  with  deadly  weight. 
Ne'er  can  the  brave  and  strong,  who  know 
The  use  of  spear  and  sword  and  bow, 
The  force  of  conquering  time  withstand, 
But  fall  like  barriers  built  of  sand.' 

Thus  in  calm  strength  which  naught 

could  shake 
The  son  of  Dasaratha  spake, 

With  glory  yet  unstained 
Upon  Suinitra's  son  he  bent 
His  eyes,  and  firm  in  his  intent 

His  dauntless  heart  maintained. 


CANTO  LXXI. 
KABANDHA'S  SPEECH. 

Kabandha  saw  each  chieftain  stand 
Imprisoned  by  his  mighty  hand, 
Which  like  a  snare  around  him  pressed 
And  thus  the  royal  pair  addressed: 
'  Why,  warriors,  are  your  glances  bent 
On  me  whom  hungry  pangs  torment? 
Why  stand  with  \vildered  senses  ?  Fate 
Has  brought  you  now  my  maw  to  sate.' 

When  Lakshman  heard,  a  while  appalled, 
His  ancient  courage  he  recalled, 
And  to  his  brother  by  his  side 
With  seasonable  counsel  cried  : 

'  This  vilest  of  the  giant  race 
Will  draw  us  to  his  side  apace. 
Come,  rouse  thee  ;  let  the  vengeful  sword 
Smite  off  his  arms,  my  honoured  lord. 
This  awful  giant,  vast  of  size, 
On  his  huge  strength  of  arm  relies, 
And  o'er  the  world  victorious,  thus 
With  mighty  force  would  slaughter  us. 
Bat  in  cold  "blood  to  slay,  0  King, 
[Discredit  on  the  brave  would  bring, 
As  when  some  victim  in  the  rite 
fchims  not  the  hand  upraised  to  smite.' 

The  monstrous  fiend,  to  anger  stirred, 


The  converse  of  the  brothers  heard. 
His  horrid  mouth  he  opened  wide 
And  drew  the  princes  to  his  side. 
They,  skilled  due  time  and  place  to  note, 
Unsheathed  their  glittering  swords  and 

smote, 

Till  from  the  giant's  shoulders  they 
Had  hewn  the  mighty  arms  away. 
His  trenchant  falchion  Rama  plied 
And  smote  him  on  the  better  side, 
While  valiant  Lakshman  on  the  left 
The  arm  that  held  him  prisoned  cleft. 
Then  to  the  earth  dismembered  fell 
The  monster  with  a  hideous  yell, 
And  like  a  cloud's  his  deep  roar  went 
Through  earth  and  air  and  firmament. 
Then  as  the  giant's  blood  flowed  fast, 
On  his  cleft  limbs  his  eye  he  cast, 
And  called  upon  the  princely  pair 
Their  names  and  lineage  to  declare. 
Him  then  the  noble  Lakshman,  blest 
With  fortune's  favouring  marks,  addressed, 
And  told  the  tiend  his  brother's  name 
And  the  high  blood  of  which  he  came  : 
'  Ikshvaku's  heir  here  Rama  stands, 
Illustrious  through  a  hundred  lauds. 
I,  younger  brother  of  the  heir, 
(3  tiend,  the  name  of  Lakshman  bear. 
His  mother  stole  his  realm  away 
And  drove  him  forth  in  woods  to  stray. 
Thus  through  the  mighty  forest  he 
Roamed  with  his  royal  wife  and  me, 
While  glorious  as  a  God  he  made 
His  dwelling  in  the  greenwood  shade, 
S'»me  giant  stole  away  his  dame, 
And  seeking  her  we  hither  came. 
Hut  tell  me  who  thou  art,  and  why 
With  headless  trunk  that  towered  so  high. 
With  flaming  face  beneath  thy  chest, 
Thou  liest  crushed,  in  wild  unrest.' 

He  heard  the  words  that  Lakshman  spoke, 
And  memory  in  his  breast  awoke,  ' 
Recalling  Indra's  words  to  mind 
He  spoke  in  gentle  tones  and  kind: 
'  ()  welcome,  best  of  men,  are  ye 
Whom,  blest  by  fate,  this  day  I  see. 
A  blessing  on  each  trenchant  blade 
That  low  on  earth  these  arms  has  laid  ! 
Thou,  lord  of  men,  incline  thine  ear 
The  story  of  my  woe  to  hear, 
While  I  the  rebel  pride  declare 
Which  doomed  me  to  the  form  I  wear.' 

CANTO  LXXII. 


KABANDHA'S  TALE. 

*  Lord  of  the  mighty  arm,  of  yore 
A  shape  transcending  thought  I  wore, 
And  through  the  hi  pie  world's  extent 
My  fame  for  might  and  valour  went. 


Canto   LXXIT. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


313 


Scarce  might  the  sun  and  moon  on  high, 
Scarce  $akra,  with  my  beauty  vie. 
Then  for  a  time  this  form  1  took, 
And  the  great  world  with  trembling  shook, 
The  saints  in  forest  shades  who  dwelt 
The  terror  of  my  presence  felt. 
But  once  I  stirred  to  furious  rage 
Great  Sthulasiras,  glorious  sage. 
Culling  in  woods  his  hermit  food 
My  hideous  shape  with  fear  he  viewed. 
Then  forth  his  words  of  anger  burst 
That  bade  rne  live  a  thing  accursed  : 
Thou,  whose  delight  is  others'  pain, 
This  grisly  form  shalt  still  retain.' 

Then  when  I  prayed  him  to  relent 
And  fix  some  term  of  punishment, — 
Prayed  that  the  curse  at  length  might 

cease, 

He  bade  me  thus  expect  release : 
'  Let  Rama  cleave  thine  arms  away 
And  on  the  pyre  thy  body  lay, 
And  then  shalt  thou,  set  free  from  doom, 
Thine  own  fair  shape  once  more  assume,1 

0  Lakshman,  hear  my  words  :  in  me 
The  world-illustrious  Danu  see. 

By  Indra's  curse,  subdued  in  fight, 

1  wear  this  form  which  scares  the  sight. 
By  sternest  penance  long  maintained 
The  mighty  Father's  grace  I  gained. 
When  length  of  days  the  God  bestowed, 
With  foolish  pride  my  bosom  glowed. 
My  life,  of  lengthened  years  assured, 

1  deemed  from  Sakra's  might  secured. 

Let  by  my  senseless  pride  astray 
I  challenged  Indra  to  the  fray. 
A  flaming  bolt  with  many  a  knot 
With  his  terrific  arm  he  shot, 
And  straight  my  head  and  thighs  com- 
pressed 

Were  buried  in  my  bulky  chest. 
Deaf  to  each  prayer  and  piteous  call 
He  sent  rue  not  to  Yarna's  hall. 
'Thy  prayers  and  cries,' he  said,  'are  vain; 
The  Father's  word  must  true  remain.' 

But  how  may  lengthened  life  be  spent 
By  one  thy  bolt  has  torn  and  rent  ? 
flow  can  I  live,'  I  cried, '  unfed, 
With  shattered  face  and  thighs  and  head  ?' 
As  thus  I  spoke  his  grace  to  crave, 
Arms  each  a  league  in  length  he  gave, 
And  opened  in  my  chest  beneath 
This  mouth  supplied  with  fearful  teeth. 
So  my  huge  arms  I  used  to  cast 
Round  woodland  creatures  as  they  passed, 
And  fed  within  the  forest  here 
On  lion,  tiger,  pard,  and  deer. 
Then  Indra  spake  to  soothe  my  grief : 
1  When  Rama  and  his  brother  chief 
From  thy  huge  bulk  those  arms  shall  cleave, 
Then  shall  the  skies  thy  soul  receive.' 
Disguised  iu  this  terrific  shape 


I  let  no  woodland  thing  escape, 
And  still  my  longing  soul  was  pleased 
i  Whene'er  my  arms  a  victim  seized, 
For  in  these  arms  I  fondly  thought 
Would  Rama's  self  at  last  be  caught. 
Thus  hoping,  toiling  many  a  day 
I  yearned  to  cast  my  life  away, 
And  here,  my  lord,  thou  standest  now  : 
Blessings  be  thine  !  for  none  but  thou 
Could  cleave  my  arms  with   trenchant 

stroke : 

True  are  the  words  the  hermit  spoke. 
Now  let  me,  best  of  warriors,  lend 
My  counsel,  and  thy  plans  befriend, 
And  aid  thee  with  advice  in  turn 
I  If  thou  with  fire  my  corse  wilt  burn.' 
i      As  thus  the  miglity  Danu  prayed 
|  With  offer  of  his  friendly  aid, 
While  Lakshmau  gazed  with  anxious  eye, 
The  virtuous  Rama  made  reply: 
'  Lakshman  and  I  through  forest  shade 
From  Janasthan  a  while  had  strayed. 
When  none  was  near  her,  Ravan  came 
And  bore  away  my  glorious  dame, 
The  giant's  form  and  size  unknown, 
I  learn  as  yet  his  name  alone. 
Not  yet  the  power  and  might  we  know 
Or  dwelling  of  the  monstrous  foe. 
With  none  our  helpless  feet  to  guide 
We  wander  here  by  sorrow  tried. 
Let  pity  move  thee  to  requite 
Our  service  in  the  funeral  rite. 
Our  hands  shall  bring  the  boughs  that,  dry 
Where  elephants  have  rent  them,  lie, 
Then  dig  a  pit,  and  light  the  fire 
To  burn  thee  as  the  laws  require. 
Do  thou  as  meed  of  this  declare 
Who  stole  my  spouse,  his  dwelling  where, 
O,  if  thou  can.  I  pray  thee  say, 
And  let  this  grace  our  deeds  repay.' 

Danu  had  lent  attentive  ear 
The  words  which  Rama  spoke  to  hear, 
And  thus,  a  speaker  skilled  and  tried, 
To  that  great  orator  replied  : 
'  No  heavenly  lore  my  soul  endows, 
Naught  know  I  of  thy  Maithil  spouse. 
Yet  will  I,  when  my  shape  I  wear, 
Him  who  will  tell  thee  all  declare. 
Then,  Rama,  will  my  lips  disclose 
His  name  who  well  that  giant  knows. 
But  till  the  flames  my  corse  devour 
This  hidden  knowledge  mocks  my  power.' 
For  through  that  curse's  withering  taint 
My  knowledge  now  is  small  and  faint. 
Unknown  the  giant's  very  name 
Who  bore  away  the  Maithil  dame. 
Cursed  for  my  evil  deeds  I  wore 
A  shape  which  all  the  worlds  abhor. 
Now  ere  with  wearied  steeds  the  sun 
Through  western  skies  his  course  have  run, 
Deep  in  a  pit  my  body  lay 


314 


THE  RAMATAN. 


Boole  L 


And  burn  it  in  the  wonted  way. 
When  in  the  grave  my  corse  is  placed, 
With  fire  and  funeral  honours  graced, 
Then  I,  great  chief,  his  name  will  tell 
Who  knows  the  giant  robber  well. 
With  him,  who  guides  his  life  aright, 
In  league  of  trusting  love  unite, 
And  he,  O  valiant  prince,  will  be 
A  faithful  friend  and  aid  to  thee. 
For,  Rama,  to  his  searching  eyes 
The  triple  world  uncovered  lies. 
For  some  dark  cause  of  old,  I  ween, 
Through  all  the  spheres  his  ways  ha v  e  been,' 


CANTO  LXXIII. 


KABANDHA'S  COUNSEL, 

The  monster  ceased  :  the  princely  pair 
Heard  great  Kabandha's  eager  prayer. 
Within  a  mountain  cave  they  sped, 
Where  kindled  fire  with  care  they  fed. 
Then  Lakshman  in  his  mighty  hands 
Brought  ample  store  of  lighted  brands, 
And  to  a  pile  of  logs  applied 
The  flame  that  ran  from  side  to  side. 
The  spreading  glow  with  gentle  force 
Consumed  Kabandha'a  mighty  curse, 
Till  the  unresting  flames  had  drunk. 
The  marrow  of  the  monstrous  trunk, 
As  balls  of  butter  melt  away 
Amid  the  tires  that  o'er  them  play. 
Then  from  the  pyre,  like  flame  that  glows 
Undimrned  by  cloudy  smoke,  he  rose, 
In  garments  pure  of  spot  or  speck, 
A  heavenly  wreath  about  his  neck. 
Resplendent  in  his  bright  attire 
He  sprang  exultant  ir<;m  the  pyre. 
While  from  neck,  arm,  and  foot  was  sent 
The  flash  of  gold  and  ornament. 
High  on  a  chariot,  bright  of  hue, 
Which  swans  of  fairest  pinion  drew, 
He  filled  each  region  of  the  air 
With  splendid  glow  reflected  there. 
Then  in  the  sky  he  stayed  his  car 
And  called  to  Kama  from  afar  : 
'  Hear,  chieftain,  while  my  lips  explain 
The  means  to  win  thy  spouse  again. 
Six  plans,  O  prince,  the  wise  pursue 
To  reach  the  aims  we  hold  in  view.1 
When  evils  ripening  sorely  press 
They  load  the  wretch  with  new  distress, 
So  thou  and  Lakshman,  tried  by  woe, 
Have  felt  at  last  a  fiercer  blow, 
And  plunged  in  bitterest  grief  to-day 
Lament  thy  consort  torn  away. 
There  is  no  course  but  this  :  attend  ; 


i  Peace,  war,  marching,  halting,  sowing 
dissensions,  and  seeking  protection. 


Make,  best  of  friends,  that  chief  thy  frier 
Unless  his  prospering  help  thou  gain 
Thy  plans  and  hopes  must  all  be  vain. 
O  Kama,  hear  my  words,  and  se^k, 
Sugriva,  for  of  him  I  speak. 
His  brother  Bali,  Indra's  son, 
Expelled  him  when  the  fight  was  won. 
With  four  great  chief tain.s.  faithful  stil 
He  dwells  on  Kishyamuka's  hill, — 
Fair  mountain,  lonely  with  the  flow 
Of  Pampa's  waves  that  glide  below,-— 
Lord  of  the  Vanars1  just  and  true, 
Strong,  very  glorious,  bright  to  view, 
Unmatched  in  counsel,  firm  and  meek. 
Bound  by  each  word  his  lips  may  speak, 
Good,  splendid,  mighty,  bold  and  brave, 
Wise  in  each  plan  to  guide  and  save. 
His  brother,  fired  by  lust  of  sway,    • 
Drove  forth  the  prince  in  woods  to  stray 
In  all  thy  search  for  Sita  he 
Thy  ready  friend  and  help  will  be. 
With  him  to  aid  thee  in  thy  quest 
Dismiss  all  sorrow  from  thy  breast. 
Time  is  a  mighty  power,  and  none 
His  fixed  decree  can  change  or  shun. 
So  rich  reward  thy  toil  shall  bless, 
And  naught  can  stav  thy  sure  success. 
Speed  hence,  0  chief,  without  delay, 
To  strong  Sugriva  take  thy  way. 
This  hour  thy  footsteps  onward  bend. 
And  make  that  mighty  prince  thy  f  rien 
With  him  before  the  attesting  flame 
In  solemn  truth  alliance  frame. 
Nor  wilt  thou,  if  thy  heart  be  wise, 
Sugriva.  Vanar  king,  despise. 
Of  boundless  strength,  all  shapes  he  weai 
He  hearkens  to  a  suppliant's  prayers, 
And,  grateful  for  each  kindly  deed, 
Will  help  and  save  in  hour  of  need. 
And  you,  I  ween,  the  power  possess 
To  aid  his  hopes  and  give  redress. 
He,  let  his  cause  succeed  or  fail. 
Will  help  you,  and  you  must  prevail. 
A  banished  prince,  in  fear  and  woe 
He  roams  where  Pampa's  waters  flow, 
True  offspring  of  the  Lord  of  Light 
Expelled  by  Bali's  conquering  might. 
Go,  Kaghu's  son,  that  chieftain  seek 
Who  dwells  on  Rishyamuka's  peak. 
Before  the  flame  thy  weapons  cast 
And  bind  the  bonds  of  friendship  fast. 
For,  prince  of  all  the  Vanar  race, 
He  in  his  wisdom  knows  each  place 
Where  dwell  the  fierce  gigantic  brood 
Who  make  the  flesh  of  man  their  food. 
To  him,  O  K-aghu's  son,  to  him 
Naught  in  the  world  is  dark  or  dim, 
Where'er  the  mighty  Day-God  gleams 
Resplendent  with  a  thousand  beams. 


»  See  Book  J,  Canto  XVI. 


Canto  LXXIV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


315 


I  He  over  rocky  height  and  hill, 
Through  gloomy  cave,  by  lake  and  rill$ 
Will  with  his  Vanars  seek  the  prize, 
And  tell  thee  where  thy  lady  lies. 
And  he  will  send  great  chieftains  forth 
To  east  and  west  and  south  and  north, 
To  seek  the  distant  spot  where  she 
All  desolate  laments  for  thee. 
He  even  in  Ravan's  halls  would  find 
Thy  Sita*  gem  of  womankind. 
Yea,  if  the  blameless  lady  lay 

On  Meru's  loftiest  steep. 
Or,  far  removed  from  light  of  day, 

Where  hell  is  dark  and  deep, 
That  chief  of  all  the  Vanar  race 

His  way  would  still  explore, 
Meet  the  cowed  giants  face  to  face 
And  thy  dear  spouse  restore,' 


CANTO  LXXIV. 


KABANDHA'S  DEATH. 

When  wise  Kabandha  thus  had  taught 
The  means  to  find  the  dame  they  sought, 
And  urged  them  onward  in  the  quest, 
He  thus  again  the  prince  addressed  : 
'  This  path,  O  Raghu's  son,  pursue 
Where  those  fair  trees  which  charm  the 

view, 

Extending  westward  far  away, 
The  glory  of  their  bloom  display, 
W  here  thei  r  bright  leaves  Rose-apples  show, 
And  the  tall  Jak  and  Mango  grow. 
Whene'er  you  will,  those  trees  ascend, 
Or.  the  long  branches  shake  and  bend. 
Their  savoury  fruit  like  Amrit  eat, 
Then  onward  speed  with  willing  feet. 
Beyond  this  shady  forest,  decked 
With  flowering  trees,  your  course  direct. 
Another  grove  you  then  will  find 
With  every  joy  to  take  the  mind, 
Like  Randan  with  its  charms  displayed, 
Or  Northern  Kuru's  blissful  shade  ; 
Where  trees  distil  their  balmy  juice. 
And  fruit  through  all  the  year  produce  ; 
Whose  shades  with  seasons  ever  fair 
With  Chaitraratha  may  compare  ; 
Where  trees  whose  sprays  with  fruit  are 

bowed 

Rise  like  a  mountain  or  a  cloud. 
There,  when  you  list,  from  time  to  time, 
The  loaded  trees  may  Lakshman  climb, 
Or  from  the  shaken  boughs  supply 
Sweet  fruit  that  may  with  Amrit  vie, 
The  onward  path  pursuing  still 
From  wood  to  wood,  from  hill  to  hill, 
Your  happy  eyes  at  length  will  rest 
On  Pampa's  lotus-covered  breast, 


Her  banks  with  gentle  slope  descend, 

Nor  stones  nor  weed  the  eyes  offend, 

And  o'er  smooth  beds  of  silver  sand 

Lotus  and  lily  blooms  expand. 

There  swans  and  ducks  and  curlews  play, 

And  keen-eyed  ospreys  watch  their  prey, 

And  from  the  limpid  waves  are  heard 

Glad  notes  of  many  a  water-bird. 

Untaught  a  deadly  foe  to  fear 

They  fly  not  when  a  man  is  near, 

And  fat  as  balls  of  butter  they 

Will,  when  you  list,  your  hunger  stay. 

Then  Lakshman  with  his  shafts  will  take 

The  fish  that  swim  the  brook  and  lake, 

Remove  each  bone  and  scale  and  fin, 

Or  strip  away  the  speckled  skin, 

And  then  on  iron  skewers  broil 

For  thy  repast  the  savoury  spoil. 

Thou  on  a  heap  of  flowers  shalt  rest 

And  eat  the  meal  his  hands  have  dressed. 

There  shalt  thou  lie  on  Pampa's  brink. 

And  Lakshman 's  hand  shal  1  give  thee  drink, 

Filling  a  lotus*  leaf  with  cool 

Pure  water  from  the  crystal  pool, 

To  which  the  opening  blooms  have  lent 

The  riches  of  divinest  scent. 

Beside  thee  at  the  close  of  day 

Will  Lakshman  through  the    woodland 

stray, 

And  show  thee  where  the  monkeys  sleep 
In  caves  beneath  the  mountain  steep. 
Lurd-voiced  as  bulls  they  forth  will  burst 
And  seek  the  flood,  oppressed  by  thirst ; 
Then  rest  a  while,  their  wants  supplied, 
Their  well-fed  bands  on  Pampa's  side. 
Thou  roving  there  at  eve  shalt  see 
Rich  clusters  hang  on  shrub  and  tree, 
And  Pampa  flushed  with  roseate  glow, 
And  at  the  view  forget  thy  woe. 
There  shalt  thou  mark  with  strange  delight 
Each  loveliest  flower  that  blooms  by  night, 
While  lily  buds  that  shrink  from  day 
Their  tender  loveliness  display. 
In  that  far  wild  no  hand  but  thine 
Those  peerless  flowers  in  wreaths   shall 

twine : 

Immortal  in  their  changeless  pride, 
Ne'er  fade  those  blooms  and  ne'er  are  dried. 
There  erst  on  holy  thoughts  intent 
Their  days  Matanga's  pupils  spent. 
Once  for" their  master  food  they  sought, 
And  store  of  fruit  and  berries  brought. 
Then  as  they  laboured  through  the  dell 
From  limb  and  brow  the  heat  drops  fell  : 
Thence  sprang  and  bloomed  those  won- 
drous trees  ; 

Such  holy  power  have  devotees. 
Thus,  from  the  hermits'  heat-drops  sprung, 
Their  growth  is  ever  fresh  and  young. 
There    6avari  is  dwelling  yet, 
Who  served  each  vanished  anchoret, 


316 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


Boole  III. 


Beneath  the  shade  of  holy  boughs 
That  ancient  votaress  keeps  her  vows. 
Her  happy  eyes  on  thee  will  fall, 
O  godlike  prince,  adored  by  all, 
And  she,  whose  life  is  pure'from  sin, 
A  blissful  seat  in  heaven  will  win. 
But  cross,  O  son  of  Raghu,  o'er, 
And  stand  on  Pampa's  western  shore. 
A  tranquil  hermitage  that  lies  ^ 
Deep  in  tlie  woods  will  meet  thine  eyes, 
No  wandering  elephants  invade 
The  stillness  of  that  holy  shade, 
But  checked  by  saint  Matanga's  power 
They  spare  each  consecrated  bower. 
Through  many  an  age  those  trees  have  stood 
World-famous  as  Matanga's  wood. 
Still,  Raghu's  son,  pursue  thy  way  : 
Through  shades  where  birds  are  vocal  stray, 
Fair  as  the  blessed  wood  where  rove 
Immortal  Gods,  or  Nandan's  grove. 
Near  Pampa  eastward,  full  in  sight, 
StandsRishyamuka's  wood-crowned  height. 
'Tis  hard  to  climb  that  towering  steep 
Where  serpents  unmolested  sleep. 
The  free  and  bounteous,  formed  of  old 
By  Brahma  of  superior  mould, 
Who  sink  when  day  is  done  to  rest 
Reclining  on  that  mountain  crest, — 
What  wealth  or  joy  in  dreams  they  view, 
Awaking  find  the  vision  true. 
But  if  a  villain  stained  with  crime 
That  holy  hill  presume  to  climb, 
The  giants  in  their  fury  sweep 
From  the  hill  top  the  wretch  asleep. 
There  loud  and  long  is  heard  the  roar 
Of  elephants  on  Pampa's  shore, 
Who  near  Matanga's  dwelling  stray 
And  in  those  waters  bathe  and  play. 
A  while  they  revel  by  the  flood, 
Their  temples  stained  with  streams  like 

blood, 

Then  wander  far  away  dispersed, 
Dark  as  huge  clouds  before  they  burst. 
But  ere  they  part  they  drink  their  fill 
Of  bright  pure  water  from  the  rill, 
Delightful  to  the  touch,  where  meet 
Scents  of  all  flowers  divinely  sweet, 
Then  speeding  from  the  river  side 
Deep  in  the  sheltering  thicket  hide. 
Then  bears  and  tigers  shalt  thou  view 
Whose  soft  skins  show  the  sapphire's  hue, 
And  silvan  deer  that  wander  nigh 
Shall  harmless  from  thy  presence  fly. 
High  in  that  mountains  wooded  side 
Is  a  fair  cavern  deep  and  wide, 
Yet  hard  to  enter  :  piles  of  rock 
The  portals  of  the  cavern  block.1 


1  Or  as  the  commentator  Tirtha  sa)Ts 
&ilapidhana,  rock-covered,  may  be  the 
name  of  the  cavern, 


7ast  by  the  eastern  door  a  pool 

xleams  with  broad  waters  fresh  and  cool, 
Where  stores  of  roots  and  fruit  abound, 
And  thick  trees  shade  the  grassy  ground. 

This  mountain  cave  the  virtuoiis-souled 
Sugriva  and  his  Vanars  hold, 
And  of t  the  mighty  chieftain  seeks 

The  summits  of  those  towering  peaks.' 
Thus  spake  Kabandha  high  in  air 

His  counsel  to  the  royal  pair. 
Still  on  his  neck  that  wreath  he  bore, 
And  radiance  like  the  sun's  he  wore. 

Their  eyes  the  princely  brothers  raised 
And  on  that  blissful  being  gazed  : 

Behold,  we  go  :  no  more  delay  ; 

Begin,'  they  cried,  'thy  heavenward  way/ 

Depart,'  Kabandha's  voice  replied, 

Pursue  your  search,  and  bliss  betide.' 
Thus  to  the  happy  chiefs  he  said, 
Then  on  his  heavenward  journey  sped. 
Thus  once  again  Kabandha  won 
A  shape  that  glittered  like  the  sun 

Without  a  spot  or  stain. 
Thus  bade  he  Rama  from  the  air 
To  great  Sugriva's  side  repair 
His  friendly  love  to  gain. 

CANTO  LXXV. 


SAVARF. 

Thus  counselled  by  their  friendly  guide 
On  through  the  wood  the  princes  hied, 
Pursuing  still  the  eastern  road 
To  Pampa  which  Kabandha  showed, 
Where  trees  that  on  the  mountains  grew 
With  fruit  like  honey  charmed  the  view. 
They  rested  weary  for  the  night 
Upon  a  mountain's  wooded  height, 
Then  onward  with  the  dawn  they  hied 
And  stood  on  Pampa's  western  side, 
Where  &avari's  fair  home  they  viewed 
Deep  in  that  shady  solitude. 
The  princes  reached  the  holy  ground 
Where  noble  trees  stood  thick  around, 
And  joying  in  the  lovely  view 
Near  to  the  aged  votaress  drew. 
To  meet  the  sons  of  Raghu  came, 
With  hands  upraised,  the  pious  dame, 
And  bending  low  with  reverence  meet 
Welcomed  them  both  and  pressed  their  feet, 
Then  water,  as  beseems,  she  gave, 
Their  lips  to  cool,  their  feet  to  lave. 
To  that  pure  saint  who  never  broke 
One  law  of  duty  Rftma  spoke : 

*I  trust  no  cares  invade  thy  peace, 
While  holy  works  and  zeal  increase  ; 
That  thou  content  with  scanty  food 
All  touch  of  ire  hast  long  subdued  ; 
That  all  thy  vows  are  well  maintained 


Vanto  LXXVL 


THE 


317 


Wiile  peace  of  mind  is  surely  gained  : 
That  reverence  of  the  saints  who  taught 
Thy  faithf  ul  heart  due  fruit  has  brought.' 

The  aged  votaress  pure  of  taint, 
Revered  by  every  perfect  saint, 
Rose  to  i\er  feet  by  Rama's  side 
And  thus  In  gentle  tones  replied  : 
'  My  penanee'  meed  this  day  I  see 
Complete,  my  lord,  in  meeting  thee. 
This  day  the'iruit  of  birth  I  gain, 
Nor  have  I  served  the  saints  in  vain. 
I  reap  rich  fruits  of  toil  and  vow, 
And  heaven  itself  awaits  me  now, 
When  I,  O  chief  of  men,  have  done 
Honour  to  thee  the  godlike  one. 
I  feel,  great  lord,  thy  gentle  eye 
My  earthly  spirit  purify, 
And  I,  brave  tamer  of  thy  foes, 
Shall  through  thy  gra^e  in  bliss  repose. 
Thy  feet  by  Ohitrakuta  strayed 
When  those  great  saints  whom  I  obeyed, 
In  dazzling  chariots  bright  of  hue, 
Hence  to  their  heavenly  mansions  flew. 
As  the  high  saints  were  borne  away 
I  heard  their  holy  voices  say  : 
'  In  this  pure  grove,  O  devotee, 
Prince  Rama  soon  will  visit  thee. 
When  he  and  Lakshman  seek  this  shade, 
Be  to  thy  guests  all  honour  paid. 
Him  shalt  thou  see.  and  pass  away 
To  those  blest  worlds  which  ne'er  decay.' 
To  me,  O  mighty  chief,  the  best 
Of  lofty  saints  these  words  addressed. 
Laid  up  within  my  dwelling  lie 
Fruits  of  each  sort  which  woods  supply,— 
Food  culled  for  thee  in  endless  store 
From  every  tree  on  Pampa's  shore.' 

Thus  to  her  virtuous  guest  she  sued 
And  he,  with  heavenly  lore  endued. 
Words  such  as  these  in  turn  addressed 
To  her  with  equa}  knowledge  blest : 
'Danu  himself  the  power  has  told 
Of  thy  great  masters  lof  ty-souled. 
Now,  if  thou  will,  mine  eyes  would  fain 
Assurance  of  their  glories  gain.' 

She  heard  the  prince  his  wish  declare  : 
Then  rose  she,  and  the  royal  pair 
Of  brothers  through  the  wood  she  led 
That  round  her  holy  dwelling  spread. 
4  Behold  Matanga's  wood,'  she  cried, 
'  A  grove  made  famous  far  and  wide. 
Dark  as  thick  clouds  and  filled  with  herds 
Of  wandering  deer,  and  joyous  birds. 
In  this  pure  spot  each  reverend  sire 
With  offerings  fed  the  holy  fire. 
See,  here  the  western  altar  stands 
Where  daily  with  their  trembling  hands 
The  aged  saints,  so  long  obeyed 
By  me,  ^heir  gifts  of  blossoms  laid. 
The  holy  power,  O  Raghu's  son, 
By  their  ascetic  virtue  won, 


Still  keeps  their  well-loved  altar  bright, 
Filling  the  air  with  beams  of  light. 
And  those  seven  neighbour  ing  lakes  behold 
Which,  when  the  saints  infirm  and  old, 
Worn  out  by  fasts,  no  longer  sought, 
Moved  hither  drawn  by  power  of  thought. 
Look,  Rama,  where  the  devotees 
Hung  their  bark  mantles  on  the  trees, 
Fresh  from  the  bath :  those  garments  wet 
Through  many  a  day  are  dripping  yet. 
See,  through  those  aged  hermits'  power 
The  tender  spray,  the  bright-hued  flower 
With  which  the  saints  their  worship  paid, 
Fresh  to  this  hour  nor  change  nor  fade. 
Here  thou  hast  seen  each  lawn  and  dell, 
And  heard  the  tale  I  had  to  toll : 
Permit  thy  servant,  lord,  I  pray, 
To  cast  this  mortal  shell  away, 
For  I  would  dwell,  this  lify  resigned, 
With  those  great  saints  of  lofty" mind, 
Whom  I  within  this  holy  shade 
With  reverential  care  obeyed.' 

When  Rama  and  his  brother  heard 
The  pious  prayer  the  dame  preferred, 
Filled  full  of  transport  and  amazed 
They  marvelled  as  her  words  they  praised. 
Then  Rama  to  the  votaress  said 
Whose  holy  vows  were  perfected  : 
*  Go,  lady,  where  thou  fain  wouldst  be, 
O  thou  who  well  hast  honoured  me.' 

Her  locks  in  hermit  fashion  tied, 
Oad  in  bark  coat  and  black  deer's  hide, 
When  Rama  gave  consent,  the  dame 
Resigned  her  body  to  the  flame. 
Then,  like  the  fire  that  burns  and  glows, 
To  heaven  the  sainted  lady  rose, 
In  all  her  heavenly  garments  dressed, 
Immortal  wreaths  on  neck  and  breast, 
Bright  with  celestial  gems  she  shone 
Most  beautiful  to  look  upon, 
And  like  the  flame  of  lightning  sent 
A  glory  through  the  firmament. 
That  holy  sphere  the  dame  attained, 
By  depth  of  contemplation  gained, 
Where  roam  high  saints  with  spirits  pure 
In  bliss  that  shall  for  aye  endure. 

CANTO  LXXVI. 


PAMPA. 

When  $avari  had  sought  the  skies 
And  gained  her  splendid  virtue's  prize, 
Rama  with  Lakshman  stayed  to  brood 
O'er  the  strange  scenes  their  eyes  had 

viewed. 

His  mind  upon  those 'saints  was  bent, 
For  power  and  might^'preeininrnt. 
And  he  to  musing  Lakshman  spoke 
The  thoughts  that  iu  hw  bosom  woke  : 


318 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


BooJc  HI 


*  Mine   eyes  this    wondrous   home   have 

viewed 

Of  those  great  saints  with  souls  subdued, 
Where  peaceful  tigers  dwell  and  birds, 
And  deer  abound  in  heedless  herds. 
Our  feet  upon  the  banks  have  stood 
Of  those  seven  lakes  within  the  wood, 
Where  we  have  duly  dipped,  and  paid 
Libations  to  each  royal  shade. 
Forgotten  now  are  thoughts  of  ill 
And  joyful  hopes  my  bosom  fill. 
Again  my  heart  is  light  and  gay 
And  grief  and  care  have  passed  away. 
Come,  brother,  let  us  hasten  where 
Bright  Pampa's  flood  is  fresh  and  fair, 
And  towering  in  their  beauty  near 
Mount  Rishyamuka's  heights  appear, 
Which,  offspring  of  the  Lord  of  Light, 
Still  fearing  Bali's  conquering  might, 
With  four  brave  chiefs  of  Vanar  race 
Sugriva  makes  his  dwelling-place. 
I  long  with  eager  heart  tn  tind 
That  leader  of  the  Vanar  kind, 
For  on  that  chief  my  hopes  depend 
That  this  our  quest  have  prosperous  end.' 

Thus  Rama  spoke,  in  battle  tried, 
And  thus  Sumitra's  son  replied : 
4  Come,  brother,  come,  and  speed  away  : 
My  spirit  brooks  no  more  delay.' 
Thus  spake  Sumitra's  son,  and  then 
Forth  from  the  grove  the  king  of  men 
With  his  dear  brother  by  his  side 
To  Pampa's  lucid  waters  hied. 
He  gazed  upon  the  woods  where  grew 
Trees  rich  in  flowers  of  every  hue. 
From  brake  and  dell  on  every  side 
The  curlew  and  the  peacock  cried, 
And  flocks  of  screaming  parrots  made 
Shrill  music  in  the  bloomy  shade. 
His  eager  eyes,  as  on  he  went, 
On  many  a  pool  and  tree  were  bent. 
Inflamed  with  love  he  journeyed  on 
Till  a  fair  flood  before  him  shone. 
He  stood  upon  the  water's  side 
Which  streams  from  distant  hills  supplied: 
Matanga's  name  that  water  bore  : 
There  bathed  he  from  the  shelving  shore, 
Then,  each  on  earnest  thoughts  intent, 
Still  farther  on  their  way  they  went. 
But  Rama's  heart  once  more  gave  way 
Beneath  his  grief  and  wild  dismay. 
Before  him  lay  the  noble  flood 
Adorned  with  many^a  lotus  bud. 
On  its  fair  banks  Asokas  glowed, 
And  all  bright  trees  their  blossoms  showed. 
Green  banks  that  silver  waves  confined 
With  lovely  groves  were  fringed  and  lined. 
The  crystal  waters  in  their  flow 
Showed  level  sands  that  gleamed  below. 
There  glittering  fish  and  tortoise  played, 
And  bending  trees  gave  pleasant  shade, 


There  creepers  on  the  branches  hung 
With  lover-like  embraces  clung, 
there  gay  Gandharvas  loved  to  meet 
And  Kinnar  sought  the  calm  retreat. 
There  wandering  Yakshas  found  delight, 
Snake-gods  and  rovers  of  the  nipiH. 
Cool  were  the  pleasant  waters,  gay 
Each  tree  with  creeper,  flower,  and  spray. 
There  flushed  the  lotus  darkl/  red, 
Here  their  white  glory  lilies  spread, 
Here  sweet  buds  showed  their  tints  of  blue  : 
So  carpets  gleam  with  many  a  hue. 
A  grove  of  Mangoes  bloyomed  nigh, 
Echoing  with  the  peacock's  cry. 
When  Rama  by  his  brother's  side 
The  lovelv  flood  of  Paznpa  eyed, 
Decked  like  a  beauty,  fair  to  see 
With  every  charm  of  flower  and  tree, 
His  mighty  heart  w/th  woe  was  rent 
And  thus  he  spoke  in  wild  lament : 

'Here,    Lakshman,  on  this  beauteous 

shore, 

Stands,  dyed  with  tints  of  many  an  ore, 
The  mountain  Rishyamuka  bright 
With  flowery  trees  that  crown  each  height. 
Sprung  from  the  chief  who,  famed  of  yore, 
The  name  of  Riksharajas  bore, 
Sugriva,  chieftain  strong  and  dread, 
Dwells  on  that  mountain's  towering  head. 
Go  to  him,  best  of  men,  and  seek 
That  prince  of  Vanars  on  the  peak, 
I  cannot  longer  brook  my  pain, 
Or,  sita  lost,  my  life  retain.' 

Thus  by  the  pangs  of  love  distressed, 
His  thoughts  on  Sita  bent, 

His  faithful  brother  he  addressed, 
And  cried  in  wild  lament. 

He  reached  the  lovely  ground  that  lay 
On  Pampa's  wooded  side, 

And  told  in  anguish  and  dismay, 
The  grief  he  could  not  hide. 

With  listless  footsteps  faint  and  slow 
His  way  the  chief  pursued, 

Till  Pampa  with  her  glorious  show 
Of  flowering  woods  he  viewed. 

Through   shades  were  every  bird  was 

found 
The  prince  with  Lakshman  passed, 

And  Pampa  with  her  groves  around 
Burst  on  his  eyes  at  last. 


Canto  I. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


319 


BOOK  IV.1 


CANTO  I. 


KAMA'S  LAMENT. 

he  princes  stood  by  Pampa's  side2 
"Which  blooming  lilies  glorified. 
With  troubled  heart  and  sense  o'erthrown 
There  Rama  made  his  piteous  moan. 
As  the  fair  flood  before  him  lay 
The  reason  of  the  chief  gave  way  ; 
And  tender  thoughts  within  him  woke, 
As  to  Sumitra's  son  he  spoke  : 

'  How  lovely  Pampas  waters  show, 
Where  streams  of  lucid  crystal  flow ! 
What  glorious  trees  o'erhang  the  flood 
Which  blooms  of  opening  lotus  stud  ! 
Look  on  the  banks  of  Pampa  where 
Thick  groves  extend  divinely  fair  ; 
And  piles  of  trees,  like  hills  in  size, 
Lift  their  proud  summits  to  the  skies. 
But  thought  of  Bharat's3  pain  and  toil, 
And  my  dear  spouse  the  giant's  spoil, 
Afflict  my  tortured  heart  and  press 
My  spirit  down  with  heaviness. 
Still  fair  to  me  though  sunk  in  woe 
Bright  Pampa  and  her  forest  show, 
Where  cool  fresh  waters  charm  the  sight, 
And  flowers  of  every  hue  are  bright. 
The  lotuses  in  close  array 
Their  passing  loveliness  display, 
And  pard  and  tiger,  deer  and  snake 
Haunt  every  glade  and  dell  and  brake. 
Those  grassy  spots  display  the  hue 
Of  topazes  and  sapphires'  blue, 
And.  gay  with  flowers  of  every  dye, 
With  richly  broidered  housings  vie. 
What  loads  of  bloom  the  high  trees  crown, 
Or  weigh  the  bending  branches  down  ! 
And  creepers  tipped  with  bud  and  flower 
Kach  spray  and  loaded  limb  o'erpower. 
Now  cool  delicious  breezes  blow, 
And  kindle  love's  voluptuous  glow, 

1  Or  Kishkindha  Kanda.    Kishkindha, 
the  city  of  Bali  the  elder  brother  and 
enemy  of  Sugriva,   is  supposed   to  have 
been  situated  north  of  Mysore. 

2  Pampa  is  said  by  the  commentator  to 
be  the  name  both  of  a  lake  and   a  brook 
which  flows  into  it.    The  brook  is  said  to 
rise  in  the  hill  Kishyamuka. 

3  Who  was  acting  as  Regent  for  Kama 
and  leading  an  ascetic  life  while  he  mourn- 
ed ior  his  absent  brother. 


When  balmy  sweetness  fills  the  air, 
And  fruit  and  flowers  and  trees  are  fair. 
Those  waving    woods,  that    shine  with 

bloom, 

Each  varied  tint  in  turn  assume. 
Like  labouring  clouds  they    pour  their 

showers 

In  rain  ot  ever-changing  flowers. 
Behold,  those  forest  trees,  that  stand 
High  upon  rock  and  table-land, 
As  the  cool  gales  their  branches  bend, 
Their  floating  blossoms  downward  send. 
See,  Lakshman,  how  the  breezes  play 
With  every  floweret  on  the  spray. 
And  sport  in  merry  guise  with  all 
The  fallen  blooms  and  those  that  fall. 
See,  brother,  where  the  merry  breeze 
Shakes  the  gay  boughs  of  flowery  trees, 
Disturbed  amid  their  toil  a  throng 
Of  bees  pursue  him,  loud  in  song. 
The  Koils,1  mad  with  sweet  delight, 
The  bending  trees  to  dance  invite  ; 
And  in  its  joy  the  wild  wind  sings 
As  from  the  mountain  cave  he  springs. 
On  speed  the  gales  in  rapid  course, 
And  bend  the  woods  beneath  their  force, 
Till  every  branch  and  spray  they  bind 
In  many  a  tangled  knot  entwined. 
What  balmy  sweets  those  gales  dispense 
With  cool  and  sacred  influence  ! 
Fatigue  and  trouble  vanish  :  such 
The  magic  of  their  gentle  touch. 
Hark,  when  the  gale  the  boughs  has  bent 
In  woods  of  honey  redolent, 
Through  all  their  quivering  sprays  the  trees 
Are  vocal  with  the  murmuring  bees. 
The  hills  with  towering  summits  rise, 
And  with  their  beauty  charm  the  eyes, 
Gay  with  the  giant  trees  which  bright 
With  blossom  spring  from  every  height : 
And  as  the  soft  wind  gently  sways 
The  clustering  blooms  that  load  the  sprays, 
The  very  trees  break  forth  and  sing 
With  startled  wild  bees'  murmuring. 
Thine  eyes  to  yonder  Cassias58  turn 
Whose  glorious  clusters  glow  and  burn. 

1  The  Indian  Cuckoo. 

*  The  Cassia  Fistula  or  Amaltas  is  a 
splendid  tree  like  a  giant  laburnum  covered 
with  a  profusion  of  chains  and  tassels  of. 
gold.  Dr.  Roxburgh  well  describes  it  as 
"uncommonly  beautiful  when  in  flower, 
few  trees  surpassing  it  in  the  elegance  of 
its  numerous  long  pendulous  racemes  of 
large  bright-yellow  flowers  intermixed 
with  the  young  lively  green  foliage."  It 
is  remarkable  also  for  its  curi<  us  cylindri- 
cal black  seed-pods  about  two  feet  long, 
which  are  called  monkeys'  walking-sticks. 


320 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  IV. 


Those  trees  in  yellow  robes  behold, 
Like  giants  decked  with  burnished  gold. 
All  me,  Sumitra's  son,  the  spring, 
Dear  to  sweet  birds  who  love  and  sing, 
Wakes  in  my  lonely  breast  the  flame 
Of  sorrow  as  I  mourn  my  dame. 
Love  strikes  me  through  with  darts  of.  fire, 
And  wakes  in  vain  the  sweet  desire. 
Hark,  the  loud  Ko'il  swells  his  throat, 
And  mocks  me  with  his  joyful  note. 
I  hear  the  happy  wild-cock  call 
Beside  the  shady  waterfall. 
His  cry  of  joy  afflicts  my  breast 
By  love's  absorbing  might  possessed. 
My  darling  from  our  cottage  heard 
One  morn  in  spring  this  shrill -toned  bird, 
And  called  me  in  her  joy  to  hear 
The  happy  cry  that  charmed  her  ear. 
See,  birds  of  every  varied  voice 
Around  us  in  the  woods  rejoice, 
On  creeper,  shrub,  and  plant  alight, 
Or  wing  from  tree  to  tree  their  flight. 
Each  bird  his  kindly  mate  has  found, 
And  loud  their  notes  of  triumph  sound, 
Blending  in  sweetest  music  like 
The  distant  warblings  of  the  shrike. 
See  how  the  river  banks  are  lined 
With  birds  of  every  hue  and  kind. 
Here  in  his  joy  the  Ko'il  sings, 
There  the  glad  wild-cock  flaps  his  wings. 
The  blooms  of  bright  Asokas1  where 
The  song  of  wild  bees  fills  the  air, 
And  the  soft  whisper  of  the  boughs 
Increase  my  longing  for  my  spouse. 

1  "The  Jonesia  Asoca  is  a  tree  of  con- 
siderable size,  native  of  southern  India. 
It  blossoms  in  February  and  March  with 
large  erect  compact  clusters  of  flowers, 
varying  in  colour  from  pale-orange  to 
scarlet,  almost  to  be  mistaken,  on  a  hasty 
glance,  for  immense  trusses  of  bloom  of 
an  Ixora.  Mr.  Fortune  considered  this 
tree,  when  in  full  bloom,  superior  in  beauty 
even  to  the  Amherstia. 

The  first  time  I  saw  the  Asoc  in  flower 
was  on  the  hill  where  the  famous  rock-cut 
temple  of  Karli  is  situated,  and  a  large 
concourse  of  natives  had  assembled  for 
the  celebration  of  some  Hindoo  festival. 
Before  proceeding  to  the  temple  the  Mah- 
ratta  women  gathered  from  two  trees, 
which  were  flowering  somewhat  below, 
each  a  fine  truss  of  blossom,  and  inserted 
it  in  the  hair  at  the  back  of  her  head. 

As  they  moved  about  in  groups 

it  is  impossible  to  imagine  a  more  delight- 
ful effect  than  the  rich  scarlet  bunches  of 
flowers  presented  on  their  fine  glossy  jet- 
black  hair."  FIBMINGEK,  Gardening  for 
India. 


The  vernal  flush  of  flower  and  spray 

Will  burn  my  very  soul  away. 

What  use,  what  care  have  I  for  life 

If  I  no  more  mav  see  my  wife, 

Soft  speaker  with  the  glorious  hair, 

And  eyes  with  silken  lashes  fair  ? 

Now  is  the  time  when  all  day  long 

The  Ko'ils  fill  the  woods  with  song, 

And  gardens  bloom  at  spring's  sweet  touch 

Which  my  beloved  loved  so  much. 

Ah  me.  Sumitra's  son,  the  tire 

Of  sorrow,  sprung  from  soft  desire. 

Fanned  by  the  charms  the  spring-time 

shows, 

Will  burn  my  heart  and  end  my  woes, 
Whose  sad  eyes  look  on  each  fair  tree, 
But  my  sweet  love  no  more  may  see. 
Ah  me,  Ah  me,  from  hour  to  hour 
Love  in  my  soul  will  wax  in  power, 
And  spring,  upon  whose  charms  I  gaze, 
Whose  breath  the  heat  of  toil  allays, 
With  thoughts  of  her  for  whom  I  strain 
My  hopeless  eyes,  increase  my  pain. 
As  fire  in  summer  rages  through 
The  forests  thick  with  dry  bamboo, 
So  will  my  fawn-eyed  love  consume 
My  s^ul  o'erwhelmed   with  thoughts  of 

gloom. 

Behold,  beneath  each  spreading  tree 
The  peacoks  dance1  in  frantic  glee, 
And,  stirred  by  all  the  gales  that  blow, 
Their  tails  with  jewelled  windows  glow, 
Each  bird,  in  happy  love  elate, 
Rejoices  with  his  darling  mate. 
But  sights  like  these  of  joy  and  peace 
My  pangs  of  hopeless  love  increase. 
See  on  the  mountain  slope  above 
The  peahen  languishing  with  love. 
Behold  her  now  in  amorous  dance 
Close  to  lier  consort's  side  advance. 
He  with  a  laugh  of  joy  and  pride 
Displays  his  glittering  pinions  wide  ; 
And  follows  through  the  tangled  dell 
The  partner  whom  he  loves  so  well. 
Ah  happy  bird!  no  giant's  hate 
Has  robbed  him  of  his  tender  mate  ; 
And  still  beside  his  loved  one  he 
Dances  beneath  the  shade  in  glee. 
Ah,  in  this  month  when  flowers  are  fair 
My  widowed  woe  is  hard  to  bear. 
See,  gentle  love  a  home  may  find 
In  creatures  of  inferior  kind. 
See  how  the  peahen  turns  to  meet 
Her  consort  now  with  love-drawn  feet. 

1  No  other  word  can  express  the  move- 
ments of  peafowl  under  the  influence  of 
pleasing  excitement,  especially  when  after 
the  long  drought  they  hear  the  welcome 
roar  of  the  thunder  and  feel  that  the  rain 
is  uear, 


Canto  T. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


321 


So,  Lakshman,  if  my  large-eyed  dear, 
The  child  of  janak  still  were  here, 
She,  by  love's  thrilling  influence  led, 
Upon  my  breast  would  lay  her  head. 
These  blooms  I  gathered  from  the  bough 
Without  my  love  are  useless  now. 
A  thousand  blossoms  fair  to  see 
With  passing  glory  clothe  each  tree 
That  hangs  its  cluster-burthened  head 
Now  that  the  dewy  months '  are  fled, 
But,  followed  by  the  bees  that  ply 
Their  fragrant  task,  they  fall  and  die. 
A  thousand  birds  in  wild  delight 
Their  rapture-breathing  notes  unite  ; 
Bird  calls  to  bird  in  joyous  strain, 
And  turns  my  love  to  frenzied  pain. 
O,  if  beneath  those  alien  skies 
There  be  a  spring  where  Sita  lies, 
I  know  my  prisoned  love  must  be 
Touched  with  like  grief,  and  mourn  with 

me, 

But  ah,  methinks  that  dreary  clime 
Knows  not  the  touch  of  spring's  sweet  time. 
How  could  my  black-eyed  love  sustain, 
Without  her  lord,  so  dire  a  pain  ? 
Or  if  the  sweet  spring  come  to  her 
In  distant  lands  a  prisoner, 
How  may  his  advent  aid  her.  met 
On  every  side  with  taunt  and  threat? 
Ah,  if  the  springtide's  languor  came 
With  soft  enchantment  o'er  my  dame, 
My  darling  of  the  lotus  eye, 
"My  gently  speaking  love,  would  die  ; 
For  well  my  spirit  knows  that  she 
Can  never  live  bereft  of  me. 
With  love  that  never  wavered  yet 
My  Sita's  heart  on  me  is  set, 
Who,  with  a  soul  that  ne'er  can  stray, 
With  equal  love  her  love  repay. 
In  vain,  in  vain  the  soft  wind"  brings 
Sweet  blossoms  on  his  balmy  wings  ; 
Delicious  from  his  native  snow, 
To  me  like  fire  he  seems  to  glow. 
O,  how  I  loved  a  breeze  like  this 
When  darling  Sita  shared  the  bliss  ! 
But  now  in  vain  for  me  it  blows 
To  fan  the  fury  of  my  woes. 
That  dark-winged  bird  that  sought  the 

skies 

Foretelling  grief  with  warning  criea, 
Sits  on  the 'tree  where  buds  are  gay, 
And  pours  glad  music  from  the  spray. 
That  rover  of  the  fields  of  air 
Will  aid  my  love  with  friendly  care, 
And  me  with  gracious  pity  guide 


1  The  Dewy  Season  is  one  of  the  six 
ancient  seasons  of  the  Indian  year,  lasting 
from  the  middle  of  January  to  the  middle 
of  March. 


To  my  large-eyed  Videhan's  side.1 
Hark,  Lakshman,  how  the  woods  around 
With  love-inspiring  chants  resound, 
Where  birds  in  every  bloom-crowned  tree 
Pour  forth  their  amorous  minstrelsy. 
As  though  an  eager  gallant  wooed 
A  gentle  maid  by  love  subdued. 
Enamoured  of  her  flowers  the  bee 
Darts  at  the  wind -rocked  Tila  tree.' 
Asoka,  brightest  tree  that  grows, 
That  lends  a  pang  to  lovers'  woes, 
Hangs  out  his  gorgeous  bloom  in  scorn 
And  mocks  me  as  I  weep  forlorn. 
O  Lakshman.  turn  thine  eye  and  see 
Each  blossom -laden  Mango  tree, 
Like  a  young  lover  gaily  dressed 
Whom  fond  desire  forbids  to  rest. 
Look,  son  of  Queen  Sumitra,  through 
The  forest  glades  of  varied  hue, 
Where  blooms  are  bright  and  grass  is  green 
The  Kinnars3  with  their  loves  are  seen. 
See,  brother,  see  where  sweet  and  bright 
Those  crimson  lilies  charm  the  sight, 
And  o'er  the  flood  a  radiance  throw 
Fair  as  the  morning's  roseate  glow. 
See,  Pampa,  most  divinely  sweet, 
The  swan's  and  mallard's  loved  retreat, 
Shows  her  glad  waters  bright  and  clear, 
Where  lotuses  their  heads  uprear 
From  the  pure  wave,  and  charm  the  view 
With  mingled  tints  of  red  and  blue. 
Each  like  the  morning's  early  beams 
Reflected  in  the  crystal,  gleams  ; 
And  bees  on  their  sweet  toil  intent 
Weigh  down  each  tender  filament. 
There  with  gay  lawns  the  wood  recedes  ; 
There  wildfowl  sport  amid  the  reeds. 
There  roedeer  stand  upon  the  brink, 
And  elephants  descend  to  drink. 
The  rippling  waves  which  winds  make  fleei 
Against  the  bending  lilies  beat, 
And  opening  bud  and  flower  and  stem 
Gleam  with  the  drops  that  hang  on  them 
Life  lias  no  pleasure  left  for  me 
While  my  dear  queen  I  may  not  see, 


1  Bam  a  appears  to  mean  that  on  j 
former  occasion  a  crow  flying  high  over 
head  was  an  omen  that  indicated  hi 
approaching  separation  from  Sita  ;  an< 
that  now  the  same  bird's  perching  on  i 
tree  near  him  may  be  regarded  as  : 
happy  augury  that  she  will  soon  be  restor 
ed  to  her  husband. 

*  A  tree  with  beautiful  and  f ragran 
blossoms. 

3  A  race  of  semi-divine  musician 
attached  to  the  service  of  Kuvera,  repre 
sented  as  centaurs  reversed  with  huiua 
figures  and  horses'  heads. 


322 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  IV. 


Who  loved  so  well  those  blooms  that  vie 
With  the  full  splendour  of  her  eye, 
O  tyrant  Love,  who  will  not  let 
My  bosom  for  one  hour  forget 
The  lost  one  whom  I  yearn  to  meet, 
Whose  words  were  ever  kind  and  sweet. 
Ah,  haply  might  my  heart  endure 
This  hopeless  love  that  knows  not  cure, 
If  spring  with  all  his  trees  in  flower 
Assailed  me  not  with  ruthless  power. 
Each  lovely  scene,  each  sound  and  sight 
Wherein,  with  her,  I  found  delight, 
Has  lost  the  charm  so  sweet  of  yore, 
And  glads  my  widowed  heart  no  more. 
On  lotus  buds  I  seem  to  gaze, 
Or  blooms  that  deck  Palasa1  sprays  ; 
But  to  my  tortured  memory  rise 
The  glories  of  my  darling's  eyes. 
Cool  breezes  through  the  forest  stray 
Gathering  odours  on  their  way, 
Enriched  with  all  the  rifled  scent 
Of  lotus  flower  and  filament. 
Their  touch  upon  my  temples  falls 
And  Sita's  fragrant  breath  recalls. 
Now  look,  dear  brother,  on  the  right 
Of  Pampa  towers  a  mountain  height 
Where  fairest  Cassia  trees  unfold 
The  treasures  of  their  burnished  gold. 
Proud  mountain  king  !  his  woody  side 
With  myriad  ores  is  decked  and  dyed, 
And  as  the  wind-swept  blossoms  fall 
Their  fragrant  dust  is  stained  with  all. 
To  yon  high  lands  thy  glances  turn  : 
With  pendent  fire  they  flash  and  burn, 
Where  in  their  vernal  glory  blaze 
Palasa  flowers  on  leafless  sprays. 
O  Lak.shman,  look!  on  Pampa's  side 
What  fair  trees  rise  in  blooming  pride  ! 
What  climbing  plants  above  them  show 

1  Butea  Frondosa.  A  tree  that  bears  a 
profusion  of  brilliant  red  flowers  which 
appear  before  the  leaves. 

I  omit  five  slokas  which  contain  no- 
thing but  a  list  of  trees  for  which,  with 
one  or  two  exceptions,  there  are  no  equi- 
valent names  in  English.  The  following 
is  Gorresio's  translation  of  the  correspond- 
ing passage  in  the  Bengal  recension  :— 

"  Oh  come  risplendono  in  questa  stagi- 
one  di  primavera  i  vitici,  le  galedupe,  le 

bassie,  le  dalbergie,  i  diospyri le 

tile,  le  michelie,  le  rottlerie,  le  pentaptere 
ed  i  pterospermi.  i  bombaci,'le  grislee,  gli 
abri,  gli  amaranti  e  le  dalbergie  ;  i  sirii,  le 
galedupe,  le  barringtonie  ed  i  palmizi,  i 
xanthocymi,  il  pepebetel,  le  verbosine  e  le 
ficaie,  le  naucleele  erythrine,  gli  asochi,  e 
le  tapie  fanno  d'ogni  intorno  pompa  de' 
lor  fiori." 


Or  hang  their  flowery  garlands  low  ! 
See  how  the  amorous  creeper  rings 
The  wind-rocked  trees  to  which  she  clings, 
As  though  a  dame  by  love  impelled 
With  clasping  arms  her  lover  held. 
Drunk  with  the  varied  scents  that  fill 
The  balmy  air,  from  hill  to  hill, 
From  grove  to  grove,  from  tree  to  tree, 
The  joyous  wind  is  wandering  free. 
These  gay  trees  wave  their  branches  bent 
By  blooms,  of  honey  redolent. 
There,  slowly  opening  to  the  day, 
Buds  with  dark  lustre  deck  the  spray. 
The  wild  bee  rests  a  moment  where 
Each  tempting  flower  is  sweet  and  fair, 
Then,  coloured  by  the  pollen  dyes, 
Deep  in  some  odorous  blossom  lies. 
Soon  from  his  couch   away  he  springs  : 
To  other  trees  his  course  he  wings, 
And  tastes  the  honeyed  blooms  that  grow 
Where  Pampa's  lucid  waters  flow, 
See,  Lakshman,  see.  how  thickly  spread 
With  blossoms'  from  the  trees  o'erhead, 
That  grass  the  weary  traveller  woos 
With  couches  of  a  thousand  hues, 
And  beds  on  every  height  arrayed 
With  red  and  yellow  tints  are  laid, 
No  longer  winter  chills  the  earth  : 
A  thousand  flowerets  spring  to  birth, 
And  trees  in  rivalry  assume 
Their  vernal  garb  of  bud  and  bloom. 
How  fair  they  look,  how  bright  and  gay 
With  tasselled  flowers  on  every  spray  ! 
While  each  to  each  proud  challenge  flings 
Borne  in  the  song  the  wild  bee  sings. 
That  mallard  by  the  river  edge 
Has  bathed  amid  the  reeds  and  sedge: 
Now  with  his  mate  he  fondly  plays 
And  fires  my  bosom  as  I  gaze. 

Mandakini1  is  far  renowned  : 
No  lovelier  flood  on  earth  is  found  ; 
But  all  her  fairest  charms  combined 
In  this  sweet  stream  enchant  the  mind, 
O.  if  my  love  were  here  to  look 
With  me  upon  this  lovely  brook, 
Ne'er  for  Ayodhya  would  I  pine, 
Or  wish  that  Indra'8  lot  were  mine. 
If  by  my  darling's  side  I  strayed 
O'er  the  soft  turf  which  decks  the  glade, 
Each  craving  thought  were  sweetly  stilled, 
Each  longing  of  my  soul  fulfilled'. 
But,  now  my  love  is  far  away, 
Those  trees  which  make  the  woods  so  gay, 
In  all  their  varied  beauty  dressed, 
Wake  thoughts  of  anguish  in  my  breast. 

That  lotus-covered  stream  behold 
Whose  waters  run  so  fresh  and  cold, 


1  A  sacred  stream  often  mentioned  in 
the  course  of  the  poem,  See  Book  II. 
Canto  XCV. 


Canto  I. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Sweet  rill,  the  wildfowl's  loved  resort, 
Where  curlew,  swan,  and  diver  sport  ; 
Wherewith  his  consort  plays  the  drake, 
And  tall  deer  love  their  thirst  to  slake, 
While  from  each  woody  bank  is  heard 
The  wild  note  of  each  happy  bird. 
The  music  of  that  joyous  quire 
Fills  all  my  soul  withsoft  desire  ; 
And,  as  I  hear,  my  sad  thoughts  fly 
To  Sita  of  the  lotus  eye, 
Whom,  lovely  with  her  moonbright  cheek, 
In  vain  mine  eager  glances  seek. 
Now  turn,  those  chequered  lawns  survey 
Where  hart  and  hind  together  stray. 
Ah,  as  they  wander  at  their  will 
My  troubled  breast  with  grief  they  fill, 
While  torn  by  hopeless  love  I  sigh 
For  Sita  of  the  fawn-like  eye. 
If  in  those  glades  where,  touched  by  spring, 
Gay  birds  their  amorous  ditties  sing, 
Mine  own  beloved  I  might  see, 
Then,  brother,  it  were  well  with  me  : 
If  by  my  side  she  wandered  still, 
And  this  cool  breeze  that  stirs  the  rill 
Touched  with  its  gentle  breath  the  brows 
Of  mine  own  dear  Videhan  spouse. 
For,  Lakshman,  0  how  blest  are  those 
On  whom  the  breath  of  Fampa  blows, 
Dispelling  all  their  care  and  gloom 
With  sweets  from  where  the  lilies  bloom  ! 
How  can  my  gentle  love  remain 
Alive  amid  the  woe  and  pain, 
Where  prisoned  far  away  she  lies, — 
My  darling  of  the  lotus  eyes  ? 
How  shall  I  dare  her  sire  to  greet 
Whose  lips  have  never  known  deceit? 
How  stand  before  the  childless  king 
And  meet  his  eager  questioning? 
When  banished  by  my  sire's  decree, 
In  low  estate,  she  followed  me. 
So  pure,  so  true  to  every  vow, 
Where  is  my  genile  darling  now? 
How  can  1  bear  my  widowed  lot, 
And  linger  on  where  she  is  not, 
Who  followed  when  from  home  I  fled 
Distracted,  disinherited  ? 
My  spirit  sinks  in  hopeless  pain 
When  ray  fond  glances  yearn  in  vain 
For  that  dear  face  with  whose  bright  eye 
The  worshipped  lotus  scarce  can  vie. 
Ah  when,  my  brother,  shall  I  hear 
That  voice  that  rang  so  soft  and  clear, 
When,  sweetly  smiling  as  she  spoke, 
From  her  dear  lips  gay  laughter  broke  ? 
When  worn  with  toil  and  love  I  strayed 
With  Sita  through  the  forest  shade, 
No  trace  of  grief  was  seen  in  her, 
My  kind  and  thoughtful  comforter. 
How  shall  my  faltering  tongue  relate 
To  Queen  Kausalya  Sita's  fate  ? 
How  answer  when  in  wild  despair 


She  questions,  Where  is  Sita,  where  ? 
Haste,  brother,  haste  :  to  Bharat  hie, 
On  whose  fond  love  1  still  rely. 
My  life  can  be  no  longer  borne, 
Since  Sita  from  my  side  is  torn.' 

Thus  like  a  helpless  mourner,  bent 
By  sorrow,  Rama  made  lament ; 
And  with  wise  counsel  Lakshman  tried 
To  soothe  his  care,  and  thus  replied  : 
'  0  best  of  men,  thy  grief  oppose, 
Nor  sink  beneath  thy  weight  of  woes, 
Not  thus  despond  the  great  and  pure 
And  brave  like  thee,  but  still  endure. 
Reflect  what  anguish  wrings  the  heart 
When  loving  souls  are  forced  to  part; 
And,  mindful  of  the  coming  pain, 
Thy  love  within  thy  breast  restrain, 
For  earth,  though  cooled  by   wanderin 

streams, 

Lies  scorched  beneath  the  midday  beams 
Ravan  his  steps  to  hell  may  bend* 
Or  lower  yet  in  flight  descend  ; 
But  be  thou  sure,  O  Raghu's  son, 
Avenging  death  he  shall  not  shun. 
Riise,  Rama,  rise  :  the  search  begin, 
And  track  the  giant  foul  witii  sin. 
Then  shall  the  fiend,  though  far  he  fly, 
Resign  his  prey  or  surely  die. 
Yea,  though  the  trembling  monster  hide 
With  Sita  close  to  Diti's1  side, 
E'en  there,  unless  he  yield  the  prize, 
Slain  by  this  wrathful  hand  he  dies. 
Thy  heart  with  strength  and  courage  stai 
And  cast  this  weakling  mood  away. 
Our  fainting  hopes  in  vain  revive" 
Unless  with  firm  resolve  we  strive. 
The  zeal  that  fires  the  toiler's  breast 
Mid  earthly  powers  is  first  and  best. 
Zeal  every  check  and  bar  defies, 
And  wins  at  length  the  loftiest  prize, 
In  woe  and  danger,  toil  and  care, 
Zeal  never  yields  to  weak  despair. 
With  zealous  heart  thy  task  begin, 
And  thou  once  more  thy  spouse  shalt  wir 
Cast  fruitless  sorrow  from  thy  soul, 
Nor  let  this  love  thy  heart  control. 
Forget  not  all  thy  sacred  lore, 
But  be  thy  noble  self  once  more.' 

He  heard,  his  bosom  rent  by  grief, 
The  counsel  of  his  brother  chief  ; 
Crushed  in  his  heart  the  maddening  pain 
And  rose  resolved  and  strong  again. 
Then  forth  upon  his  journey  went 
The  hero  on  his  task  intent, 
Nor  thought  of  Fampa's  lovely  brook, 


1  A  daughter  of  Daksh a  who  became  OIK 
of  the  wives  of  Kasyapa  and  mother  o 
the  Daityas.  She  is  termed  the  genera 
mother  of  Titans  and  malignant  beings 
See  Book  I  Cautos  XLV,  XLVI, 


324 


THK  KAMA  TAN. 


vi. 


Or  trees  which  murmuring  breezes  shook, 
Though  on  dark  woods  his  glances  fell, 
On  waterfall  and  cave  and  dell  ; 
And  still  by  many  a  care  distressed 
The  .son  of  Raghu  onward  pressed. 
A*  some  wild  elephant  elate 

Moves  through  the  woods  in  pride, 
So  Lakshman  with  majestic  gait 

Strode  by  his  brother's  side. 
He,  for  his  lofty  spirit  famed, 

Admonisbed  and  consoled  ; 
Showed  Itaghu's  son  what  duty  claimed, 

And  bade,  his  heart  be  bold. 
Then  as  the  brothers  strode  apace 

To  liishyamuka's  height, 
The  .sovereign  of  the  'Viinar  race1 

Was  troubled  at  the  sight. 
As  on  the  lofty  hill  he  strayed 

He  saw  the  chiefs  draw  near  : 
A  while  their  glorious  forms  surveyed, 

And  mused  in  restless  fear. 
His  slow  majestic  step  he  stayed 

And  gazed  upon  the  pair. 
And  all  his  spirit  sank  dismayed 

I'.y  tear  too  great  to  bear. 
When  in  their  glorious  might  the  best 

Of  royal  chiefs  came  nigh, 
The  Vanari  in  their  wild  unrest 

Prepared  to  turn  and  fly. 
They  sought  tin-  hermit's'  sacred  home* 

Kor  peace  and  bliss  ordained, 
And  there,  where  Vanars  loved  to  roam, 

A  sure  asylum  gained. 


CANTO  II. 


SUGRIVA'S  ALARM. 

Sugriva  moved  by  wondering  awe 
The  high-sonled  sons  of   liaghu  saw, 
In  all  their  glorious  arms  arrayed  ; 
And  grief  upon  his  spirit  weighed. 
To  every  quarter  of  the  sky 
He  turned  in  fear  his  anxious  eye, 
And  roving  still  from  spot  to  spot 
With  troubled  steps  he  rested  not. 
He  durst,  not,  as  he  viewed  the  pair, 
Kesolve  to  stand  and  meet  them  there  ; 


1  Sugriva,  the  ex-king  of  the  Vunars, 

foresters,  or  monkeys,  an  exile  from  his 
home,  wandering  about  the  mountain 
Kishyamuka  with  his  four  faithful  ex- 
ministers. 

-  The  hermitage  of  the  Saint  Mntanca 
which  his  curse;  prevented  Bali,  tne 
present  king  of  the  Vanars,  from  entering. 
The  story  is  told  at  length  in  Cauto  XI, 
of  this  liook. 


And  drooping  cheer  and  quailing  breast 
The  tvrror  of  the  chief  confessed. 
While  the  great  fear  his  bosom  shook, 
P.rief  counsel  with  his  lords  he  took  ; 
Kach  gain  and  danger  closely  scanned, 
What  hope  in  flight,  what  power  to  stand. 
While  doubt  and  fear  his  bosom  rent, 
On  Kughu'.s  sons  his  eyes  he  bent, 
And  with  a  spirit  ill  at  ease 
Addressed  his  lords  in  words  like  these  : 

*  Those  chiefs     with    wandering    steps 

invade 

The  shelter  of  our  pathless  shade, 
And  hither  come  in  fair  disguise 
Of  hermit  garb  as  lUili's  spies.' 

Kach  lorn  beheld  with  troubled  heart 
Those  masters  of  the  bowman's  art, 
And  left  the  mountain  side  to  seek 
Sure  refuge  on  a  loftier  peak. 
The  Yan:ir  chief  in  rapid  flight 
Found  shelter  on  a  towering  height, 
And  all  the  hand  with  one  accord 
Were  closely  gathered  round  their  lord. 
Their  course  the  same,  with  desperate  leap 
Kach  made  his  way  from  steep  to  steep, 
And  speeding  on  in  wild  career 
Killed  every  height  with  sudden  fear. 
Kach  heart  was  struck  with  mortal  dread, 
As  on  their  course  the  Vanars  sped, 
While  trees  that  crowned  the   steep  were 

bent 

And  crushed  beneath  them  as  they  went. 
As  in  their  eager  flight  they  pressed 
For  safety  to  each  mountain  crest, 
The  A-ild  confusion  struck  with  fear 
Tiger  and  cat  and  wandering  deer. 
The  lords  who  watched  Sugriva's  will 
\Vere  gathered  on  the  royal  hill, 
And  all  with  reverent  hands  upraised 
Upon  their  king  and  leader  gazed. 
Sugriva  feared  some  evil  planned, 
Some  t-ram'prepared  by  Kali's  hand. 
But,  skilled  in  words  that  charm  and  teach, 
Thus  llanumdn1  began  his  speech  : 

*  Pismiss,  dismiss  thine  idle  fear, 
Nor  dread  the  power  of  Bali  here. 
For  this  is  Malaya's  glorious  hill8 
Where  Bali's  might  can  work  no  ill. 
I  look  around  but  nowhere  see 

The  hated  foe  who  made  thee  flee, 
Fell  Bali,  tierce  in  form  and  face  : 
Then  fear  not,  lord  of  Vanar  race. 
Alas,  in  thee  1  clearly  find 
The  weakness  of  the  Vanar  kind, 


1  Hanuman,  Sugriva's  chief  general, 
was  the  son  of  the  God  of  Wind.  See 
liook  I.  Canto  XVI. 

*  A  range  of  hills  in  Malabar ;  the 
Western  Ghats  iu  the  Deccan. 


Canto  III. 


TllK  RAM  AY  AN. 


325 


That  loves  from  thought  to  thought  to  range, 
Fix  no  belief,  and  welcome  change. 
Mark  well  e;ioh  hint,  ami  -sign,  and  scan, 
Discreet  and  wise,  thine  every  plan. 
How  may  a  king,  with  sense  denied, 
The  subjects  of  his  sceptre  guide'' 

Hanuman,1    wise  in  hour  of  need, 
Urged  on  the  chief  his  prudent  rede. 
His  listening  car  Sugriva  bent, 
And  spake  in  words  more  excellent : 

•  Where  is  the  dauntless  heart  that  free 
From  terror's  chilling  touch  can  see 
Two  stranger  warriors,  strong  as  those, 
Equipped  with  swords  and  shafts  and  hows, 
"With  mighty  arms  and  large  full  eyes, 
Like  glorious  children  of  the  skies  ? 
}»ali  my  foe,  I  ween,  has  sent 
These  chiefs  to  aid  his  dark  intent, 
Hence  doubt  and  fear  disturb  me  still, 
For  thousands  serve  a  monarch's  will. 
In  borrowed  garb  they  come,  and  those 
Who  walkjdisguised  are  counted  foes. 
With  secret  thoughts  they  watch  theirtime, 
And  wound  fond  hearts  that  fear  no  crime. 
My  foe  in  state  affairs. is  wise, 
And  prudent  kings  have  searching  eyes, 
liv  other  bauds  they  strike  the  foe  : 
By  meaner  tools  the  truth  they  know. 
Now  to  those  stranger  warriors  turn, 
And,  less  than  king,  their  purpose  learn. 
M:i.rk  well  the  trick  and  look  of  each  ; 
Observe  his  form  and  note  his  speech. 
With  care  their  mood  and  temper  sound, 
And,  if  their  minds  be  friendly  found, 
With  courteous  looks  and  words  begin 
Their  confidence  and  love  to  win. 
Then  as  my  friend  and  envoy  speak, 
And  question  what  the  strangers  seek. 
Ask  why  equipped  with  shaft  and  bow 
Through  this  wild  maze  of  wood  they  go. 
If  they,  O  chief,  at  first  appesir 
Pure  of  all  guile,  in  heart  sincere, 
Detect  in  speech  and  look  the  sin 
And  treachery  that  lurk  within.' 

lie  spoke  :  the  Wind-God's  son  obeyed. 
With  ready  /eal  be  sought  the  shade, 
And  reached  with  hasty  steps  the  wood 
AVhere  liujjhuVson  and  Lakshman  stood. * 


1  Valmiki  makes  the  second  vowel  in 
this  name  long  or  short  to  suit  the  exi- 
gencies of  the  verse.  Other  Indian  poets 
have  followed  his  example,  and  the  same 
licence  will  be  used  in  this  translation. 

* 1  omit  a  recapitulatory  and  interpolate 
ed  verse  in  a  different  metre,  which  is  as 
follows  : — Reverencing  with  the  words, 
So  be  it,  the  speech  of  the  greatly  terrified 
and  unequalled  monkey  king,  the  magnani- 
mous llanuman  then  went  where  (.stood) 
the  very  mighty  Kama  with  Luksliimin. 


CANTO  III. 


HANUMAN'S  SPEECH, 

The  envoy  in  his  faithful  breast 
Pondered  Sugriva's  high  behest. 
From  Kishvarnuka's  peak  lie  hied 
And  placed  him  by  the  princes'  side. 
The  Wind-Cod's  son  with  cautious  art 
Had  laid  his  Vanar  form  apart, 
And  wore,  to  cheat  the  strangers'  eyes, 
A  wandering  mendicant's  disguise.1 
Before  the  heroes'  feet  he  bent 
And  did  obeisance  reverent, 
And  spoke,  the  glorious  pair  to  praise, 
His  words  of  truth  in  courteous  phrase, 
High  honour  duly  paid,  the  best 
Of  all  the  Vanar  kind  addressed, 
With  free  accord  and  gentle  grace, 
Those  glories  of  their  warrior  race  : 

*O  hermits,  blest  in  vows,  who  shine 
Like  royal  saints  or  Gods  divine, 

0  best  of  young  ascetics,  say 

How  to  this  spot  you  found  your  way, 
Scaring  the  troops  of  wandering  deer 
And  silvan  things  that  harbour  here 
Searching  amid  the  trees  that  grow 
Where  Tampa's  gentle  waters  How, 
And  lending  from  your  brows  a  gleam 
Of  glory  to  the  lovely  stream. 
Who  are  you.  say.  so  brave  and  fair, 
Clad  in  the  bark  which  hermits  wear  ? 

1  see  yon  heave  the  frequent  sigh, 
I  see  the  deer  before  you  fly, 

While  you,  for  strength  and  valour  dread, 
The  earth,  like  lordly  lions,  tread, 
Each  bearing  in  his  hand  a  bow, 
Like  Iiulra's  own,  to  slay  the  foe, 
With  the  grand  paces  of  a  bull, 
So  bright  and  young  and  beautiful. 
The  mighty  arms  you  raise  appear 
Like  trunks  which  elephants  uproar, 
And  as  you  move  this  mountain-king* 
Is  glorious  with  the  light  you  bring. 
How  have  you  reached,  like  Cods  in  face, 
Best  lords  of  earth,  this  lonely  place, 

1  The  semi-divine  Hanuman  possesses 
like  the  Gods  and  demons,  the  power  oi 
wearing  all  shapes  at  will.     He  is  one  oi 
the  Kdmantpu. 

Like  Milton's  good  and  bad  angels 

";IH  they  pleas* 
They  limb  themselves,  and  colour,  shape, 

or  si/e 
Assume  as  likes  them  best,  condens< 

or  rare." 

2  Himalaya  is  of  course  par  exci'llrnci 
the  Monarch  of  mountains,  but  the  com 
piimentary    title    is    frequently    given   t< 
other  hilla  us  here  to  Malaya. 


326 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boolf  III. 


With  tresses  coiled  in  hermit  guise,1 
And  splendours  of  those  lotus  eyes  ? 
As  God's  who  leave  their  heavenly  sphere, 
Alike  your  beauteous  forms  appear. 
The  Lords  of  Day  and  Night2  might  thus 
Stray  from  the  skies  to  visit  us. 
Heroic  youth,  so  broad  of  chest, 
Fair  with  the  beauty  of  the  Blest, 
With  lion  shoulders,  tall  and  strong, 
Like  bulls  who  lead  the  lowing  throng, 
Your  arms,  unmatched  for  grace  and  length, 
With  massive  clubs  may  vie  in  strength. 
Why  do  no  gauds  those  limbs  adorn 
Where  priceless  gems  were  meetly  worn  ? 
Each  noble  youth  is  tit,  I  deem, 
To  guard  this  earth,  as  lord  supreme, 
With  all  her  woods  and  seas,  to  reign 
From  Meru's  peak  to  Vindhya's  chain. 
Your  smooth  bows  decked  with  dyes  and 

gold 

Are  glorious  in  their  masters'  hold, 
And  with  the  arms  of  Indra3  vie 
Which  diamond  splendours  beautify. 
Your  quivers  glow  with  golden  sheen, 
Well  stored  with  arrows  fleet  and  keen, 
Each  gleaming  like  a  fiery  snake 
That  joys  the  f  oeman's  life  to  take. 
As  serpents  cast  their  sloughs  away 
And  all  their  new-born  sheen  display, 
{So  flash  your  mighty  swords  inlaid 
With  burning  gold  on  hilt  and  blade. 
Why  are  you  silent,  heroes  ?    Why 
My  questions  hear  nor  deign  reply  ? 
Sugriva,  lord  of  virtuous  mind. 
The  foremost  of  the  Vanar  kind, 
An  exile  from  his  royal  state, 
Roams  through  the  land  disconsolate. 
I,  Hanuman,  of  Vanar  race. 
Sent  by  the  king  have  sought  this  place, 
For  he,  the  pious,  just,  and  true. 
In  friendly  league  would  join  with  you. 
Know,  godlike  youths,  that  I  am  one 
Of  his  chief  lords,  the  Wind-God's  son. 
With  course  unchecked  I  roam  at  will, 
And  now  from  Rishyamuka's  hill. 
To  please  his  heart,  his  hope  to  speed, 
I  came  disguised  in  beggar's  weed.' 

Thus  Hanuman,  well  trained  in  lore 
Of  language,  spoke,  and  said  no  more. 
The  son  of  Raghu  joyed  to  hear 
The  envoy's  speech,  and  bright  of  cheer 
He  turned  to  Lakshman  by  his  side, 
And  thus  in  words  of  transport  eriod  : 

4  The  counsellor  we  now  behold 
Of  King  Sugriva  righteous-souled. 

1  Twisted  up  in  a  matted  coil  as  was 

the  custom  of  ascetics. 

2  The  sun  and  moon. 

3  The  rainbow, 


His  face  I  long  have  yearned  to  see, 
And  now  his  envoy  comes  to  me. 
With  sweetest  words  in  courteous  phrase 
Answer  this  mighty  lord  who  slays 
His  foemen,  by  Sugriva  sent, 
This  Vanar  chief  most  eloquent. 
For  one  whose  words  so  sweetly  flow 
The  whole  Kig-veda1  needs  must  know, 
And  in  his  well -trained  memory  store 
The  Yajush  and  the  Samau's  lore. 
He  must  have  bent  his  faithful  ear 
All  grammar's  varied  rules  to  hear. 
For  his  long  speech  how  well  he  spoke! 
In  all  its  length  no  rule  he  broke. 
In  eye,  on  brow,  in  all  his  face 
The  keenest  look  no  guile  could  trace, 
No  change  of  hue,  no  pose  of  limb 
Gave  sign  that  aught  was  false  in  him. 
Concise,  unfaltering,  .sweet  and  clear, 
Without  a  word  to  pain  the  ear. 
From  chest  to  throat,  nor  high  nor  low, 
His  accents  came  in  measured  flow. 
How  well  he  -spoke  with  perfect  art 
That  wondrous  speech  that  charmed  the 

heart, 

With  finest  skill  and  order  graced 
In  words  that  knew  nor  pause  nor  haste! 
That  speech,  with  consonants  that  spring 
From  the  three  seats  of  uttering,2 
Would  charm  the  spirit  of  a  foe 
Whose  sword  is  raised  for  mortal  blow, 
How  may  a  ruler's  plan  succeed 
Who  lacks  such  envoy  good  at  need  ? 
How  fail,  if  one  whose  mind  is  stored 
With  gifts  so  rare  assist  his  lord  ? 
What  plans  can  fail,  with  wisest  speech 
Of  envoy's  lips  to  further  each  ?' 

Th  us  Kama  spoke ;  and  Lakshman,  taught 
In  all  the  art  that  utters  thought, 
To  King  JSugriva's  learned  spy 
Thus  made  his  eloquent  reply  : 
4  Full  well  we  know  the  gifts  that  grace 
Sugriva,  lord  of  Vanar  race, 
And  hither  turn  our  wandering  feet 
That  we  that  high-souled  king  may  meet. 
So  now  our  pleasant  task  shall  be 
To  do  the  words  he  speaks  by  thee.' 

His  prudent  speech  the  Vanar  heard, 
And  all  his  heart  with  joy  was  stirred. 
And  hope  that  league  with  them  would 

bring 
Redress  and  triumph  to  his  king. 


1  The  Vedas  are  four  in  number,  the 
Rich  or  Rig-veda,  the  Yajush  or  Yajur 
veda;  the  Saman  or  Sama-veda,  and  the 
Atharvan  or  Atharva-veda.  See  p,  3. 
Note. 

*  The  chest,  the  throat,  and  the  head, 


Canto  IV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


327 


OA3STTO  IV. 


LAKSHMAN'S  REPLY. 

Cheered  by  the  words  that  Rama  spoke, 
Joy  in  the  Vanar's  breast  awoke, 
And.  as  his  friendly  mood  he  knew, 
His  thoughts  to  King  Sugriva  flew  : 
'  Again,'  he  mused,  'my  Mgh-souled  lord 
Shall  rule,  to  kingly  state  restored  ; 
Since  one  «o  mighty  comes  to  save, 
And  freely  gives  the  help  we  crave.' 

Then  joyous  Hanuman,  the  best 
Of  all  the  Vanar  kind,  addressed 
These  words  to  Rama,  trained  of  yore 
Jn  all  the  arts  of  speakers'  lore  :  l 

*  Why  do  your  feet  this  forest  tread 
By  silvan  Ufe  inhabited, 

This  awful  maze  of  tree  and  thorn 
Which  Parapa's  flowering  groves  adorn?' 

He  spoke  :  obedient  to  the  eye 
Of  Rama  Lakshman  made  reply, 
The  name  and  fortune  to  unfold 
Of  Raghu's  son  the  lofty-souled  : 

*  True  to  the  law,  of  fame  unstained, 
The  glorious  Dasaratha  reigned. 
And,  steadfast  in  his  duty,  long 

Kept  the  f  our  castes2f  rom  scathe  and  wrong. 
Through  his  wide  realm  his  will  was  done, 
And,  loved  by  all,  he  hated  none. 
.Just  to  each  creature  great  and  small, 
Like  the  Good  Sire  he  cared  for  all. 
The  Agnishtom,3  as  priests  advised, 


"In  our  own  metrical  romances,  or 
whereyer  a  poem  is  meant  not  for  readers 
but  for  chanters  and  oral  reciters,  these 
formulae,  to  meet  the  same  recurring  case, 
exist  by  scores.  Thus  every  woman  in 
these  metrical  romances  who  happens  to 
beyoumr,  is  described  as  "so  bright  of  ble," 
.or  complexion;  always  a  man  goes  "the 
mountenance  of  a  mile"  before  he  over- 
takes or  is  overtaken.  And  so  on  through 
a  vast  bead-roll  of  cases.  In  the  same 
spirit  Homer  has  his  eternal  rav  Sa* 


or    TOV 

,  &C. 

To  a  reader  of  sensibility,  such  recur- 
rences wear  an  air  of  child-like  simplicity, 
beautifully  recalling  the  features  of 
Homer's  primitive  age.  But  they  would  h  ave 
appeared  faults  to  all  commonplace  critics 
in  literary  ages." 

DE  QuiNCE¥,  Homer  and  the  Homeridce. 
Brahmans  the  sacerdotal  caste.  Ksha- 
triyas  the  royal  and  military,  Vaisyas  the 
mercantile,  and  Sudras  the  servile. 

3  A  protracted  sacrifice  extending:  over 
everal  days.  See  Book  I.  p.  2i  Note, 
22 


And  various  rites  he  solemnized, 

Where  ample  largess  ever  paid 

The  Brahmans  for  their  holy  aid. 

Here  Rama  stands,  his  heir  by  birth, 

Whose  name  is  glorious  in  the  earth  : 

Sure  refuge  he  of  all  oppressed, 

Most  faithful  to  his  sire's  behest. 

He,  Dasaratha's  eldest  born 

Whom  gifts  above  the  rest  adorn, 

Lord  of  each  high  imperial  sign,1 

The  glory  of  his  kingly  line, 

Reft  of  his  right,  expelled  from  home, 

Came  forth  with  me  the  woods  to  roam. 

And  Sit&  too,  his  faithful  dame, 

Forth  with  her  virtuous  husband  came, 

Like  the  sweet  light  when  day  is  done 

Still  cleaving  to  her  lord  the  sun. 

And  me  his  sweet  perfections  drew 

To  follow  as  his  servant  true, 

Named  Lakshman,  brother  of  my  lord 

Of  grateful  heart 'with  knowledge  stored. 

Most  meet  is  he  all  bliss  to  share, 

Who  makes  the  good  of  all  his  care. 

While,  power  and  lordship  cast  away, 

In  the  wild  wood  he  chose  to  stay, 

A  giant  came,— his  name  unknown,— 

And  stole  the  princess  left  alone. 

Then  Diti's  sou2  who,  cursed  of  yore. 

The  semblance  of  a  Rakshas  wore, 

To  King  Sugriva  bade  us  turn 

The  robber's  name  and  home  to  learn, 

For  he,  the  Vanar  chief,  would  know 

The  dwelling  of  our  secret  foe. 

Such  words  of  hope  spake  Diti's  son, 

And  sought  the  heaven  his  deeds  had  won. 

Thou  hast  my  tale.    From  first  to  last 

Thine  ears  have  heard  whate'er  has  past. 

Rama  the  mighty  lord  and  I 

For  refuge  to  Sugriva  fly. 

The  prince  whose  arm  bright  glory  gained, 

O'er  ifche  whole  earth  as  monarch  reigned. 

And  richest  gifts  to  others  gave, 

Is  come  Sugriva's  help  to  crave  ; 

Son  ol  a  king  the  surest  friend 

3f  virtue,  him  who  loved  to  lend 

His  succour  to  the  suffering  weak, 

[s  come  Sugriva's  aid  to  seek. 

Yes,  Raghu's  son  whose  matchless  hand 

Protected  all  this  sea-girt  land, 

The  virtuous  prince,  my  holy  guide, 

For  refuge  seeks  Sugriva's  side. 

His  favour  sent  on  great  and  small 

Should  ever  save  and  prosper  all. 

He  now  to  win  Sugriva's  grace 

Has  sought  his  woodland  dwelling-place. 


1  Possessed  of  all  the  auspicious  personal 
marks  that  indicate  capacity  of  universal 
sovereignty.  See  Book  I.  p.  2,  and  Note  3. 

*  Kabandha.    See     Book     III.    Canto 


328 


TtlE  RAMA  YAN. 


Book  I 


Son  of  a  king  of  glorious  fame  ;•— 
Wlio  knows  not  Dasaratha's  name? — 
From  whom  all  princes  of  the  earth 
Keceived  each  honour  due  to  worth  ; — 
Heir  of  that  best  of  earthly  kings, 
Kama  the  prince  whose  glory  rings 
Through  realms  below  and  earth  and  skies, 
For  refuge  to  fcugriva  flies. 
Nor  should  the  Vanar  king  refuse 
The  boon  for  which  the  suppliant  sues, 
But  with  his  forest  legions  speed 
To  save  him  in  his  utmost  need.' 

Sumitra's  son,  his  eyes  bedewed 
With  piteous  tears,  thus  sighed  and  sued. 
Then,  trained  in  all  the  arts  that  guide 
The  speaker,  Hanuman  replied  : 

'Yea,  lords  like  you  of  wisest  thought, 
Whom  happy  fate  has  hither  brought, 
Who  vanquish  ire  and  rule  each  sense. 
Must  of  our  lord  have  audience. 
Reft  of  his  kingdom,  sad,  forlorn, 
Once  Bali's  hate  now  Bali's  scorn, 
Defeated,  severed  from  his  spouse, 
Wandering  under  forest  boughs, 
Child  of  the  .sun,  our  lord  and  king 
ISugriva  will  his  succours  bring, 
And  all  our  Vanar  hosts  combined 
Will  trace  the  dame  you  long  to  find.' 

With  gentle  tone  and  winning  grace 
Thus  spake  the  chief  of  Vanar  race, 
And  then,  to  Raghu's  son  he  cried  : 
*  Come,  haste  we  to  Sugriva's  side.' 

He  spoke,  and  for  his  words  so  sweet 
Good  Lakshman  paid  all  honour  meet ; 
Then  turned  and  cried  to  Raghu's  sou  : 
'  Now  deem  thy  task  already  done, 
Because  this  chief  of  Vanar  kind, 
Son  of  the  God  who  rules  the  wind, 
Declares  Sugriva's  self  would  be 
Assisted  in  his  need  by  thee. 
Bright  gleams  of  joy  his  cheek  o'erspread 
As  each  glad  word  of  hope  he  said ; 
And  ne'er  will  one  so  valiant  deign 
To  cheer  our  hearts  with  hope  in  vain,' 

He  spoke,  and  Hanuman  the  wise 
Cast  off  his  mendicant  disguise, 
And  took  again  his  Vanar  form, 
Son  of  the  God  of  wind  and  storm. 
High  on  his  ample  back  in  haste 
Kaghu's  heroic  sons  he  placed  ; 
And  turned  with  rapid  steps  to  find 
The  sovereign  of  the  Vanar  kind. 


CANTO  V. 


THE  LEAGUE. 

From  Rishyamuka's  rugged  side 
To  Malaya's  hill  the  Vanar  hied, 


And  to  his  royal  chieftain  there 
Announced  the  coming  of  the  pair  : 
4  See,  here  with  Lakshman  Raina  stands 
Illustrious  in  a  hundred  lands. 
Whose  valiant  heart  will  never  quail 
Al though  a  thousand  foes  assail ; 
King  Dasaratha's  son,  the  grace 
And  glory  of  Ikshvaku's  race. 
Obedient  to  his  father's  will 
He  cleaves  to  sacred  duty  still. 
With  rites  of  royal  pomp  and  pride 
His  sire  the  Fire-God  gratified  ; 
Ten  hundred  thousand  kine  he  freed, 
And  priests  enriched  with  ample  mee 
And  the  broad  land  protected,  famed 
For  truthful  lips  ana  passions  tamed. 
Through  woman's  guile  his  son  has 
His  dwelling  in  the  forest  shade. 
Where,  as  he  lived  with  every  sense 
Subdued  in  hermit  abstinence, 
Fierce  Ravan  stole  his  wife,  and  he 
Is  come  a  suppliant,  lord,  to  thee. 
Now  let  all  honour  due  be  paid 
To  these  great  chiefs  who  seek  thine  ai 

Thus   spake    the    Vanar    prince,    an 

stirred 

With  friendly  thoughts.  Sugriva  heard 
The  light  of  joy  his  face  o'erspread, 
And  thus  to  Baghu's  son  he  said : 
'  O  Prince,  in  rules  of  duty  trained, 
Caring  for  all  with  love  unfeigned, 
Hanuman's  tongue  has  truly  shown 
The  virtues  that  are  thine  alone. 
My  chiefest  glorv,  gain,  and  bliss, 
O  stranger  Prince,  I  reckon  this, 
That  Raghu's  son  will  condescend 
To  seek  the  Vanar  for  his  friend. 
If  thou  my  true  ally  wouldst  be 
Accept  the  pledge  I  offer  thee. 
This  hand  in  sign  of  friendship  take, 
And  bind  the  bond  we  ne'er  will  bre: 

He    spoke,    and   joy    thrilled    Ram! 

breast ; 

Sugriva's  hand  lie  seized  and  pressed? 
And,  transport  beaming  from  his  eye, 
Held  to  his  heart  his  new  ally. 
In  wanderer's  weed  disguised  no  more, 
His  proper  form  Hanuman  wore. 
Then,  wood  with  wood  engendering,1  cai 
Neath  his  deft  hands  the  kindled  flame 
Between  the  chiefs  that  tire  he  placed 


1  Fire  for  sacred  purposes  is  produ( 
by  the  attrition  of  two  pieces  of  wo- 
In  marriage  and  other  solemn  covena 
fire  is  regarded  as  the  holy  witness 
whose  presence  the  agreement  is  nia 
Spenser  in  a  description  of  a  marria 
has  borrowed  from  the  Roman  rite  w 
he  calls  the  housling;  or  sacramental  fi 


Octnto   Vf. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


329 


With  wreaths  of    flowers   and  worship 

graced, 

And  round  its  blazing  glory  went 
The  friends  with  slow  steps  reverent. 

Thus  each  to  other  pledged  and  bound 
In  solemn  league  new  transport  found, 
And  bent  upon  his  dear  ally 
The  gaze  he  ne'er  could  satisfy. 
1  Friend  of  my  soul  art  thou  :  we  share 
Each  other's  joy,  each  other's  care;' 
Tnus  in  the  bliss  that  thrilled  his  breast 
Sugriva  Raghu's  son  addressed. 
From  a  high  Sal  a  branch  he  tore 
Which  many  a  leaf  and  blossom  bore, 
And  the  fine  twigs  beneath  them  laid 
A  seat  for  him  and  Rama  made. 
Then  Hanuman  with  joyous  mind, 
Son  of  the  God  who  rules  the  wind, 
To  Lakshman  gave,  his  seat  to  be, 
The  gay  branch  of  a  Sandal  tree. 
Then  King  Sugriva  with  his  eyes 
8till  trembling  with  the  sweet  surprise 
Of  the  great  joy  he  could  not  hide, 
To  Raghu's  noblest  scion  cried  : 
*  O  Rama,  racked  with  woe  and  fear, 
Spurned  by  my  foes,  I  wander  here. 
Reft  of  my  spouse,  forlorn  I  dwell 
Here  in  my  forest  citadel. 
Or  wild  with  terror  and  distress 
Koain  through  the  distant  wilderness. 
Vext  by  my  brother  Bali  long 
My  soul  has  borne  the  scathe  and  wrong. 
Do  thou,  whose  virtues  all  revere, 
Release  me  from  my  woe  and  fear, 
From  dire  distress  thy  friend  to  free 
Is  a  high  task  and  worthy  thee.' 

He  spoke,  and  Raghu's  son  who  knew 
All  sacred  duties  men  should  do. 
The  friend  of  justice,  void  of  guile, 
Thus  answered  with  a  gentle  smile  : 
'  Great  Vanar,  friends  who  seek  my  aid 
Still  find  their  trust  with  fruit  repaid. 
Bali,  thy  foe,  who  stole  away 
Thy  wife,  this  vengeful  hand  shall  slay. 
These  shafts  which  sunlike  flash  and  burn, 
Winged  with  the  feathers  of  the  hern, 
Each  swift  of  flight  and  sure  and  dread, 
With  even  knot  and  pointed  head, 
Fierce  as  the  crashing  fire-bolt  sent 
By  him  who  rules  the  firmament,1 
Shall  reach  thy  wicked  foe  and  like 

"  His  owne  two  hands  the  holy  knots 

did  knit 

That  none  but  death  for  ever  can  divide. 
His  owne  two   hands,    for  such  a  turn 

rno^t  tit, 

The  housling  fire  did  kindle  and  provide.' 
Faery  Queen,  Book  I.  XII.  37. 
1  Indra. 


Infuriate  serpents  hiss  and  strike. 
Thou,  Vdnar  King,  this  day  shalt  see 
The  foe  who  long  has  injured  thee 
Lie,  like  a  shattered  mountain,  low, 
Slain  by  the  tempest  of  my  bow.' 

Thus  Rama  spake :  Sugriva  heard, 
And  mighty  joy  his  bosom  stirred  : 
As  thus  his  champion  he  addressed  : 
'  Now  by. thy  favour,  first  and  best 
Of  heroes,  shall  thy  friend  obtain. 
His  realm  and  darling  wife  again 

Recovered  from  the  foe. 
Check  thou  mine  elder  brother's  might, 
That  ne'er  again  his  deadly  spite 
May  rob  me  of  mine  ancient  right, 

Or  vex  my  soul  with  woe.' 
The  league  was  struck,  a  league  to  bring 
To  Sita  fiends,  and  Vanar  king1 

Apportioned  bliss  and  bale. 
Through    her  left  eye  quick  throbbinga 

shot,2 
Glad  signs  the  lady  doubted  not. 

That  told  their  hopeful  tale. 
The  bright  left  eye  of  Bali  felt 
An  inauspicious  throb  that  dealt 

A  deadlv  blow  that  day. 
The  fiery  left  eyes  of  the  crew' 
Of  demons  felt  the  throb,  and  knew 

The  herald  of  dismay. 


CANTO  VI. 


THE   TOKENS. 

With  joy  that  sprang  from  hope  restored 
To  Rama  spake  the  Vanar  lord  : 
4  I  know,  by  wise  Hanuman  taught, 
Why  thou  the  lonely  wood  hast  sought. 
Where  with  thy  brother  Lakshman  thou 
Hast  sojourned,  bound  by  hermit  vow  ; 
Have  heard  how  Sita,  Janak's  child, 
Was  stolen  in  the  pathless  wild, 
How  by  a  roving  Rakshas  she 
Weeping  was  reft  from  him  and  thee  ; 
How,  bent  on  death,  the  gaint  slew 
The  vulture  king,  her  guardian  true, 
And  gave  thy  widowed  breast  to  know 
A  solitary  mourner's  woe. 
But  soon,  dear  Prince,  thy  heart  shall  be 
From  every  trace  of  sorrow  free  ; 

1  Bali  the  king  de  facto. 

*  With  the  Indians,  as  with  the  ancient; 
Greeks,  the  throbbing  of  the  right  eye  in 
a  man  is  an  auspicious  sign,  the  throbbing 
of  the  left  eye  is  the  opposite.  In  a  womari. 
the  significations  of  signs  are  reversed. 

On  the  alliance  between  Rama  and  the 
monkeys,  see  ADDITIONAL  NOTES, 


830 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  IV. 


For  I  thy  darling  will  restore, 
Lost  like  the  prize  of  holy  lore.1 
Yea,  though  in  heaven  the  lady  dwell, 
Or  prisoned  in  the  depths  of  hell, 
My  friendly  care  her  way  shall  track 
And  bring  thy  ransomed  darling  back. 
Jjet  this  my  promise  soothe  tfyy  care, 
JNor  doubt  the  words  I  truly  swear. 
Saints,  fiends,  and  dwellers  of  the  skies 
Shall  find  thy  wife  a  bitter  prize, 
Like  the  rash  child  who  rues  too  late 
Thy  treacherous  lure  of  poisoned  eate. 
No  longer,  Prince,  thy  loss  deplore  ; 
Thy  darling  wife  will  I  restore. 
'Twas  she  I  saw  :  my  heart  infers 
That  shrinking  form  was  doubtless  hers, 
Which  gaint  Ravan,  fierce  and  dread, 
Bore  swiftly  through  the  clouds  o'erhead 
Still  writhing  in  his  strict  embrace 
Like  helpless  aueen  oft  serpent  race,? 
An*}  from  her  tips  that  sad  voice  came 
Styriejdngthineown  and  Lakshman/s  name. 
High  on  a  hill  she  saw  me  stand  ' 
With  comrades  twain  on  either  hand. 
Her  outer  robe  to  earth  she  threw, 
And  with  it  sent  her  anklets  too. 
We  saw  the  glittering  tokens  fall, 
We  found  them  there  and  kept  them  all. 
These  will  I  bring  :  perchance  thine  eyes 
The  treasured  spoils  will  recognze.' 

He  ceasec}  ;  then  I^agr^u's  son  replied 
To  the  glad  tale,  and  eager  cried  : 
'Bring  them  with  all  thy  speed  :  delay 
^No  more,  dear  friend,  but  haste  away.' 

Thus  Rama  spoke.     Sugriva  hied 
Within  the  mountain's  caverne4  sfde, 
Impelled  by  Ipve  that  stirred  each  thought 
The  precious  tokens  quickly  brought, 

1  TheVedae  stolen  by  the  demons  Madhu 
and  Kaitabha. 

•  The  text  has  3fT^f  ite^fajT  which  sig- 
nifies literally  "  the  lost  vedic  tradition." 
Jt  seems  that  allusion  is  here  made  to  the 
Vedas  submerged  in  the  depth  of  the  sea, 
but  promptly  recovered  by  Vishnu  in  one 
of  his  incarnation,  as  the  brah manic  legend 
relates,  with  which  the  ordhodoxy  of  the 
Brahmans  intended  perhaps  to  allude  to 
the  prompt  restoration  and  uninterrupte.d 
continuity  of  ttye  ancient  vedic  tradition." 
GORRESIO. 

2  Like  tl^e  wife  of  a  Naga  or  Serpent- 
God  curried  off  by  an  eagle.    The  enmity 
between  the  King  of  bir4saud  the  serpent 
js  of  very  f reguent  occurrence.     It   seems 
to  be  a  modification  of  the  strife  between 
the  Vedic   Indra  and  the  Ahi,  the  serpent 
or  drought-fiend  ;  between  Apollon,   and 
the  Python,  Adam  and  the  Serpent, 


And  said  to  Rn  gnu's  son.  Behold 
This  garment  and  these  rings  of  gold. 
In  Rama's  hand  with  friendly  haste 
The  jewels  and  the  robe  he  placed. 
Then,  like  the  moon  by  mist  assailed, 
The  tear-dimmed  eyes  of  Rama  failed  ; 
That  burst  of  woe  unmanned  liis  frame, 
Woe  sprung  from  passion  for  his  dame, 
And  with  his  manly  strength  o'erthrown, 
He  fell  and  cried,  Ah  me  !  mine  own  ! 
Again,  again  close  to  his  breast 
The  ornaments  an$  robe  he  pressed, 
While  the  quick  pants  that  shook  his  frame 
As  from  a  furious  serpent  came. 
On  his  dear  brother  standing  nigh 
JHe  turned  at  length  his  piteous  eye  ; 
And,  while  his  tears  increasing  ran, 
In  bitter  wail  he  thus  be^an  : 
'Look,  brothei-,  and  behold  once  more 
The  ornaments  and  robp  she  wore, 
Dropped  while  tjie  giant  bore  away 
In  cruel  arms  his  struggling  prey, 
Dropped  in  some  quiet  spot,  I  ween, 
Where  the  young  grass  was  soft  and  green 
For  still  untouched  by  spot  or  stain 
Their  former  beauty  all  retain.' 

He  spoke  with  m^ny  a  tear  and  sigh, 
And  thus  his  brother  made  reply  : 
'The  bracelets  thou  hast  fondly  shown, 
And  earrings,  are  to  me  unknown, 
But  by  long  service  taught  I  greet 
The  anklets  of  her  honoured  feet.' 

Then  to  Sugriva  Rama,  best 
Of  Raghu's  sons,  these  worcjs  addressed 

'  Say  to  what  quarter  of  the  sky 
The  cruel  fiend  was  seen  t-6  fly, 
Bearing  afar  my  captured  wife, 
My  darling  dearer  than  my  life. 
Speak,  Vanar  King,  ttyat  I  may  know 
Where  dwells  the  cause  of  all  my  woe  ; 
Th3  fiend  for  whose  transgression  all 
The  giants  by  this  hand  shall  fall. 
He  who  the  fylaithil  lady  stole 
And  kindled  fury  in  my  soul, 
JIas  sought  his  fate  in  senseless  pride 
And  opened  Death's  dark  portal  wid 
Then  tell  me,  Vanar  lord,  I  pray, 

The  dwelling  of  my  foe, 
And  he,  beneath  this  hand,  to-day 

To  Yama's  halls  shall  go.' 


1  He  means  that  he  has  never   ven 
to  raise  his  eyes  to   her  arms  and 
though  he   has   ever   been    her   4evot< 
servant* 


Canto    VI J I. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


331 


CANTO  VII. 


KAMA  CONSOLED. 

With  Ibriging  love  arid  woe  oppressed 
•the  Variar  c'hief  he  thus  addressed  : 
And  he,  while  sobs  his  tltterartce  broke, 
Raised  up  his  reverent  hands  arid  spoke  : 

4  O  Raghu's  son,  I  cannot  tell 
Where  riow  that  cruel  fiend  may  dwell, 
Declare  his  power  arid  might,  or  trace 
The  author  of  his  cursed  race. 
Still  trust  the  promise  that  I  make 
And  let  thy  breast  no  longer  ache. 
So  will  I  toil,  nor  toil  in  vain, 
That  thou  thy  consort  may st  regain. 
So  will  I  work  with  might  and  skill 
That  joy  anew  thy  heart  shall  fill : 
The  valour  of  iriy  soul  display, 
And  Kavari  and  his  le'giofls  slay. 
Awake,  aw'ake !  unmanned  no  more 
Recall  the  strength  was  thine  of  yore. 
Beseems  not  men  like  thee  to  wear 
A  weak  heart  yielding  to  despair. 
Like  troubles,  too,  mine  eyes  nave  seen, 
Lamenting  for  a  long- lost  queen  ; 
But,  by  despair  unconquered  yet, 
My  strength  of  mind  I  ne'er  forget. 
Far  more  shouldst  thou  of  lofty  soul 
Thy  passion  arid  thy  tears  control, 
When  I,  of  Vanar's  humbler  strain, 
Weep  not  for  her  in  ceaseless  pain. 
Be  firm,  be  patient,  nor  forget 
The  bounds  the  brave  of  heart  have  set 
In  loss,  in  woe,  in  strife,  in  fear, 
When  the  dark  hour  of  death  is  near. 
Up  ?  with  thine  own  brave  heart  advise  : 
Not  thus  despond  the  firm  and  wise. 
But  he  who  gives  his  childish  heart 
To  choose  the  coward's  wefakling  part, 
Sinks,  like  a  foundered  vessel,  deep 
In  waves  of  woe  that  o'er  him  sweep. 
See,  suppliant  hand  to  hand  I  lay, 
And,  moved  by  faithful  love,  I  pray. 
Give  way  no  more  to  grief  and  gloom, 
But  all  thy  native  strength  resume. 
No  joy  on  earth,  I  ween,  have  they 
Who  yield  their  souls  to  sorrow's  sway. 
Their  glory  fades  in  slow  decline  : 
'Tis  not  for  thee  to  grieve  and  pine. 
I  do  but  hint  with  friendly  speech 
The  wiser  part  I  dare  not  teach. 
This  better  path,  dear  friend,  pursue, 
And  let  not  grief  thy  soul  subdue.' 

Sugriva  thus  with  gentle  art 
And  sweet  words  soothed  the  mourner's 

heart, 

Who  brushed  off  with  his  mantle's  hem 
Tears  from  the  eyes  bedewed  with  them, 


Sugriva's  words  were  not  in  vain, 
And  Rama  was  himself  again  ; 
Around  the  king  his  arms  he  threw, 
And  thus  began  his  speech  anew  : 

*  Whate'er  a  friend  most  wise  and  true, 
Who  counsels  for  the  best,  should  do, 
Whate'er  his  gentle  part  should  be, 
Has  been  performed,  dear  friend,  by  thee. 
Taught  by  thy  counsel,  O  my  lord, 
I  feel  my  native  strength  restored. 
A  friend  like  thee  is.  hard  to  gain, 
Most  rare  in  time  of  grief  and  pain. 
Now  strain  thine  utmost  power  to  trace 
The  Majthil  lady's  dwelling  plade, 
And  aid  rile  in  my  search  to  find 
Fierce  JElavan  of  the  impious  mind; 
Trust  thou,  in  turn*  thy  loyal  friend, 
And  say  what  aid  this  arm  can  lend 
To  speed  thy  hopes,  as  fostering  rain 
Quickens  in  earth  the  scattered  grain. 
Deem  not  those  words,  that  seemed  to 

spring 

From  pride,  are  false,  O  Vanar  King. 
None  from  these  lips  has  ever  heard, 
None  e'er  shall  hear,  one  lying  word. 
Again  I  promise  and  declare, 
Yea,  by  my  truth,  dear  friend,  I  swear.* 
Then  glad  was  King  Sugriva's  breast, 
And  all  his  lords  their  joy  confessed, 
Stirred  by  sure  hope  of  Rama's  aid, 
And  promise  which  the  prince  had  made. 

CANTO  VIII. 


RA'MA'S  PROMISE. 

Doubt  from  Sugriva's  heart  had  fled, 
And  thus  to  Raghu's  son  he  said  : 
4  No  bliss  the  Gods  of  heaven  deny. 
Each  views  me  with  a  favouring  eye. 
When  thou,  whom  all  good  gifts  attend, 
Hast  sought  me  and  become  my  friend. 
Leagued,  friend,  with  thee  in  bold  emprise 
My  arm  might  win  the  conquered  skies; 
And  shall  our  banded  strength  be  weak 
To  gain  the  realm  which  now  I  seek  ? 
A  happy  fate  was  mine  above 
My  kith  and  kin  and  all  I  love. 
When,  near  the  witness  fire,  I  won 
Thy  friendship,  Raghu's  glorious  son. 
Thou  too  in  ripening  time  shalt  see 
Thy  friend  not  all  unworthy  thee. 
What  gifts  I  have  shall  thus  be  shown  : 
Not  mine  the  tongue  to  make  them  known, 
Strong  is  the  changeless  bond  that  binds 
The  friendly  faith  of  noble  minds. 
In  woe.  in  danger,  firm  and  sure 
Their  constancy  and  love  endure. 
Gold,  silver,  jewels  rich  and  rare 
They  count  as  wealth  for  friends  to  share, 


332 


THE  RAM  AY  AN, 


£ooJc  IV. 


Yea.  be  they  rich  or  poor  and  low, 
.blest  with  all  joys  or  sunk  in  woe, 
Stained  with  each  fault  or  pure  of  blame, 
Their  friends  the  nearest  pi  ace  may  claim  ; 
For  whom  they  leave  at  friendship's  call, 
Their  gold,  their  bliss,  their  homes  and  all. 

He  spoke  by  generous  impulse  moved, 
And  Raghu's  son  his  speech  approved, 
Glancing  at  Lakshman  by  his  side, 
Like  Indra  in  his  beauty's  pride. 
The  Vanar  monarch  saw  the  pair 
Of  mighty  brothers  standing  there, 
And  turned  his  rapid  eye  to  view 
The  forest  trees  that  near  him  grew. 
He  saw,  not  far  from  where  he  stood, 
A  Sal  tree  towering  o'er  the  wood. 
Amid  the  thick  leaves  many  a  bee 
Graced  the  scant  blossoms  of  the  tree, 
From  whose  dark  shade  a  bough,  that  bore 
A  load  of  leafy  twigs,  he  tore, 
Which  on  the  grassy  ground  he  laid 
And  seats  for  him  and  Rama  made. 
Hanuman  saw  them  sit.  he  sought 
A  Sal  tree's  leafy  bough  and  brought 
The  burthen,  and  with  meek  request 
Entreated  Lakshman,  too,  to  rest. 
There  on  the  noble  mountain's  brow, 
Strewn  with  the  young  leaves  of  the  bough, 
Sat  Raghu's  son  in  placid  ease 
Calm  as  the  sea  when  sleeps  the  breeze. 
Sugriva's  heart  with  rapture  swelled, 
And  thus,  by  eager  love  impelled, 
He  spoke  in  gracious  tone,  that,  oft 
Checked  by  his  joy,  was  low  and  soft : 
'  I,  by  my  brother's  might  oppressed, 
By  ceaseless  woe  and  fear  distressed, 
jMourning  my  consort  faraway, 
On  Rishyamuka's  mountain  stray. 
Expelled  by  Bali's  cruel  hate 
I  wander  here  disconsolate. 
Do  thou  to  whom  all  sufferers  flee, 
From  his  dread  hand  deliver  me.' 

He  spoke,  and  Rama,  just  and  brave, 
Whose  pious  soul  to  virtue  clave, 
Smiled  as  in  conscious  might  he  eyed 
The  king  of  Vanars,  and  replied  : 
*  Best  fruit  of  friendship  is  the  deed 
That  helps  the  friend  in  hour  of  need; 
And  this  mine  arm  in  death  shall  lay 
Thy  robber  ere  the  close  of  day. 
For  see,  these  feathered  darts  of  mine 
Whose  points  so  fiercely  flash  and  shine, 
And  shafts  with  golden  emblem,  came 
From  dark  woods  known  by    Skanda's 
name,1 

1  The  wood  in  which  Skanda  or  Karti- 
keya  was  brought  up  : 

*  The  Warrior-God 

Whose  infant  steps  amid    the   thickets 
strayed 


Winged  from  the  pinion  of  the  hern 
Like  Indra's  bolts  they  strike  and  burn. 
With  even  knots  and  piercing  head 
Each  like  a  furious  snake  is  sped ; 
With  these,  to-day,  before  thine  eye 
Shall,  like  a  shattered  mountain,  lie 
Bali,  thy  dread  and  wicked  foe, 
O'erwhelmed  in  hideous  overthrew.' 

He  spoke  :  Sugriva's  bosom  swelled 
With  hope  and  joy  unparalleled, 
Then  his  glad  voice  the  Vanar  raised, 
And  thus  the  son  of  Raghu  praised  : 
*  Long  have  I  pined  in  depth  of  grief  ; 
Thou  art  the  hope  of  all,  O  chief. 
Now,  Raghu's  son,  I  hail  thee  friend, 
And  bid  thee  to  my  woes  attend  ; 
For,  by  my  truth  1  swear  it,  now 
Not  life  itself  is  dear  as  thou, 
Since  by  the  witness  fire  we  met 
And  friendly  hand  in  hand  was  set. 
Friend   communes  now  with  friend, 

hence 

I  tell  with  surest  confidence. 
How  woes  that  on  my  spirit  weigh 
Consume  me  through  the  night  and  day 

For  sobs  and  sighs  he  scarce  could  spea 
And  his  sad  voice  came  low  and  weak, 
As,  while  his  eyes  with  tears  o'erflowed, 
i  he  burden  of  his  soul  he  showed. 
Then  by  strong  effort,  bravely  made, 
The  torrent  of  his  tears  he  staved, 
Wiped  his  bright  eyes,  his  grief  subdue 
And  thus,  more  calm,  his  speech  renewe 

4  By  Bali's  conquering  might  oppresses 
Of  power  and  kingship  dispossessed, 
Loaded  with  taunts  of  scorn  and  hate 
I  left  my  realm  and  royal  state. 
He  tore  away  my  consort :  she 
Was  dearer  than  my  life  to  me, 
And  many  a  friend  to  me  and  mine 
In  hopeless  chains  was  doomed  to  pine. 
With  wicked  thoughts,  unsated  still, 
Me  whom  he  wrongs  he  yearns  to  kill ; 
And  spies  of  Vanar  race,  who  tried 
To  slay  me,  by  this  hand  have  died. 
Moved  by  this  constant  doubt  and  fear 
I  saw  thee,  Prince,  and  came  not  near. 
When  woe  and  peril  gather  round 
A  foe  in  every  form  is  found. 
Save  Hanuman,  0  Raghu's  son, 
And  these,  no  friend  is  left  me,  none. 
Through  their  kind  aid,  a  faithful  band 
Who  guard  their  lord  from  hostile  hand 
Rest  when  their  chieftain  rests  and  bein 
Their  steps  where'er  he  lists  to  wend, — 
Through  them  alone,  in  toil  and  pain, 
My  wretched  life  I  still  sustain. 

Where  the  reeds  wave  over  the  holy  sod.' 
See  also  Book  I.  Canto  XXIX. 

Meghaduta, 


Canto  IX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


333 


Enough,  for  thou  hast  heard  in  brief 
The  story  of  my  pain  and  grief. 
His  mighty  strength  all  regions  know, 
My  brother,  but  my  deadly  foe. 
Ah,  if  the  proud  oppressor  fell, 
His  death  would  all  my  woe  dispel. 
Yea,  on  my  cruel  conqueror's  fall 
My  joy  depends,  my  life,  my  all. 
This  were  the  end  and  sure  relief, 
O  Rama,  of  my  tale  of  grief. 
Fair  be  his  lot  or  dark  with  woe, 
No  comfort  like  a  friend  I  know.' 

Then  Rama  spoke  ;  '  0  friend,  relate 
Whence  sprang  fraternal  strife  and  hate, 
That  duly  taught  by  thee,  I  may 
Each    foeman's    strength    and   weakness 

weigh  : 

And  skilled  in  every  chance  restore 
The  blissful  state  thou  hadst  before. 
For,  when  I  think  of  all  the  scorn 
And  bitter  woe  thou  long  hast  borne, 
My  soul  indignant  swells  with  pain 
Like  waters  flushed  with  furious  rain. 
Then,  ere  I  string  this  bended  bow, 
Tell  me  the  tale  I  long  to  know, 
Ere  from  the  cord  my  arrow  fly, 
And  low  in  death  thy  foeman  lie.' 

He  spoke  :  Sugriva  joyed  to  hear, 
Nor  less  his  lords  were  glad  of  cheer  : 
And  thus  to  Kama  mighty-souled 
The  cauae  that  moved  their  strife  he  told  •. 


CANTO  IX. 


,      SUGRIVA'S  STORY. i 

'My  brother,  known  by  Bali's  name, 
Had  won  by  might  a  conqueror's  fame. 
My  father's  eldest- born  was  he, 
Well  honoured  by  his  sire  and  rne. 
My  father  died,  and  each  sage  lord 
Named  Bali  king  with  one  accord  ; 
And  he,  by  right  of  birth  ordained, 
The  sovereign  of  the  Vanars  reigned. 
He  in  his  royal  place  controlled 
The  kingdom  of  our  sires  of  old, 
And  I  all  faithful  service  lent 
To  aid  my  brother's  government. 
The  fiend'  Ma vavi,— him  of  yore 
To  Dunclubhi2  his  mother  bore,— 

1  "  Sugriva's  story  paints  in  vivid  colours 
the  manners,  customs  and  ideas  of  the 
wild    mountain    tribes    which    inhabited 
Kishkindhya  or  the  southern  hills  of  the 
Deccan,  of   the  people  whom  the   poem 
calls  monkeys,  tribes  altogether  different 
in  origin  and  civilization  from  the  Indo- 
Sanskrit  race."    GOKRESIO. 

2  A.  fiend  slain  by  Billi, 


For  woman's  love  in  strife  engaged, 
A  deadly  war  with  Bali  waged. 
When  sleep  had  chained  each  weary  frame 
To  vast  Kishkindha's1  gates  he  came. 
And,  shouting  through  the  shades  of  night, 
Challenged  his  foeman  to  the  tight. 
My  brother  heard  the  furious  shout, 
And  wild  with  rage  rushed  madly  out, 
Though  fain  would  I  and  each  sad  wife 
Petain  him  from  the  deadly  strife. 
He  burned  his  demon  foe  to  slay, 
And  rushed  impetuous  to  the  fray. 
His  weeping  wives  he  thrust  aside, 
And  forth,  impelled  by  fury,  hied  ; 
While,  by  my  love  and  duty  led, 
I  followed  where  my  brother  sped. 
Mayavi  looked,  and  at  the  sight 
Fled  from  his  foes  in  wild  affright. 
The  flying  fiend  we  quickly  viewed. 
And  with  swift  feet  his  steps  pursued. 
Then  rose  the  moon,  whose  friendly  ray 
Cast  light  upon  our  headlong  way. 
By  the  soft  beams  was  dimly  shown 
A  mighty  cave  with  grass  o'ergrown. 
Within  its  depths  he  sprang,  and  we 
The  demon's  form  no  more  might  see. 
My  brother's  breast  was  all  aglow 
With  fury  when  he  missed  the  foe, 
And,  turning,  thus  to  me  he  said 
With  senses  all  disquieted  : 
'  Here  by  the  cavern's  mouth  remain  ; 
Keep  ear  and  eye  upon  the  strain, 
While  I  the  dark  recess  explore 
And  dip  my  brand  in  foeman' s  gore,' 
1  heard  his  angry  speech,  and  tried 
To  turn  him  from  his  plan  aside. 
He  made  me  swear  by  both  his  feet, 
And  sped  within  the  dark  retreat. 
While  in  the  cave  he  stayed,  and  I 
Watched  at  the  mouth,  a  year  went  by. 
For  his  return  I  looked  in  vain, 
And,  moved  by  love,  believed  him  slain. 
I  mourned,  by  doubt  and  fear  distressed, 
And  greater  horror  seized  my  breast 
When  from  the  cavern  rolled  a  flood, 
A  carnage  stream  of  froth  and  blood  ; 
And  from  the  depths  a  sound  of  fear, 
The  roar  of  demons,  smote  mine  ear  ; 
But  never  rang  my  brothers  shout 
Triumphant  in  the  battle  rout. 
I  closed  the  cavern  with  a  block, 
Huge  as  a  hill,  of  shattered  rock, 
Gave  offerings  due  to  Bali's  shade, 
And  sought  Kishkindha,  sore  dismayed. 
Long  time  with  anxious  care  I  tried 
From  Bali's  lords  his  fate  to  hide, 
But  they,  when  once  the  tale  was  known, 
Placed  me  as  king  on  Bali's  throne. 
There  for  a  while  I  justly  reigned 

1  Bali's  mountain  city, 


334 


TtlE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Sool  IV. 


And  all  with  equal  care  ordained, 

When  joyous  from  the  demon  slain 

My  brother  Bali  came  again. 

He  found  me  ruling  in  his  stead, 

And,  tired  with  rage,  his  eyes  grew  red. 

He  slew  the  lords  who  made  me  king, 

And  spoke  keen  words  to  taunt  and  sting. 

The  kingly  rank  and  power  I  held 

My  brother's  rage  with  ease  had  quelled, 

But  still,  restrained  by  old  respect 

For  claims  of  birth,  the  thought  I  checked. 

Thus  having  struck  the  demon  down 

Came  Bali  to  his  royal  town. 

With  meek  respect,  with  humble  speech, 

His  haughty  heart  I  strove  to  reach. 

But  all  my  arts  were  tried  in  vain, 

!No  gentle  word  his  lips  would  deign. 

Though  to  the  ground  I  bent  and  set 

His  feet  upon  my  coronet ; 

Still  Bali  in  his  rage  and  pride 

All  signs  of  grace  and  love  denied.' 


CANTO  X. 


SUGRITA'S  STORY. 

'  I  strove  to  soothe  and  lull  to  rest 

The  fury  of  his  troubled  breast : 

*  Well  art  thou  come,  dear  lord,'  I  cried, 

'By  whose  strong  arm  thy  foe  has  died. 

Forlorn  1  languished  here,  but  now 

My  saviour  and  defence  art  thou. 

Once  more  receive  this  regal  shade1 

Like  the  full  moon  in  heaven  displayed  ; 

And  let  the  chouries,*  thus  restored, 

Wave  glorious  o'er  the  rightful  lord. 

I  kept  my  watch,  thy  word  obeyed, 

And  by  the  cave  a  year  I  stayed. 

But  when  I  saw  that  stream  of  blood 

Kush  from  the  cavern  in  a  flood, 

My  sad  heart  broken  with  dismay, 

And  every  wandering  sense  astray, 

I  barred  the  entrance  with  a  stone, — 

A  crag  from  some  high  mountain  thrown — 

Turned  from  the  spot  I  watched  in  vain, 

And  to  Kishkindha  came  again. 

My  deep  distress  and  downcast  mien 

By  citizen  and  lord  were  seen. 

They  made  me  king  against  my  will : 

Forgive  me  if  the  deed  was  ill, 

True  as  I  ever  was  I  see 

My  honoured  king  once  more  in  thee  ; 

J  only  ruled  a  while  the  state 

When  thou  hadst  left  us  desolate. 


1  The  canopy  or  royal  umbrella,  one  of 
the  usual  Indian  regalia. 

2  Whisks  made  of  the  hair  of  the  Yak 
or  Bos  grunniers,  also  regal  insignia. 


This  town  with  people,  lords,  and  lands, 
Lay  as  a  trust  in  guardian  hands  ; 
And  now,  my  gracious  lord,  accept 
The  kingdom  which  thy  servant  kept. 
Forgive  me.  victor  of  the  foe, 
Nor  let  thy  wrath  against  me  glow. 
See  joining  suppliant  hands  I  pray, 
And  at  thy  feet  my  head  I  lay. 
Believe  my  words  :  against  my  will 
The  royal  seat  they  made  me  fill. 
Unkinged  they  saw  the  city,  hence 
They  made  me  lord  for  her  defence.' 

But  Bali,  though  I  humbly  sued, 
Reviled  me  in  his  furious  mood  : 
4  Out  on  thee,  wretch  ! '  in  wrath  he  cried. 
With  many  a  bitter  taunt  beside. 
He  summoned  every  lord,  and  all 
His  subjects  gathered  at  his  call. 
Then  forth  his  burning  anger  broke, 
And  thus  amid  his  friends  he  spoke: 
'  I  need  not  tell,  for  well  ye  know, 
How  fierce  Mayavi,  fiend*  and  foe, 
Came  to  Kishkindha's  gate  by  night, 
And  dared  me  in  his  wrath  to  fight, 
I  heard  each  word  the  demon  said : 
Forth  from  my  royal  hall  I  sped  ; 
And,  foe  in  brother's  guise  concealed, 
Sugriva  followed  to  the  field. 
The  mighty  demon  through  the  shade 
Beheld  me  come  with  one  to  aid  ; 
Then  shrinking  from  unequal  fight. 
He  turned  his  back  in  swiftest  flight. 
From  vengeful  foes  his  life  to  save 
He  sought  the  refuge  of  a  cave. 
Then  when  I  saw  the  fiend  had  fled 
Within  that  cavern  dark  and  dread, 
'Thus  to  my  brother  cruel-eyed, 
Impatient  in  my  wrath,  I  cried  : 
'  I  seek  no  more  my  royal  town 
Till  I  have  struck 'the  demon  down. 
Here  by  the  cavern's  mouth  remain 
Until  my  hand  the  foe  have  slain.' 
Upon  his  faith  my  heart  relied, 
And  swift  within  the  depths  I  hied. 
A  year  went  by  :  in  every  spot 
1  sought  the  fiend,  but  found  him  not. 
At  length  my  foe  I  saw  and  slew. 
Whom  long  I  feared  when  lost  to  view 
And  all  his  kinsmen  by  his  side 
Beneath  my  vengeful  fury  died. 
The  monster,  as  he  reeled  and  fell, 
Poured  forth  his  blood  with  roar  and  yell; 
And,  filling  all  the  cavern,  dyed 
The  portal  with  the  crimson  tide. 
Upon  my  foeman  slain  at  last 
One  look,  one  pitying  look,  I  cast. 
I  sought  again  the  light  of  day  : 
The  cave  was  closed  and  left  no  way. 
To  the  barred  mouth  I  sadly  came, 
And  called  aloud  Sugriva's  name. 
But  all  was  still ;  no  voice  replieda 


Canto 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


335 


And  hope  within!  in}'  bosorti  died. 
With  furious  efforts,  vain  at  first, 
Through  bars  of  rock  my  way  I  burst. 
Then,  free  once  more,  thejmth  that  brought 
My  feet  in  safety  home  I  sought. 
'twas  thus  Sugi'i'va  dared  despise 
The  claim  of  brothers'  friendly  ties. 
With  crags  of  rtfc'k  he  barred  me  in, 
And  for  himself  the  realm  would  win.-' 

Thus  Bali  spoke  in  words  severe  ; 
And  then,  unmoved  by  *uth  or  fear, 
Left  me  a  single  robe  and  sent 
His  brother  forth  in  banishment. 
He  cast  me  out  with  scfalihe  and  scornV 
And  from  my  side  my  wife  was  torn. 
Now  in  <*reat  fear  and  ill  at  ease 
I  roam  this  land  with  woods  and  seas, 
Or  dwell  on  Riflhyaruuka's  hill. 
And  sorrow  for  itfy  c'onsorfc  still. 
Thou  hast  the  tale  how  first  arose* 
This  bitter  hate  of  brother  foes. 
Such  are  the  griefs  neath  which  1  phie, 
And  all  without  a  fault  of  mine. 
O  swift  to  save  in-  hour  of  fear, 
My  prayer  who  dread  this  Bali/ hear. 
With  gracious  love  assistance  deign, 
And  mine  oppressor's  arm  restrain.' 

Then  Raghu's  son,  the  good  and  brave? 
With  a  gay  laugh  his  answer  gave  : 
'  These  shafts  of  mine  which  ne'er  oan  fail, 
Before  whose  sheen  the  sun  grows  pale,- 
Winged  by  My  fury,  fleet  and  fierce, 
The  wicked  Bali's  heart  shall  pierce. 
Yea,  mark  the  words  I  speak,  so  long 
Shall  live  that  wretch  who  joys  in  wrong, 
Until  these  angered  eyes  have  seen 
The  robber  of  thy  darling  queen. 
I,  taught  by  equal  suffering,  know 
What  waves  of  grief  above  thee  flow. 
This  hand  thy  captive  wife  shall  free, 
And  give  th/  kingdom  back  to1  thee.' 

Sugriva  joyed  as  Rama  spoke, 
And  valour  in  his  breast  awoke. 
His  eye  grew  bright,  his  heart  grew  bold,- 
And  thus  his  wondrous  tale  he  told  : 


CANTO  XI, 


BUNDtTBHI. 

'  I  doubt  not,  Prince,  thy  peerless  might, 
Armed  with  these  shafts  so  keen  and  bright. 
Like  all-destroying  fires  of  fate, 
The  worlds  could  burn  and  devastate; 
But  lend  thou  first  thy  mind  and  ear 
Of  Bali's  power  and  might  to  hear. 
How  bold,  how  firm,  in  battle  tried, 
Is  Bali's  heart ;  and  then  decide. 
From  east  to  west,  from  south  to  north 
Ou  restless  errand  hurrying  forth, 


From  farthest  sea  to  sea  he  flies 
Before  the  sun  has  lit  the  skies. 
A  m-ountain  top  he  oft  will  seek, 
Tear  from  its  root  a  towering  peak, 
Hurl  it  aloft,  as  'twere  a  ball, 
And1  catch  it  ere  to  earth  it  fall ; 
And  many  a  tree  that  long-  has  stood1 
In  health1  and  vigour  in  the  wood, 
His  single  arm  to  earth  will  throw, 
The  marvels  of  his  might  to  shoW. 
Shaped  like  a  bull,  a  monster  b6re 
The  name  of  Dundubhi  of  yore  : 
He  matched  in  size  a  mountain  height, 
A  thousand  elephants  in  might. 
By  pride  of  wondrous  gifts  impelled, 
And  strength  he  deemed'  unparalleled, 
To  Ocean,  lord  of  stream  and  brook, 
Athirst  for  war,  his  way  he  took. 
He  reached  the  king  of  rolling  waves 
Whose  gems  are  piled  in  sinless  caves, 
And  threw  his  challenge  to  the  sea  : 
« Come  forth,  O  King,  and  fight  with  me. 
He  spoke,  and  from  his  ocean  bed 
The  ffgtiteotw<  monarch  heaved  his  head, 
And  gave,  sedate,  his  calm  reply 
To  him  whom  fate  impelled  to  die  : 
'  Not  mine,  not  mine  t'he  power,'  he  cried,- 
'  To  cope  with  thee  in  battle  tried  ; 
But  listen  to  my  voice,  atid  seek 
The  worthier*  foe  of  whotn  I  speak. 
The  Loivd  of  Hills,  where  hermits  live 
And  love  the  home  his  forest*  give, 
Whose  child'  is  g'ankar's  darling  queen,2 
The  King  of  Snows  is  Ire  I  mean. 
Deep  caves  has  he.  and  dark  boughs  shade 
The  tofrent  and  the  wild  c'ascade. 
From'  him  expect  the  fierce  delight 
Which  heroes  feel  in  equal  fight.' 
He  deemed  that  feat  checked  ocean  & 

king, 

And,  like  an  arr'ow  from  the  string, 
To  the  wild  woods  that  clothe  the  Side 
Of  Lord  Himalaya's  hills.he  hied. 
Then  thindubhi,  with  hideous  roar",- 
Huge  fragments  from  the  summit  tore" 
Vast  as  Airavat,*  white  with  snow, 
And  hurled  them  to  the  plains  below. 
Then  like  a  white  cloud'  soft,  serene, 
The  Lord  of  Mountains'  foi*m'  was  seeflv 
It  sat  upon  a  lofty  ctfesf.    .      , 
And  thus  the  furious  fiend  addressed  : 
*  Beseefns  thee  not/  O  virtue's  friend, 
My  mountain  t6ps  to  rive  and  rend  ; 

1  Righteous  because  he  nevei?  transgres- 
ses his  bounds,  and 

"over  his  great  tides 
Fidelity  presides." 

*  Himalaya,  the  Lord   of  Snow,  is  thtf 
father  of  tJma  the  wife  of  $iva  or  gankar* 
3  Indra's  celestial  elephant. 


336 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  IV. 


For  I,  the  hermit's  calm  retreat, 
For  deeds  of  war  am  all  unmeet.' 

The  demon's  eye  with  rage  grew  red, 
And  thus  in  furious  tone  he  said  : 
•'  If  thou  from  fear  or  sloth  decline 
To  match  thy  strength  in  war  with  mine. 
Where  shall  I  find  a  champion,  say, 
'To  meet  me  burning  for  the  fray  ? ' 
He  spoke  ;  Himalaya,  skilled  in  lore 
•Of  eloquence,  replied  omce  more, 
.And.  angered  in  his  righteous  mind,, 
Addressed  the  chief  of  demon  kind  : 
4  The  Vanar  Bali,  brave  and  wise, 
Son  of  the  God  who  rules  the  skies,1 
Sways,  glorious  in  his  high  renown, 
Kishkindha  his  imperial  town. 
Well  may  that  valiant  lo,rd  who  knows 
Each  art  of  war  his  might  oppose 
To  thine,  in  equal  battle -set, 
As  Namuehl*  and  Ind^a  met. 
<Go,  if  thy  soul  desire  the  fray.; 
To  Bali's  city  speed  away, 
And  that  uaeonqiiered  hero  meet 
Whose  fame  is  high  for  warlike  feat.9 
He  Listened  to  the  Lord  of  Snow, 
And,  his  proud  heart  with  rage  aglow, 
£>ped  swift  away  and  lighted  down 
By  vast  Kishkindha,  Bali's  town. 
With  pointed  horns  to  strike  and  gore 
The  semblance  of  a  bull  he  bore, 
Huge  as  a  cloud  that  downward  bends 
Ere  the  i uli  flood  of  rain  descends. 
Impelled  by  pride  and  rage  .and  hate, 
He  thundered  at  Kishkihdha's  gate  ; 
And  with  his  bellowing,  like  the  sound 
Of  pealing  drums,  he  shook  the  ground* 
He  rent  the  earth  and  prostrate  threw 
The  trees  that  near  the  portal  grew. 
King  Bali  from  the  bowers  within 
Indignant  heard  the  roar  and  din. 
Then,  moonlike  mid  the  stars,  with  all 
His  dames  he  hurried  to  the  wall  ; 
And  to  the  fiend  this  speech,  expressed 
In  clear  and  measured  words,  addressed: 
1  Know  nae  for  monarch.  Bali  styled, 
Of  Vanar  tribes  that  roam  the  wild. 
£>ay  why , dost  thou  this  gate  molest, 
And  bellowing  thus  disturb -our  rest  ? 
I  know  trhee,  mighty  fiend :  beware 
And  guard  thy  life  with  wiser  care.' 
He  spoke  :  and  thus  the  fiend  returned, 
While  red  with  rage  his  eyeballs  burned  : 
-'What !  speak  when  all  thy  dames  are  nigh 
And  hero-like  thy  foe  defy  ? 


i1  Bali  was  the  son  of  Indra.  See 
p.  .28. 

*  An  Asur  slain  by  Indra.  See  p.  261 
Note.  He  is,  like  Vritra,  a  form  of  the 
demon  of  drought  destroyed  by  the  ben,e- 
£cent  God  of  the  firmament. 


Come,  meet  me  in  the  fight  this  day, 
And  learn  my  strength  by  bold  assay. 
Or  shall  I  spare  thee,  and  relent 
Until  the  coming  night  be  spent? 
Take  then  the  respite  of  a  night 
And  yield  thee  to  each  soft  delight. 
Then,  monarch  of  the  Vanar  race, 
With  loving  arms  thy  friends  embrace. 
-Gifts  on  thy  faithful  lords  bestow, 
Bid  each  and  all  farewell,  and  go. 
Sh"w  in  the  streets  onee  more  thy  face, 
Instal  thy  son  to  fill  thy  place. 
Dally  a  while  with  each  dear  dame  ; 
And  then  my  strength  thy  pride  shall  tame 
For,  should  I  smite  thee  drunk  with  wine 
Enamoured  of  those  dames  of  thine, 
Beneath  diseases  bowed  and  bent, 
Or  weak,  unarmed,  or  negligent. 
My  deed  would  merit  hate  and  scorn 
As  his  who  slays  the  child  unborn.' 
Then  Bali's  soul  with  rage  was  fired., 
-Queen  Tara  and  the  Chiracs  retired  ; 
And  slowly,  with  a  laugh  of  pride, 
The  king  of  Vanars  thus  replied  : 
4  Me,  fiend,  thou  deemest  drunk  with  wine: 
Unless  thy  fear  the  tight  decline, 
Come,  meet  me  in  the  fray,  and  test 
The  spirit  of  my  valiant  breast.' 
He  spoke  in  wrath  and  high  disdain  ; 
And,  laying  down  his  golden  chain, 
Gift  .of  his  sire  Mahendra,  dared 
The  demon,  for  the  fray  prepared  ; 
Seised  by  the  horns  the  monster,  vast 
As  a  huge  hill.,  and  held  him  fast, 
Then  fiercely  dragged  him  round  and  round, 
And.,  shouting,  hurled  him  to  the  ground. 
Blood  streaming  from  his  ears,  he  rose, 
And  wild  with  fury  strove  the  foes. 
Then  Bali,  match  for  Indra's  might, 
With  every  ;arm  renewed  the  fight. 
He  fought  with  fists,  and  feet,  and  knees, 
With  fragments  of  the  rock,  and  trees. 
At  last  the  monster's  strength,  assailed 
By  ^akra's1  conquering  offspring,  failed. 
Him  Bali  raised  with  mighty  strain, 
And  dashed  upon  the  ground  again  ; 
Where, braised  and  shattered,  in  a  tide 
Of  rutiing  blood,  the  demon  died. 
King  B,ali  saw  the  lifeless  corse, 
And.  bending,  with  tremendous  force 
Raised  the  huge  bulk  from  where  it  lay, 
And  hurled  it  full  a  league  away. 
As  through  the  air  the  body  flew, 
Some  blood-drops,  caught  by  gales  that 

blew, 

Welled  from  his  shattered  jaw  and  fell 
By  Saint  Matanga's  hermit  eell  : 
"M'atanga  saw*  illustrious  sage, 
Those  drops  defile  his  hermitage, 

1  Another  name  of  Indra  or  Mahendra. 


Canto  XL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


337 


And,  as  he  marvelled  whence  they  came, 
Fierce  anger  filled  his  soul  with  flame  : 

*  Wno  is  the  villain,  evil-souled, 

With  childish  thoughts  unwise  and  bold, 
Who  is  the  impious  wretch,'  he  cried, 

*  By  whom  my  grove  with  blood  is  dyed  ?' 

Thus  spoke  Matanga  in  his  rage. 
And  hastened  from  the  hermitage, 
When  lo,  before  his  wondering  eyes 
Lay  the  dead  bull  of  mountain  size. 
His  hermit  soul  was  nothing  slow 
The  doer  of  the  deed  to  know, 
And  thus  the  Variar  in  a  burst 
Of  wild  tempestifous  wrath  he  cursed  : 
'  Ne'er  let  that  Vanar  wander  here, 
For,  if  he  come,  his  death  is  near. 
Whose  impious  hand  with  blood  has  dyed 
The  holy  place  where  I  abide, 
Who  threw  this  demon  corse  and  made 
A  ruin  of  the  pleasant  shade. 
If  e'er  he  plant  his  wicked  feet 
Within  one  league  of  my  retreat ; 
Yea,  if  the  villain  come  so  nigh 
That  very  hour  he  needs  must  die. 
And  let  the  Vanar  lords  who  dwell 
In  the  dark  woods  that  skirt  my  cell 
Obey  my  words,  and  speeding  hence 
Find  them  some  meeter  residence. 
Here  if  they  dare  to  stay,  on  all 
The  terrors  of  my  curse  shall  fall. 
They  spoil  the  tender  saplings,  dear 
As  children  which  I  cherish  here, 
Mar  root  and  branch  and  leaf  and  spray, 
And  steal  the  ripening  fruit  away. 
One  day  I  grant,  no  further  hour, 
To-morrow  shall  my  curse  have  power, 
And  then  each  Vanar  I  may  see 
A  stone  through  countless  years  shall  be.' 
The  Vanars  heard  the  curse  and  hied 
From  sheltering  wood  and  mountain  side. 
King  Bali  marked  their  haste  and  dread, 
And  to  the  flying  leaders  said  : 

*  Speak,  Vanar  chiefs,  and  tell  me  why 
From  Saint  Matanga's  grove  ye  fly 
To  gather  round  me  :  is  it  well 

With  all  who  in  those  woodlands  dwell  ?' 
He  spoke  :  the  Vanar  leaders  told 
King  Bali  with  his  chain  of  gold 
What  curse  the  saint  had  on  them  laid, 
Which  drove  them  from  their  ancient  shade. 
Then  royal  Bali  sought  the  sage, 
With  reverent  hands  to  soothe  his  rage. 
The  holy  man  his  suppliant  spurned, 
And  to  his  cell  in  anger  turned. 
That  curse  on  Bali  sorely  pressed. 
And  long  his  conscious  soul  distressed. 
Him  still  the  curse  and  terror  keep 
Afar  from  Rishyamuka's  steep. 
He  dares  not  to' the  grove  draw  nigh, 
Nay  scarce  will  hither  turn  his  eye. 
We  know  what  terrors  warm  him  hence, 


And  roam  these  woods  in  confidence. 
Look,  Prince,  before  thee  white  and  dry 
The  demon's  bones  uncovered  lie, 
Who,  like  a  hill  in  bulk  and  length, 
Fell  mind  for  his  pride  of  strength. 
See  those  high  Sal  trees  seven  in  row 
That  droop  their  mighty  branches  low, 
These  at  one  grasp  would  Bali  seize, 
And  leafless  shake  the  trembling  trees. 
These  tales  1  tell,  O  Prince,  to  show 
The  matchless  power  that  arms  the  foe. 
How  canst  thou  hope  to  slay  him  ?  how 
Meet  Bali  in  the  battle  now  ?' 

Sugriva  spoke  and  sadly  sighed  : 
And  Lakshman  with  a  laugh  replied: 
*  What  show  of  power,  what  proof  and  test 
May  still  the  doubts  that  fill  thy  breast  ?' 

He  spoke.    Sugriva  thus  replied  : 
'  See  yonder  Sal  trees  side  by  side. 
King  Bali  here  would  take  his  stand 
Grasping  his  bow  with  vigorous  hand, 
And  eveiy  arrow,  keen  and  true. 
Would  strike  its  treeand  pierce  ifc  through 
If  Rama  now  his  bow  will  bend, 
And  through  one  trunk  an  arrow  send  ; 
Or  if  his  arm  can  raise  and  throw 
Two  hundred  measures  of  his  bow, 
Grasped  by  a  foot  and  hurled  through  air, 
The  demon  bull  that  moulders  there, 
My  heart  will  own  his  might  and  fain, 
Believe  my  foe  already  slain.' 

Sugriva  spoke  inflamed  with  ire, 
Scanned  Rama  with  a  glance  of  fire, 
Pondered  a  while  in  silent  mood. 
And  thus  again  his  speech  renewed  : 
'All  lands  with  Bali's  glories  ring, 
A  valiant,  strong,  and  mighty  king ; 
In  conscious  power  unused  to  yield, 
A  hero  first  in  every  field. 
His  wondrous  deeds  his  might  declare, 
Deeds  Gods  might  scarcely  do  or  dare  ; 
And  on  this  power  reflecting  still 
1  roam  on  Rishyarnuka's  hill. 
Awed  by  my  brother's  might  I  rove, 
In  doubt  and  fear,  from  grove  to  grove, 
While  Hanuman,  my  chosen  friend, 
And  faithful  lords  my  steps  attend  ; 
And  now,  O  true  to  friendship's  tie, 
I  hail  in  thee  my  best  ally. 
My  surest  refuge  from  my  foes, 
And  steadfast  as  the  Lord  of  Snows. 
Still,  when  I  muse  how  strong  and  bold 
Is  cruel  Bali,  evil-souled, 
But  ne'er,  O  chief  of  Raghu's  line, 
Have  seen  what  strength  in  war  is  thine, 
Though  in  my  heart  I  may  not  dare 
Doubt  thy  great  might,  despise,  compare, 
Thoughts  of  his  fearful  deeds  will  rise 
And  fill  my  soul  with  sad  surmise. 
Speech,  form,  and  trust  which  naught  may 
move 


338 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  IV. 


Thy  secret  strength  and  glory  prove, 
As  smouldering  ashes  dimly  show 
The  dormant  fires  that  live  below.' 

He  ceased  :  and  Rama  answered,  while 
Played  o'er  his  lips  a  gracious  smile  : 
*Not  yet  convinced  ?  This  clear  assay 
Shall  drive  each  lingering  doubt  away.' 
Thus  Rama  spoke  his  heart  to  cheer, 
To  Dundubhi  s  vast  frame  drew  near  ; 
Be  touched  it  with  his  foot  in  play 
And  sent  it  twenty  leagues  away. 
tfiigfiva  marked  what  easy  force 
Hurled  through  the  air  that  demon"s  corse 
Whose  mighty  bones  were  white  and  dried, 
And  to  the  son  of  Raghu  cried  : 
'My  brother  Bali,  when  his  might 
"Was  drunk  and  weary  from  the  fight, 
Hurled  forth  the  monster  body,  fresh 
With  skin  and  sine\ys,  blood  and  flesh. 
Now  flesh  and  blood  are  dried  away, 
The  crumbling  bones  are  light  a;s  hay, 
Which  thou,  O  Raghu's  son,  hast  sent 
Flying  through  air  in  merrimect. 
This  test  alone  is  weak  to  show 
If  thou  be  stronger  or  the  foe. 
By  thee  a  heap  of  mouldering  bone, 
By  him  the  recent  ctorse  was  thrown. 
Thy  strength,  O  Prince,  is  yet  untried  : 
Come,  pierce  one  tree  :  let  thfa  decide. 
Prepare  thy  ponderous  bow  and  bring 
Close  to  thine  ear  the  straining  string. 
On  yonder  Sal  tree  fix  thine  eye, 
And  let  the  mighty  arrow  fly, 
I  doubt  not,  chief,-  that  I  shall  see 
I'hy  pointed  shaft  transfix  tbe  tree. 
Then  come,  assay  the  easy  task, 
And  do  for  love  the  thing  I  ask. 
Best  of  all  lights,  the  Day-God  fills 

With  glory  e'arth  and  sky  : 
Himalaya  is  the  lord  of  hills 

That  heave  their  heads  on  high. 
The  royal  lion  is  the  best 

Of  beasts  that  tread  the  earth  j 
And  thou,  0  hero,  art  confessed 

First  in  heroic  worth.' 

CANTO  Xlt 


PALM  TRfcES. 


Then  Mma,  that  h!s  friend  might  kn6w 
His  strength  unrivalled,  grasped  his  bow, 
That  mighty  bow  the  foe's  dismay,— 
And  on  the  string  an  arrow  lay. 
Next  on  the  tree  his  eye  he  bent, 
Arid  forth  the  hurtling  weapon  went. 
Loosed  from  the  matchless  hero's  hold, 
That  arrow,  decked  with  burning  gold, 
Cleft  the  seven  palms  in  line,  and  through 
The  hill  that  rose  behind  them  flew  : 


Six  subterranean  realms  it  passed, 
And  reached  the  lowest  depth  at  last, 
Whence  speeding  back  through  earth  and 

aii- 
lt  sought  the  quiver,  and  rested  there.1 
Upon  the  cloven  trees,  amazed. 
The  sovereign  of  the  Vanars  gazed. 
With  all  his  chains  and  gold  outspread 
Prostrate  on  earth  he  laid  his  head. 
Then,  rising,  palm  to  palm  he  laid 
In  reverent  act,  obeisance  made, 
And  joyously  to  Rama,  best 
Of  war-trained  cliiefs,  these  words  ad- 
dressed : 

*  What  champion,  Raghu's  son,  may  hop* 
With  thee  in  deadly  fight  to  cope, 
Whose  arrow,  leaping  f  roin  the  bow,  * 
Cleaves  tree  and  hill  £nd  earth  below  ? 
Scarce  might  the  Gods,  arrayed  for  strife 
By  Indra's  self,  escape,  with  life 
Assailed  by  thy  victorious  hand  : 
And  hqw  may  Bali  hope  to  stand  ? 
All  grief  and  care  are  past  away, 
And  joyous  thoughts  my  bosom  sway, 
tVho  have  in  thee  a  f  rietadj  renowned, 
As  Varna2  or  as  Indra,  found. 
Then  on!  subdue,— 'tisf  riendship'sclaim,— 
My  foe  who  bears  a  brothers  name. 
Strike  Bali  down  ben'eath  thy  feet: 
With  suppliant  hands  I  thus  entreat.' 
Sugriva  ceased,  and  Rama  pressed 
The  grateful  Ifanar  to  his  breast ; 
And  thoughts  of  kindred  feeling  woke 
In  Lakshman's  bosom,  as  he  spoke  : 
<  On  to  Kishkindha,  on  with  speed! 
•thou,  Vanar  King,  our  way  shalt  lead, 
Then  challenge  Bali  forth  to  fight 
Thy  fere  who  scorns  a  brother's  right.' 

They  sought   Kishkindha's   gate   and 

stood 

Concealed  by  trees  in  densest  wood, 
Sugriva,  to  the  fight  addressed, 
More  closely  dfew  his  cinctured  vest, 
And  raised  a  wild  sky-piercing  shout 


>  The  Bengal  recension  makes  it  returri 
in1  the  form  of  a  swan. 

2  Varunais  one  of  the  oldest  of  the 
Vedic  Gods,  corresponding  in^name^and 
partly  in  character  to  the  Qvpavo£  of 
the  Greeks  and  is  often  regarded  as  the 
supreme  deity.  He  upholds  heaven  and 
earth,  possesses  extraordinary  power  and 
wisdom,  sends  his  messengers  through 
both  worlds,  numbers  the  very  winkings 
of  men's  eyes,  punishes  transgressors  whom 
he  seizes  with  his  deadly  noose,  and  pard- 
ons the  sins  of  those  who  are  penitent.  In 
later  mythology  he  has  become  the  God 
of  the  sea. 


Canto  XII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


339 


To  call  the  foeman  Bali  out. 

Forth  came  impetuous  Bali,  stirred 
To  fury  by  the  shout  he  heard. 
So  the  great  sun,  ere  night  has  ceased, 
Springs  up  impatient  to  the  east. 
Then  fierce  and  wilcj  the  conflict  raged 
As  hand  to  hand  ttye  foes  engage4, 
As  though  in  battle  mid  the  stars 
Fought  Mercury  and  $ery  Mars.1 
To  highest  pitch  of  frenzy  wrought 
Wjtla  fists  like  thunderbolts  they  foughfc, 
While  near  them  Rania  took  his  stand, 
And  viewed  the  battle,  bow  in  hand. 
Alike  they  stood  in  form  and  might, 
Like  heayenly  AsvinsV  paired  in  fight, 
Nor  might  the  son  of  Raghu  know 
Where  f  ought  the  jEriend  and  where  the  £oe; 
3o,  while  his  bow  was  ready  bent, 
No  life-destroying  shaft  he  sent. 
jCrushecjl  down  by  Bali's  might  jer  stroke 
Sugriva's  force  now  sank  and  broke, 
Who,  hoping  naught  from  Kama's  aid, 
To  Rishyamuka  fled  dismayed. 
Weary,  and  faint,  and  wounded  sore, 
His  body  bruised  and  dyed  with  gore, 
From  Bali's  blows,  in  rage  and  dread, 
Afar  to  sheltering  woods  he  fled. 

Nor  Bali  farther  chared  pursue, 
The  curbing  curse  too  well  he  knew. 
*  Fled  from  thy  death  ! '  the  victor  cried, 
And  home  the  mighty  warrior  hied. 
Hanuman,  Lakshman,  Raghu's  son 
Beheld  the  conquered  Vanar  run, 
And  followed  to  the  sheltering  shade 
Where  yet  Sugriya  stood  dismayed. 
Near  and  more  near  the  chieftains  came, 
Then,  for  intolerable  shame, 
Not  daring  yejb  to  lift  his  eyes, 
fcugriva  spoke  with  burning  sighs  : 
'  Thy  matchjjess  strength  I  first  beheld, 
And  dared  my  foe,  by  thee  impelled. 
Why  hast  thou  tried  me  with  deceijb 
And  urged  me  to  a  sure  defeat  ? 


1  Budha,  not  to  be  confounded  with  the 
great  reformer  Buddha,  is  the  son  of  JSoma 
.or  the  Moon,  and  regent  of  the  planet 
Mercury.    Angara  is  the  regent  of  Mars 
who  is  called  the  red  or  the  fiery  planet. 
The  encounter  between  Michael  and  fcjatan 
js  similarly  said  to  have  been  as  if 
"Two  planets  rushing  from  aspect  malign 
Of  fiercest  opposition  in  miclsky 
Should  combat,  and  their  jarring  spheres 
compound." 

Paradise  Lost,   Book  VI. 

*  The  Asvins  or  Heavenly  Twins,  the 

Pioskuri  or  Castor    and   Pollux   of    the 

Hindus,  have  frequently  been  mentioned. 

bee  p,  06,  Note, 


Thou  shouldst  have  said, '  I  will  not  slay 
Thy  foeman  in  the  coming  fray.' 
For  had  I  then  thy  purpose  known 
I  had  not  waged  the  fight  alone.' 

The  Vanar  sovereign,  lofty-souled, 
Jn  plaintive  voice  his  sorrows  told. 
Then  Rama  spake :  '  Sugriva,  list, 
All  anger  from  thy  heart  dismissed, 
And  I  will  tell  the  cause  that  stayed 
Mine  arrow,  and  withheld  the  aid. 
In  dress,  adornment,  port,  and  height, 
In  splendour,  battle-shout,  and  might, 
No  shade  of  difference  could  I  see 
Between  thy  foe,  O  King,  and  thee. 
So  like  was  each,  I  stood  at  gaze, 
My  senses  lost  in  withering  maze, 
Nor  loosened  from  ray  straining  bow 
A  deadly  arrow  at  the  foe, 
Lest  in  my  doubt  the  shaft  should  sen4 
To  sudden  death  our  surest  friend. 
O,  if  this  hand  in  Ijeedless  guilt 
And  rash  resolve  thy  blood  had  spilt, 
Through  every  land,  O  Vanar  King, 
My  wild  and  foolish  act  would  ring, 
Sore  weight  of  sin  Qn  him  must  lie 
By  whom  a  friend  is  made  to  die  ; 
And  Lakshman.  I,  and  Sita,  best 
Of  dames,  on  thy  protection  rest. 
On,  warrior  1  for  the  fight  prepare; 
Nor  fear  again  thy  foe  to  dare. 
Within  one  hour  thine  eye  shall  view 
My  arrow  strike  thy  foeinan  through  ; 
Shall  see  the  stricken  Bali  lie 
I/ow  on  the  earth,  and  gasp  and  die. 
£ut  come,  a  badge  about  thee  bind, 
O  monarch  of  the  Vanar  kind, 
That  in  the  battle  shock  mine  eyes 
The  friend  and  foe  may  recognize. 
Come,  Lakshman  f  let  that  creeper  deck 
With  brightest  bloom  Sugriva's  neck, 
And  be  a  happy  token,  twined 
Around  the  chief  of  lofty  mind.' 

Upon  the  mountain  slope  there  grew 
A  spreading  creeper  fair  to  view. 
And  Laksnman  plucked  the   bloom  aoc| 

round 

Sugriva's  neck  a  garland  wound. 
Graced  with  the  flowery  wreath  he  wore, 
The  Vanar  chief  the  semblance  bore 
Of  a  darjv  cloud  at  close  of  day 
Bngarlanded  with  cranes  at  play, 
In  glorious  light  the  Vanar  glowed 
As  by  his  comrade's  side  he  strode, 
And,  still  on  Rama's  words  intent, 
His  steps  to  great  I£ishkindh£  bernX 


340 


THE 


Book  IV. 


CANTO  XIII. 


THE  RETURN  TO  KISHKINDHA, 

Thus  with  Sugriva,  from  the  side 

Of  Rishyamuka,  Rama  hied, 

And  stood  before  Kishkindha's  gate 

Where  Bali  kept  his  regal  state. 

The  hero  in  his  warrior  hold 

Raised  his  great  bow  adorned  with  gold, 

And  drew  his  pointed  arrow  bright 

As  sunbeams,  finisher  of  fight. 

Strong-necked  Sugriva  led  the  way 

With  Lakshman  mighty  in  the  fray* 

Nala  and  Nila  came  behind 

With  Hanuman  of  lofty  mind, 

And  valiant  Tara,  last  in  place, 

A  leader  of  the  Vanar  race. 

They  gazed  on  many  a  tree  that  showed 

The  glory  of  its  pendent  load, 

And  brook  and  limpid  rill  that  made 

Sweet  murmurs  as  they  seaward  strayed. 

They  looked  on  caverns  dark  and  deep, 

On  bower  and  glen  and  mountain  steep, 

And  saw  the  opening  lotus  stud 

With  roseate  cup  the  crystal  Hood, 

While  crane  and  swan  and  coot  and  drake 

Wade  pleasant  music  on  the  lake, 

And  from  the  reedy  bank  was  heard 

The  note  of  many  a  happy  bird. 

In  open  lawns,  in  tangled  ways, 

They  saw  the  tall  deer  stand  at  gaze, 

Or  marked  them  free  and  fearless  roam, 

Fed  with  sweet  grass,  their  woodland  home. 

At  times  two  flashing  tusks  between 

The  wavings  of  the  wood  were  seen, 

And  some  mad  elephant,  alone, 

Like  a  huge  moving  hill,  was  shown. 

And  scarcely  less  in  size  appeared 

Great  monkeys  all  with  dust  besmeared. 

And  various  birds  that  roam  the  skies, 

And  silvan  creatures,  met  their  eyes, 

As  through  the  wood  the  chieftains  sped, 

And  followed  where  Sugriva  led. 

Then  Rama,  as  their  way  they  made, 
Saw  near  at  hand  a  lovely  shade, 
And,  as  he  gazed  upon  the  trees, 
Spake  to  Sugriva  words  like  these  : 
'Those  stately  trees  in  beauty  rise 
Fair  as  a  cloud  in  autumn  skies. 
I  ffcin,  my  friend,  would  learn  from  thee 
What  pleasant  grove  is  that  I  see.' 

Thus  Rama  spake,  the  mighty  souled ; 
And  thus  his  tale  Sugriva  told: 

«  That,  Rama,  is  a  wide  retreat 
That  brings  repose  to  weary  feet. 
Bright  streams  and  fruitandr<  ots  are  there 
And  shadv  gardens  passing  fair. 
There,  neath  the  roof  of  banging  boughs, 
The  sacred  Seven  maintained  their  vows. 


Their  heads  ill  dust  were  lowly  laid, 
"n  streams  their  nightly  beds  were  made. 
Cach  seventh  night  they  broke  their  fast, 
3ut  air  was  still  their  sole  repast, 
And  when  seven  hundred  years  were  spent 
Do  homes  in  heaven  the  hermits  went. 
Their  glory  keeps  the  garden  yet, 
With  walls  of  stately  trees  beset. 
Scarce  would  the  Gods  and  demons  dare, 
By  Indra  led,  to  enter  there. 
No  beast  that  roams  the  wood  is  found, 
STo  bird  of  air,  within  the  bound  ; 
Or,  thither  if  they  idly  stray, 
They  tind  no  more  their  homeward  way. 
You  hear  at  times  mid  dulcet  tones 
The  chime  of  anklets,  rings,  and  zones. 
You  hear  the  sons;  and  music  sound. 
And  heavenly  fragrance  breathes  around, 
There  duly  burn  the  triple  fires1 
Where  mounts  the  smoke  in  curling  spires, 
And,  in  a  dun  wreath,  hangs  above 
The  tall  trees,  like  a  brooding  dove. 
Round  branch  and  crest  the  vapours  close 
Till  every  tree  enveloped  shows 
A  hill  of  lazulite  when  clouds 
Hang  round  it  with  their  misty  shrouds. 
With  Lakshman,  lord  of  Raghu's  line, 
In  reverent  guise  thine  head  incline, 
And  with  fixt  heart  and  suppliant  hand 
Give  honour  to  the  sainted  band. 
They  who  with  faithful  hearts  revere 
The  holy  Seven  who  harboured  here, 
Shall  never,  son  of  Raghu,  know 
In  all  their  lives  an  hour  of  woe.' 

Then  Rama  and  his  brother  bent, 
And  did  obeisance  reverent 
With  suppliant  hand  and  lowly  head, 
Then  with  Sugriva  onward  sped. 
Beyond  the  sainted  Seven's  abode 
Far  on  their  way  the  chieftains  strode, 
And  great  Kishkindha's  portal  gained, 
The  royal  town  where  Bali  reigned. 
Then  by  the  gate  they  took  their  stand 
All  ready  armed  a  noble  band, 

And  burning  every  one 
To  slay  in  battle,  hand  to  hand, 

Their  foeman,  Indra's  son, 

CANTO  XIV. 


THE  CHALLENGE. 

They  stood  where  trees  of  densest  green 
Wove  round  their  forms  a  veiling  screen. 
O'er  all  the  garden's  pleasant  shade 
The  eyes  of  King  Sugriva  strayed, 

1  Called  respectively  Garhapatya.  Aha- 
vaniya,  and  Dakshina,  household,  sacri- 
ficial, and  southern. 


Canto  XV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


341 


And,  as  oft  grass  and  tree  he  gazed, 
The  fires  of  wrath  within  him  blazed. 
Then  like  a  mighty  cloud  on  high, 
When  roars  the  tempest  through  the  sky,, 
Girt  by  his  friends  he"  thundered  out 
His  dread  sky-rending  battle-shout. 
Like  some  proud  Iron  in  his  gait, 
Or  as  the  sun  begins  his  state, 
Stigriva  let  his  quick  glance  rest 
On  Rama  whom  he  thus  addressed  : 
'  There  is  the  seat  of  Bali's  sway, 
Where  flags  on  wall  and  turret  play. 
Which  mighty  bands  of  Vanars  hold; 
Rich  in  all  arms  and  store  of  gold. 
Thy  promise  to  thy  mind  recall 
That  Bali  by  thy  hand  shall  fall. 
As  kindly  fruits  adorn  the  bough, 
So  give  my  hopes  their  harvest  n(iw.-r 

In  suppliant  tone  the  Vanar  prated, 
And  Raghu's  son  his  answer  made  : 
4  By  Lakshman's  hand  this  flowery  twine 
Was  wound  about  tbee  for  a  sign. 
The  wreath  of  giant  creeper  throws 
About  thy  form  its  brillant  glows, 
As  though  about  the  sun  were  set 
The-  bright  stars  for  a  coronet. 
One  shaft  of  mine  this  day,  dear  friend, 
Thy  sorrow  and  thy  fear  shall  end. 
And,  from  the  bowstring  freed,  shall  be 
Giver  of  freedom,  King,  to  thee. 
Then  come,  Sugriva,  quickly  show, 
Where'er  he  lie,  thy  bitter  foe  ; 
And  let  my  glance  the  wretch  descry 
Whose  deeds  a  brother's  name  belie. 
Yea,  soon  in  dust  and  blood  o'erthrown 
Shall  Bali  fall  and  gasp  and  groan. 
Once  let  this  eye  the  foeman  see, 
Then,  if  he  live  to  turn  and  flee, 
Despise  my  puny  strength,  and  shame 
With  foul  opprobrium  Rama's  name. 
Hast  thou  not  seen  this  hand,  O  King, 
Through  seven  tall  trees  one  arrow  wing? 
Still  in  that  strength  securely  trust, 
And  deem  thy  foeman  in  the  dust. 
In  all  my  days,  though  sorely  tried 
By  grief  and  woe,  I  ne'er  have  lied; 
And  still  by  duty's  law  restrained 
Will   ne'er   with    falsehood's    charge   be 

stained. 

Cast  doubt  away  :  the  oatb  I  sware 
Its  kindly  fruit  shall  quickly  bear, 
As  smiles  the  land  with  golden  grain 
By  mercy  of  the  Lord  of  rain. 
On,  warrior,  to  the  gute  !  defy 
Thy  foe  with  shout  and  battle-cry, 
Till  Bali  with  his  chain  of  gold 
Come  speeding  from  his  royal  hold. 
Proud  hearts,  with  warlike  fire  aglow, 
Brook  not  the  challenge  of  a  foe  ; 
Each  on  his  power  and  might  relies, 
And  most  before  his  ladies'  eyes, 


King  Bali  loves  the  fray  too  well 
To  linger  in  his  citadel, 
And,  when  he  hears  thy  battle-shout, 
All  wild  for  war  will  hasten  out.' 
He  spoke.   Sugriva  raised  a  cry 
That  shook  and  rent  the  echoing  sky, 
A  shout  so  fierce  and  loud  and  dread 
That  stately  bulls  in  terror  fled, 
Like  dames  who  fly  from  threatened  stairs 
In  some  ignoble  monarch's  reign. 
The  deer  in  wild  confusion  ran 
Like  horses  turned  in  battle's  van. 
Down  fell  the  birds,  like  Gods  who  fall 
When  merits  fail,1  at  that  dread  call. 
So  fiercely,  boldened  for  the  fray, 
The  offspring  of  the  Lord  of  Day 
Sent  forth  his  furious  shout  as  loud 
As  thunder  from  a  labouring  cloud, 
Or,  where  the  gale  blows  fresh  and  free, 
The  roaring  of  the  troubled  sea. 


CANTO  XV. 

TARA. 

That  shout,  which  shook  the  land  with  fear, 

In  thunder  smote  on  Bali's  ear, 

Where  in  the  chamber  barred  and  closed 

The  sovereign  with  his  dame  reposed. 

Each  amorous  thought  was  rudely  stilled, 

And  pride  and  rage  his  bosom  filled, 

His  angry  eyes  flashed  darkly  red, 

And  all  his  native  brightness  fled, 

As  when,  by  swift  eclipse  assailed, 

The  glory  of  the  sun  has  failed. 

While  in  his  fury  uncontrolled 

He  ground  his  teeth,  his  eyeballs  rolled, 

He  seemed  a  lake  wherein  no  gem 

Of  blossom  decks  the  lotus  stem. 

He  heard,  and  with  indignant  pride 

Forth  from  the  bower  the  Vanar  hied. 

And  the  earth  trembled  at  the  beat 

And  fury  of  his  hastening  feet. 

But  Tara  to  her  consort  flew, 

Her  loving  arms  around  him  threw, 

And,  trembling  and  bewildered,  gave 

Wise  counsel  that  might  heal  and  save  : 

O  dear  my  lord,  this  rage  control 

That  like  a  torrent  floods  thy  soul, 

And  cast  these  idle  thoughts  away 

Like  faded  wreaths  of  yesterday, 

O  tarry  till  the  morning  light, 

Then,  if  thou  wilt,  go  forth  and  fight. 

1  The  store  of  merit  accumulated  by  a 
holy  or  austere  life  secures  only  a  tempo- 
rary seat  in  the  mansions  of  bliss.  When 
by  the  lapse  of  time  this  store  is  exhausted, 
return  to  earth  is  unavoidable. 


342 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  IV. 


not  J  doubt  ;thy  valour,  no  ; 
Or  deem  thee  weaker  than  thy  foe, 
Yet  for  a  while  would  have  thee  stay 
Nor  see  thee  tempt  the  tight  jbo-day. 
Now  list,  my  loving  lord,  and  learn 
The  reason  why  J  bid  thee  turn. 
Thy  f  oeman  came  in  wratfy  and  pri^e, 
And  thee  to  deadly  fight  defied. 
Thou  wentest  out :  he  fought,  and  fled 
Sore  wounded  and  discomfited. 
But  yet,  untaught  by  late  defeat, 
He  conies  his  conquering  foe  to  meet, 
And  calls  $hee  forth  with  cry  and  shout : 
Hence  spring,  my  lord,  this  fear  and  doubjt. 
A  heart  so  bold  that  will  not  yield, 
But  yearns  to  tetnpt  the  desperate  field. 
{Such  loud  defiance,  fiercely  pressed, 
On  no  uncertain  hope  can  res^t. 
tSo  lately  by  jthine  arm  o'erthrown, 
He  comes  pot  back,  I  ween,  alone. 
Some  mightier  comrade  guards  his  side, 
And  spurs  him  to  this  burst  of  pride. 
For  nature  made  the  V£nar  wise : 
On  arms  of  might  his  hope  relies  ; 
And  never  will  Sugriva  seek 
A  friend  whose  power  to  save  is  weak. 
Now  listen  while  my  lips  unfold 
fhe  wondrous  tale  my  Angad  tol4. 
Our  child  the  distant  forest  sought, 
And,  learnt  from  spies,  the  tidings  brought. 
Two  sons  of  Dasaratha,  sprung 
From  old  Ikshv&ku,  brave  and  young, 
Renowned  in  arms,  in  war  untamed — 
Kama  and  Lakshman  are  they  nained-r- 
Have  with  thy  foe  Sugriva  maole 
A  league  of  love  and  friendly  aid. 
Now  Kama,  famed  for  exploit  high, 
Is  bound  thy  brother's  firm  ally. 
|jtke  tires  of  doom1  that  ruin  all 
He  makes  each  foe  before  tyim  fall. 
He  is  the  suppliant's  sure  defence, 
The  tree  that  shelters  innocence. 
The  poor  and  wretched  seek  hjs  feet : 
In  him  the  noblest  glories  meet. 
With  skill  and  knowledge  vast  and  deep 
His  sire's  commands  he  loved  to  keep  ; 
With  princely  gifts  and  graces  sjbored 
As  metals  deck  the  Mountains'  I^ord.* 
Tbpu  canst  not,  O  my  hero,  stand 
Before  th.e  might  of  Kama's  hand  ; 
For  none  may  match  his  power?  or  dare 
With  him  in  deeds  of  war  compare. 
Hear,  I  entreat,  tl^e  words  I  say, 
3£or  lightly  iturn  my  rede  away. 
O  let  fraternal  oljscord  cease, 
And!  link  you  in  the  bonds  of  peace. 
Let  consecrating  rites  ordain 


Sugriva  partner  of  thy  reign. 
Let  war  and  thoughts  of  conflict  end, 
And  be  thou  his  and  Kama's  friend. 
Each  soft  approach  of  love  begin, 
And  to  thy  soul  thy  brother  win  ; 
For  whether  here  or  there  he  be, 
Thy  brother  still,  dear  lord,  is  he. 
Though  far  antf  wide  these  eyes  I  strain 
A  friend  like  him  I  seek  in  vain. 
Let  gentle  wonjs  his  heart  incline, 
4-nd  gifts  and  honours  make  him  thine, 
Till,  foes  no  more,  in  love  allied, 
You  stand  as  brothers  side  by  side. 
Thou  in  high  rank  wast  wont  to  hold 
Sugriva,  formecj  in  massive  mould  : 
Then  come,  thy  brother's  loye  regain, 
For  other  aids  are  weak  and  vain. 

thou  woulol  please  my  soul,  and  still 
Preserve  me  frorn  all  fear  and  ill, 
I  pray  thee  by  tfry  love  be  wise 
A$d  do  the  jbhing  which  I  advise. 
Assuage  tqy  fruitless  wrath,  and  shun 
The  mightier  arms  of  Kaghu's  son  ; 
For  Indra's  peer  in  might  is  he, 
A  foe  too  strong,  my  lord,  for  thee.' 

CANTO  XVI. 


THE  FALL  OF  BALI. 

Thus  Tara  with  the  starry  eyes1 
Her  counsel  gave  with  burning  sighs, 
But  Bali,  by  her  prayers  unmoved, 
Spurned  her  advice,  and  thus  reproved  : 
•*  How  may  this  insult,  scathe,  and  scorn 
By  me,  dear  love,  be  tamely  born  ? 
My  brother,  yea  my  foe,  comes  nigh 
And  dares  ine  forth  with  shout  and  cry. 
Learn,  trembler !  that  the  valiant,  they 
Who  yield  no  step  in  battle  fray, 
Will  die  a  thousand  deaths  but  ne'er 
An  unavenged  dishonour  bear. 
Nor,  O  my  love,  be  thou  dismayed 
Though  Rama  lend  Sugriva  aid  ; 
For  one  so  pure  and  duteous,  one 
Who  loves  the  right,  all  sin  will  shun, 
Release  me  from  thy  soft  embrace, 
And  with  thy  dames  thy  steps  retrace ; 
Enough  already,  O  mine  own, 
Of  love  and  sweet  devotion  shown. 
Drive  all  thy  fear  and  doubt  away  ; 
1  seek  Sugriva  in  the  fray 
His  boisterous  rage  and  pride  to  still, 
And  tame  the  foe  I  would  not  kill. 
My  fury,  armed  with  brandished  trees, 
Shall  strike  Sugriva  to  his  knees : 

1  The  conflagration  which  destroys  the        1  Tara  means  'star'.    The  poet  plays 
world  at  the  end  of  a  Yuga  or  age.  !  upon  the  name  by  comparing  her  beauty 

2  Himalaya.  to  that  of  the  Lord  of  Stars,  the  Moon. 


Canto  XV 71. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


343 


Nor  shall  the  humbled  foe  withstand 
The  blows  of  ray  avenging  hand, 
When,  nerved  by  rage  and  pride,  I  beat 
The  traitor  down  beneath  my  feet. 
Thou,  love,  hast  lent  thine  own  sweet  aid, 
And  all  thy  tender  care  displayed  ; 
Now  by  my  life,  by  these  who  yearn 
To  serve  thee  well,  I  pray  thee  turn. 
But  for  a  while,  dear  dame,  I  go 
Tp  come  triumphant  o'er  the  foe.' 

Thus  Bali  spake  in  gentlest  tone  : 
Soft  arms  about  his  neck  were  thrown  ; 
Then  round  her  lord  the  lady  went 
With  sad  steps  slow  and  reverent. 
She  stood  in  solemn  guise  to  bless 
With  prayers  for  safety  and  success, 
Then  with  her  train  her  chamber  sought 
By  grief  and  racking  fear  distraught. 

With  serpent's  pantings  fierce  and  fast 
King  Bali  from  the  city  passed. 
His  glance,  as  each  quick  breath  he  drew, 
Around  to  find  the  foe  he  threw, 
And  saw  where  tierce  Sugriva  showed 
His  form  with  golden  hues  that  glowed, 
And,  as  a  fire  resplendent,  stayed 
To  meet  his  foe  in  arms  arrayed. 
When  Bali,  long-armed  chieftain,  found 
Sugriva  stationed  on  the  ground, 
Impelled  by  warlike  rage  he  braced 
His  warrior  garb  about  his  waist, 
And  with  his  mighty  arm  raised  high 
Hushed  at  Sugriva  with  a  cry. 
But  when  Sugriva,  fierce  and  bold, 
Saw  Bali  with  his  chain  of  gold, 
His  arm  he  heaved,  his  hand  he  closed, 
And  face  to  face  his  foe  opposed. 
To  him  whose  eyes  with  fury  shone, 
In  charge  impetuous  rushing  on, 
Skilled  in  each  warlike  art  and  plan, 
Bali  with  hasty  words  began  : 

*  My  ponderous  hand,  to  fight  addressed, 
With  fingers  clenched  and  tinn  compressed, 
Shall  on  thy  death-doomed  brow  descend 
And,  crashing  down,  thy  life  shall  end.' 
He  spoke;  and,  wild  with  rage  and  pride, 
The  fierce  Sugriva  thus  replied: 

*  Thus  let  my  "arm  begin  the  strife 
And  from  thy  body  crush  the  life.' 

Then  Bali,  wounded  and  enraged, 
With  furious  blows  the  battle  waged, 
Sugriva  seemed,  with  blood-streams  dyed, 
A  hill  with  fountains  in  his  side. 
But  with  his  native  force  unspent 
A  Sal  tree  from  the  earth  he  rent, 
And  like  the  bolt  of  Indra  smote 
On  Bali'g  head  and  chest  and  throat. 
Bruised  by  the  blows  he  could  not  shield, 
Half  vanquished  Bali  sank  and  reeled, 
Ag  sinks  a  vessel  with  her  freight 
Borne  down  by  overwhelming  weight. 
23 


Swift  as  Suparna's1  swiftest  flight 

In  awful  strength  they  rushed  to  fight  : 

So  might  the  sun  and  moon  on  high 

Encountering  battle  in  the  sky. 

Fierce  and  more  tierce,  as  fought  the  foes, 

The  furious  rage  of  combat  rose. 

They  warred  with  feet  and  arms  and  knees, 

With  nails  and  stones  and   boughs  and 

trees, 

And  blows  descending  fast  as  rain 
Dyed  each  dark  form  with  crimson  stain, 
While  like  two  thunder-clouds  they  met 
With  battle-cry  and  shout  and  threat, 
Then  Rama  saw  Sugriva  quail, 
Marked  his  worn  strength  grow  weak  and 

fail, 

Saw  how  he  turned  his  wistful  eye 
To  every  quarter  of  the  sky. 
His  friend's  defeat  he  could  not  brook, 
Bent  on  his  shaft  an  eager  look, 
Then  burned  to  slay  the  conquering  foe, 
And  laid  his  arrow  on  the  bow. 
As  to  an  orb  the  bow  he  drew 
Forth  from  the  string  the  arrow  flew 
Like  Fate's  tremendous  discus  hurled 
By  Yama2  fortli  to  end  the  world. 
So  loud  the  din  that  every  bird 
The  bow-string's  clan?  with  terror  heard, 
And  wildly  fled  the  affrighted  deer 
As  though  the  day  of  doom  were  near. 
So,  deadly  as  the  serpent's  fang, 
Forth  from  the  string  the  arrow  sprang. 
Like  the  red  lightning's  flash  and  rfame 
It  flew  unerring  to  its  aim, 
And,  hissing  murder  through  the  air, 
Pierced  Bali's  breast,  and  quivered  there. 
Struck  by  the  shaft  that  flew  so  well 
The  mighty  Vanar  reeled  and  fell, 
As  earthward  Indra's  flag  they  pull 
When  Asvini'd  fair  moon  is  full.3 


CANTO  XVII. 


BALI'S  SPEECH. 

Like  some  proud  tree  before  the  blast 
Brave  Bali  to  the  ground  was  cast, 
Where  prostrate  in  the  dust  he  rolled 
Clad  in  the  sheen  of  glistering  gold, 

1  Suparna,  the  Well-winged,  is  another 
name  of  Garuda  the  King  of  Birds.    See 
p.  28,  Note. 

2  The  God  of  Death. 

3  The  flag-staff  erected  in  honour  of  the 
God  Indra  is  lowered  when  the  festival  is 
over.    Asvini  in  astronomy  is  the  head  of 
Aries  or  the  first  of  the  twenty-eight  lunar 
mansions  or 


344 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  IV. 


As  when  uptorn  the  standard  lies 

Of  the  great  God  who  rules  the  skies. 

When  low  upon  the  earth  was  laid 

The  lord  whom  Vanar  tribes  obeyed, 

Dark  as  a  moonless  sky  no  more 

His  land  her  joyous  aspect  wore. 

Though  low  in  dust  and  mire  was  rolled 

The  form  of  Bali  lofty -scaled, 

Still  life  and  valour,  might  and  grace 

Clung  to  their  well-loved  dwelling-place. 

That  golden  chain  with  rich  gems  set, 

The  choicest  gift  of  Sakra,1  yet 

Preserved  his  life  nor  let  decay 

Steal  strength  and  beauty's  light  away. 

Still  from  that  chain  divinely  wrought 

His  dusky  form  a  glory  caught, 

As  a  dark  cloud,  when  day  is  done, 

Made  splendid  by  the  dying  sun. 

As  fell  the  hero,  crushed  in  right, 

There  beamed  afar  a  triple  light 

From  limbs,  from  chain,  from  shaft  that 

drank 

His  life-blood  as  the  warrior  sank. 
The  never-failing  shaft,  impelled 
By  the  great  bow  which  Bam  a  held, 
Brought  bliss  supreme,  and  lit  the  way 
To  Brahma's  worlds  which  ne'er  decay. * 

Rama  and  Lakshman  nearer  drew 
The  mighty  fallen  foe  to  view, 
Mahendra's  son.  the  brave  and  bold, 
The  monarch  with  his  chain  of  gold, 
With  lustrous  face  and  tawny  eyes, 
Broad  chi-st,  and  arms  of  wondrous  size, 
Like  Lord  Mahendra  tierce  in  fight, 
Or  Vishnu's  never-conquered  might, 
Now  fallen  like  Yayati3  sent 
From  heaven,  his  store  of  merit  spent, 
Like  the  bright  flame  that  pales  and  dies, 
Like  the  great  sun  who  fires  the  skies, 
Doomed  in  the  general  doom  to  fall 
When  time  shall  end  and  ruin  all. 

The  wounded  Bali,  when  he  saw 
Rama  and  Lakshman  nearer  draw. 
Keen  words  to  Raghu's  son,  impressed 
With  justice'  holy  stamp,  addressed  : 

*  What  fame,  from  one  thou  hast  not 
slain 


1  Indra  the  father  of  Bali. 

*  It  is  believed  that  every  creature  killed 
by  Rama  obtained  in  consequence  imme- 
diate beatitude. 

'  And  blessed  the  hand  that  gave  se  dear 
a  death.' 

3  "  Yayati  was  invited  to  heaven  by 
Indra,  and  conveyed  on  the  way  thither 
by  Matali,  Indra's  charioteer.  He  after- 
wards returned  to  earth  where,  by  his 
virtuous  administration  he  rendered  all  his 
subjects  exempt  from  passion  and  decay." 
GAKRETT'S  C.  D.  OP  INDIA. 


In  front  of  battle,  canst  thou  gain, 
Whose  secret  hand  has  laid  me  low 
When  madly  lighting  with  my  foe  ? 
From  every  tongue  thy  glory  rings, 
A  scion  of  a  line  of  kings. 
True  to  thy  vows,  of  noblest  race, 
With  every  gentle  gift  and  grace  : 
Whose  tender  heart  for  woe  can  feel, 
And  joy  in  every  creature's  weal  : 
Whose  breast  with  high  ambition  swells, 
Knows  duty's  claim  and  ne'er  rebels. 
They  praise  thy  valour,  patience,  ruth, 
Thy  firmness,  self -restrain,  and  truth  : 
Thy  hand  prepared  for  sin's  control, 
All  virtues  of  a  princely  soul. 
]  thought  of  all  these  gifts  of  thine. 
And  glories  of  an  ancient  line, 
I  set  my  Tara's  tears  at  naught, 
I  met  Sugriva  and  we  fought. 

0  Rama,  till  this  fatal  morn 

1  held  that  thou  wouldst  surely  scorn 
To  strike  me  as  I  fought  my  foe 
And  thought  not  of  a  stranger's  blow. 
But  now  thine  evil  heart  is  shown, 

A  yawning  well  with  grass  o'ergrown. 

Thou  wearest  virtue's  badge,1  but  guile 

And  meanest  sin  thy  soul  defile. 

I  took  thee  not  for  treacherous  fire, 

A  sinner  clad  in  saint's  attire  ; 

Nor  deemed  thou  idly  wouldst  profess 

The  show  and  garb  of  righteousness. 

In  fenced  town,  in  open  land, 

Ne'er  hast  thou  suffered  at  this  hand, 

Nor  canst  of  proud  contempt  complain  : 

Then  wherefore  is  the  guiltless  slain  ? 

My  harmless  life  in  woods  I  lead, 

On  forest  fruits  and  roots  I  feed. 

My  f  oeman  in  the  field  I  sought, 

And  ne'er  with  thee,  O  Rama,  fought. 

Upon  thy  limbs,  O  King,  I  see 

The  raiment  of  a  devotee  ; 

And  how  can  one  like  thee,  who  springs 

From  a  proud  line  of  ancient  kings, 

Beneath  fair  virtue's  mask,  disgrace 

His  lineage  by  a  deed  so  base  ? 

From  Raghu  is  thy  long  descoit, 

For  duteous  deeds'preeminent  : 

Why,  sinner  clad  in  saintly  dress, 

Roamest  thou  through  the  wilderness  f 

Truth,  valour,  justice  free  from  spot, 

The  hand  that  gives  and  grudges  not, 

The  might  that  strikes  the  sinner  down, 

These  bring  a  prince  his  best  renown. 

Here  in  the  woods,  0  King,  we  live 

On  roots  and  fruit  which  branches  give.* 


1  The  ascetic's  dress  which  he  wore 
during  his  exile. 

*  There  is  much  inconsistency  in  the 
passages  of  the  poem  in  which  the  Vanara 
are  spoken  of,  which  seems  to  poiut  to  two 


Canto  XVI I. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


345 


Thus  nature  framed  our  harmless  race  : 
Thou  art  a  man  supreme  in  place. 
Silver  and  gold  and  land  provoke 
The  fierce  attack,  the  robber's  stroke. 
Canst  thou  desire  this  wild  retreat, 
The  berries  and  the  fruit  we  eat  ? 
'Tis  not  for  mighty  kings  to  tread 
The  flowery  path,  by  pleasure  led. 
Theirs  be  the  arm  that  crushes  sin, 
Theirs  the  soft  grace  to  woo  and  win: 
The  steadfast  will  that  guides  the  state, 
Wise  favour  to  the  good  and  great ; 
And  for  all  time  are  kings  renowned 
Who  blend  these  arts  and  ne'er  confound 
But  thou  art  weak  and  swift  to  ire, 
Unstable,  slave  of  each  desire. 
Thou  tramplest  duty  in  the  dust, 
And  in  thy  bow  is  all  thy  trust. 
1  hou  carest  naught  for  noble  gain, 
And  treatest  virtue  with  disdain, 
While  every  sense  its  captive  draws 
To  follow  pleasure's  changing  laws. 
I  wronged  thee  not  in  word  or  deed, 
But  by  thy  deadly  dart  I  bleed. 
What  wilt  thou,  mid  the  virtuous,  say 
To  purge  thy  lasting  stain  away  ? 
All  these,  O  King,  must  sink  to  hell, 
The  regicide,  the  infidel, 
He  who  in  blood  and  slaughter  joys, 
A  Brahman  or  a  cow  destroys, 
Untimely  weds  in  law's  despite 
Scorning  an  elder  brother's  right,1 
Who  dares  his  Teacher's  bed  ascend, 
The  miser,  spy,  and  treacherous  friend. 
These  impious  wretches,  one  and  all, 
Must  to  the  hell  of  sinners  fall. 
My  skin  the  holy  may  not  wear, 
Useless  to  thee  my  bones  and  hair  ; 
Nor  may  my  slaughtered  body  be 
The  food  of  devotees  like  thee. 
These  five-toed  things  a  man  may  slay 
And  feed  upon  the  fallen  prey  ; 
The  mailed  rhinoceros  may  die, 
And,  with  the  hare  his  food  supply. 
Iguanas  he  may  kill  and  eat, 


widely  different  legends.  The  Vanars  are 
generally  represented  as  semi-divine  beings 
with  preternatural  powers,  living  in  houses 
and  eating  and  drinking  like  men,  some- 
times as  here,  as  monkeys  pure  and  simple, 
living  in  woods  and  eating  fruit  and  roots. 

1  For  a  younger  brother  to  marry  before 
the  elder  is  a  gross  violation  of  Indian 
law  and  duty.  The  same  law  applied  to 
daughters  with  the  Hebrews  :  "  It  must 
not  be  so  done  in  our  country  to  give  the 
younger  before  the  first-burn."  GENESIS. 
.  26, 


With  porcupine  and  tortoise  meat.1 

But  all  the  wise  account  it  sin 

To  touch  my  bones  and  hair  and  skin. 

My  flesh  they  may  not  eat ;  and  I 

A  useless  prey,  O  Rama,  die. 

In  vain  my  Tara  reasoned  well, 

On  dull  deaf  ears  her  counsel  fell. 

J  scorned  her  words  though  sooth  and  sweet, 

And  hither  rushed  my  fate  to  meet. 

Ah  for  the  land  thou  rulest !  she 

Finds  no  protection,  lord,  from  thee, 

Neglected  like  some  noble  dame 

By  a  vile  husband  dead  to  shame. 

Mean -hearted  coward,  false  and  vile, 

Whose  cruel  soul  delights  in  guile, 

Could  Dasaratha,  noblest  king, 

Beget  so  mean  and  base  a  thing  ? 

Alas  !  an  elephant,  in  form 

Of  Rama,  in  a  maddening  storm 

Of  passion  casting  to  the  ground 

The  girth  of  law2  that  clipped  him  round, 

Too  wildly  passionate  to  feel 

The  prick  of  duty's  guiding  steel,5 

Has  charged  me  unawares,  and  dead 

I  fall  beneath  his  murderous  tread. 

How,  stained  with  this  my  base  defeat, 

How  wilt  thou  dare,  where  good  men  meet, 

To  speak,  when  every  tongue  will  blame 

With  keen  reproach  this  deed  of  shame  ? 

Such  hero  strength  and  valour,  shown 

Upon  the  innocent  alone, 

Thou  hast  not  proved  in  manly  strife 

On  him  who  robbed  thee  of  thy  wife. 

Hadst  thou  but  fought  in  open  field 

And  met  me  boldly  unconcealed, 

This  day  had  been  thy  fate  to  fall, 

Slain  by  this  hand,  to  Yama's  hall. 

In  vain  I  strove,  and  struck  by  thee 

Fell  by  a  hand  1  could  not  see. 

Thus  bites  a  snake,  for  sins  of  yore, 

A  sleeping  man  who  wakes  no  more. 

Sugriva's  foeman  thou  hast  killed, 

And  thus  his  heart's  desire  fulfilled  : 

But,  Rama,  hadst  thou  sought  me  first, 

And  told  the  hope  thy  soul  has  nursed, 

That  very  day  had  I  restored 

The  Maithil  lady  to  her  lord  ; 

And,  binding  Ravan  with  a  chain, 

Had  laid  him  at  thy  feet  unslain. 


1  "  The  hedgehog  and    porcupine,   the 
lizard,  the  rhinoceros,  the  tortoise,  and  the 
rabbit  or  hare,  wise  legislators  delare  law- 
ful food  among  five-toed  animals." 

MANU,  v.  18. 

2  "  He  can  not  buckle  his  distempered 

cause 
Within  the  belt  of  rule."      MACBETH% 

3  The  A-nkus  or  iron  hook  with  which 
an  elephant  is  driven  and  guided. 


346 


THE  RAM  AY  AX. 


Boo*  IV. 


Yea,  were  she  sunk  in  deepest  hell, 

Or  whelmed  beneath  the  ocean's  swell, 

I  would  have  followed  on  her  track 

And  brought  the  rescued  lady  back, 

As  Hayagriva1  once  set  free 

From  hell  the  white  Asvatari.8 

That  when  my  spirit  wings  its  flight 

Sugriva  reign,  is  just  and  right. 

But  mo.st  unjust,  O  King,  that  I, 

Slain  by  thy  treacherous  hand,  should  lie. 

Be  still,  my  heart:  this  earthly  state 

Is  darkly  ruled  by  sovereign  Fate. 

The  realm  is  lost  and  won  :  def  y 

Thy  questioners  with  apt  reply.'3 


CANTO  XVIII. 


KAMA'S  REPLY. 

He  ceased  :  and  Rama's  heart  was  stirred 
At  every  keen  reproach  he  heard. 
There  Bali  lay,  a  dim  dark  sun, 
His  course  of  light  and  glory  run  : 
Or  hke  the  bed  of  Ocean  dried 
Of   his  broad  floods  from  side  to  side, 
or  l)elpless,  as  the  dying  tire, 
Hushed  his  last  words  of  righteous  ire. 
Then  Rama,  with  his  spirit  moved, 
The  Vanar  king  in  turn  reproved  : 
'  Why  dost  tl)ou  Bali,  thus  revile, 
And  castest  not  a  glance  the  whije 
On  claims  of  duty,  love,  and  gain, 
And  customs  o'er  the  world  that  reign  ? 
Why  dost  thou  blame  me,  rash  and  blind, 
Fickle  as  all  thy  Vanar  kind. 
Slighting  each  rule  of  ancient  days 
Which  all  the  good  and  prudent  praise? 
Phis  land,  each  hill  and  woody  chase, 
Belongs  to  old  Ikshvaku's  race  : 

1  Hayagriva,  Horse-necked,  is  a  form 
3f  Vishnu. 

3  "  4svatara  is  the  name  of  a  chief  of 
/he  Nagas  or  serpents  which  inhabit  the 
•egions  under  the  earth  ;  it  is  also  the 
lame  of  a  Gandharva.  4-svatari  ought 
o  be  the  wife  of  one  of  the  two,  but  1  am 
iot  sure  that  this  conjecture  is  right.  The 
'oinraentator  does  not  say  who  this  Asva- 
ari  is,  or  what  tradition  or  myth  is  al- 
uded  to.  Yimalabodha  reads  Asvatari 
n  the  nominative  case,  and  explains,  Asva- 
ari  is  the  sun,  and  as  the  sun  with  his 
ays  brings  back  the  moon  which  has  been 
unk  in  the  ocean  and  the  infernal  regions, 
o  will  I  bring  back  Sita."  GoRRESio. 

3  That  if,  '  Consider  what  answer  37ou 
an  give  to  your  accusers  when  they 
barge  you  with  injustice  ill  killing  me,: 


With  bird  and  beast  and  man,  the  whole 

Is  ours  to  cherish  and  control. 

Now  Bbarat,  prompt  at  duty's  call, 

Wise,  just,  and  true,  is  lord  of  all. 

Each  claim  of  law,  love,  gain  he  knows, 

And  wrath  and  favour  duly  shows. 

A  king  from  truth  who  never  bends. 

And  grace  with  vigour  wisely  blends  ; 

With  valour  worthy  of  his  race, 

He  knows  the  claims  of  time  and  place. 

Now  we  and  other  kings  of  might, 

By  his  ensample  taught  aright, 

The  lands  of  every  region  tread 

That  justice  may  increase  and  spread. 

While  royal  Bharat,  wise  and  just, 

Rules  the  broad  earth,  his  glorious  trust, 

Who  shall  attempt,  while  he  is  lord, 

A  deed  by  Justice  held  abhorred  ? 

We  now,  as  Bharat  has  decreed, 

Let  justice  guide  our  every  deed, 

And  toil  each  sinner  to  repress 

Who  scorns  the  way  of  righteousness. 

Thou  from  that  path  hast  turned  aside, 

A.nd  virtue's  holy  law  defied. 

Left  the  fair  path  which  kin^s  should  tread, 

And  followed  pleasure's  voice  instead. 

The  man  who  cleaves  to  duty's  law 

Regards  these  three  with  h'lial  awe— 

The  sire,  the  elder  brother,  third 

Him  from  whose  lips  his  lore  he  heard. 

Thus  too,  for  duty's  sake,  the  wise 

.Regard  with  fond  paternal  eyes 

The  well-loved  younger  brother,  one 

Their  lore  has  ripened,  and  a  son. 

Fine  are  the  laws  which  guide  the  good, 

Abstruse,  and  hardly  understood  : 

Only  the  soul,  enthroned  within 

The  breast  of  each,  knows  right  from  sin, 

But  thou  art  wild  and  weak  of  soul, 

And  spurnest,  like  thy  race,  control  ; 

The  true  and  right  thou  canst  not  find. 

The  blind  consulting  with  the  blind. 

Incline  thine  ear  and  I  will  teach 

The  cause  that  prompts  my  present  speech. 

This  tempest  of  thy  soul  assuage, 

Nor  blame  me  in  thine  idle  rage. 

On  this  great  sin  thy  thoughts  bestow, 

The  sin  for  wtyich  I  lay  thee  low. 

Thou,  Bali,  in  thy  brother's  life 

Hast  robbed  him  of  his  wedded  wife, 

And  keepest,  scorning  ancient  right, 

His  Ruma  for  thine  own  delight. 

Thy  son's  own  wife  should  scarcely  be 

More  sacred  in  thine  eyes  than  she. 

AH  duty  thou  hast  scorned,  and  hence 

Comes  punishment  for  dire  offence. 

For  those  who  blindly  c]o  amiss 

There  is,  I  ween,  no  way  but  this  : 

To  check  the  rash  who  dare  to  stray 

From  customs  which  the  good  obey, 

I  may  nut,  sprung  o.t  iishatriya  lines 


Canto  XVf/I. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


347 


Forgive  this   heinous  sin  of  thine  : 
The' laws  for  those  who  sin  like  thee 
The  penalty  of  death  decree. 
Now  Bharat  rules  with  sovereign  sway, 
And  we  his  royal  word  obey. 
There  was  no  hope  of  pardon,  none, 
For  the  vile  deed  that  thou  hast  done, 
That  wisest  monarch  dooms  to  die. 
The  wretch  whose  crimes  the  law  defy  ; 
And  we,  chastising  those  who  err, 
His  righteous  doom  administer. 
My  soul  accounts  Sugriva  dear 
E'en  as  my  brother  Lakshman  here. 
He  brings  me  blessing,  and  I  swore 
His  wife  and  kingdom  to  restore  : 
A  bond  in  solemn  honour  bound 
When  Vanar  chieftains  stood  around. 
And  can  a  king  like  me  forsake 
His  friend,  and  plighted  promise  break  ? 
Reflect,  O  Vanar,  on  the  cause, 
The  sanction  of  eternal  laws, 
And,  justly  smitten  down,  confess 
Thou  diest  for  thy  wickedness. 
By  honour  was  1  bound  to  lend 
Assistance  to  a  faithful  friend; 
And  thou  hast  met  a  righteous  fate 
Thy  former  sins  to  expiate. 
And  thus  wilt  thou  some  merit  win 
And  make  atonement  for  thy  sin. 
Fofc*  hear  me,  Vanar  King,  rehearse 
What  Manu1  spake  in  ancient  verse, — 
This  holy  law,  which  all  accept 
Who  honour  duty,  have  I  kept  : 
'  Pure  grow  the  sinners  kings  chastise, 
And,  like  the  virtuous,  gain  the  skies; 
By  pain  or  full  atonement  freed, 
They  reap  the  fruit  of  righteous  deed, 
While  kings  who  punish  not  incur 
The  penalties  of  those  who  err.' 
Mandhata*  once,  a  noble  king, 
Light  of  the  line  from  which  I  spring, 
Punished  with  death  a  devotee 
When  he  had  stooped  to  sin  like  thee ; 
And  many  a  king  in  ancient  time 
Has  punished  frantic  sinners'  crime, 
And,  when  their  impious  blood  was  spilt, 
Has  washed  away  the  stain  of  guilt. 
Cease,  Bali,  cease  :  no  more  complain : 
Reproaches  and  laments  are  vain, 
For  thou  art  justly  punished  :  we 
Obey  our  king  and  are  not  free. 
Once  more,  O  Bali,  lend  thine  ear 

1  Manu,  Book  VIII.  318.  "But men  who 
have  committed  offences  and  have  received 
from  kings  the  punishment  due  to  them, 
go  pure  to  heaven  and  become  as  clear  as 
those  who  have  done  well." 

a  Mandhata  was  one  of  the  earlier  des- 
cendants of  Ikshvaku.  His  name  is  men- 
tioned in  llama's  genealogy,  p,  81, 


Another  weightiest  plea  to  hear. 
For  this,  when  heard  and  pondered  well, 
Will  all  complaint  and  rage  dispel. 
My  soul  will  ne'er  this  deed  repent, 
Nor  was  my  shaft  in  anger  sent. 
We  take  the  silvan  tribes  beset 
With  snare  and  trap  and  gin  and  net, 
And  many  a  heedless  deer  we  smite 
From  thickest  shade,  concealed  from  sight. 
Wild  for  the  slaughter  of  the  game, 
At  stately  stags  our  shafts  we  aim. 
We  strike  them  bounding  scared  away, 
We  strike  them  as  they  stand  at  bay, 
When  careless  in  the  shade  they  lie, 
Or  scan  the  plain  with  watchful  eye. 
They  turn  away  their  heads :  we  aim, 
And  none  the  eager  hunter  blame. 
Each  royal  saint,  well  trained  in  law 
Of  duty,  loves  his  bow  to  draw 
And  strike  the  quarry*  e'en  as  thou 
Hast  fallen  by  mine  arrow  now, 
Fighting  with  him  or  unaware, — 
A  Vanar  thou.— I  little  care.1 
But  yet,  O  best  of  Vanars,  know 
That  kings  who  rule  the  earth  bestow 
Fruit  of  pure  life  and  virtuous  deed> 
And  lofty  duty's  hard- won  meed* 
Harm  not  thy  lord  the  king:  abstain 
From  act  and  word  that  cause  him  pain  ; 
For  kings  are  children  of  the  skies 
Who  walk  this  earth  in  men's  disguise. 
But  thou,  in  duty's  claims  untaught, 
Thy  breast  with  blinding  passion  fraught, 
Assailest  me  who  still  have  clung 
To  duty,  with  thy  bitter  tongue.' 

He  ceased  :  and  Bali  sore  distressed 
The  sovereign  claims  of  law  confessed, 
And    freed,  o'erwhelmed  with  woe  and 

shame. 

The  lord  of  Raghu's  race  from  blame. 
Then,  reverent  palm  to  palm  applied, 
To  Rama  thus  trie  Vanar  cried  : 
1  True,  best  of  men,  is  every  word 
That  from  thy  lips  these  ears  have  heard, 
It  ill  beseems  a  wretch  like  me 
To  bandy  empty  words  with  thee. 
Forgive  the  angry  taunts  that  broke 
From  my  wild  bosom  as  I  spoke. 
And  lay  not  to  my  charge,  0  King, 


1  I  cannot  understand  how  Valmlki 
could  put  such  an  excuse  as  this  into 
Rama's  mouth.  Rama  with  all  solemn 
ceremony,  has  made  a  league  of  alliance 
with  Bali's  younger  brother  whom  he 
regards  as  a  dear  friend  and  almost  as  an 
equal,  and  now  he.  winds  up  his  reasons 
for  killing  Bali  by  coolly  saying :  '  Besides 
you  are  only  a  monKey,  you  know,  after 
all,  and  as  such  I  have  every  right  to  kill 
you  how,  when,  and  where  I  like.' 


348 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


fiook  JV. 


My  mad  reproaches'  idle  sting. 
Thou,  in  the  truth  by  trial  trained, 
Best  knowledge  of  the  right  hast  gained  : 
And  layest,  just  and  pure  within, 
The  meetest  penalty  on  sin, 
Through  every  bond  of  law  I  burst, 
The  boldest  sinner  and  the  worst. 
O  let  thy  right-instructing  speech 
Console  my  heart  and  wisely  teach.' 

Like  some  sad  elephant  who  stands 
Fast  sinking  in  the  treacherous  sands, 
Thus  Bali  raised  despairing  eyes  ; 
Then  spake  again  with  sobs  and  sighs  : 

'  Not  for  myself,  O  King,  I  grieve, 
For  Tara  or  the  friends  I  leave, 
As  for  sweet  Angad,  my  dear  son, 
My  noble,  only  little  one. 
For,  nursed  in  luxury  and  bliss, 
His  father  he  will  mourn  and  miss, 
And  like  a  stream  whose  fount  is  dry 
Will  waste  away  and  sink  and  die,— 
My  own  dear  child,  my  only  boy, 
His  mother  Taras  hope  and  joy. 
Spare  him,  O  son  of  Raghu,  spare 
The  child  entrusted  to  thy  care. 
My  Angad  and  Sugriva  treat 
E'en  as  thy  heart  considers  meet, 
For  thou,  O  chief  of  men,  art  strong 
To  guard  the  right  and  punish  wrong. 
O,  if  thou  wilt  thine  ear  incline 
To  hear  these  dying  words  of  mine, 
He  and  Sugriva  will  to  thee 
As  Bharat  and  as  Lakshman  be. 
Let  not  my  Tara,  left  forlorn, 
Weep  for  Sugriva's  wrathful  scorn  ; 
Nor  let  him,  for  her  lord's  offence, 
Condemn  her  faithful  innocence. 
And  well  and  wisely  may  he  reign 
If  thy  dear  grace  his  power  sustain : 
If,  following  thee  his  friend  and  guide, 
He  turn  not  from  thy  best  aside  ; 
Thus  may  he  reign  with  glory,  nay 
Thus  to  the  skies  will  win  his  way, 
Though  stayed  by  Tara's  fond  recall, 
By  thy  dear  hand  I  longed  to  fall. 
Against  my  brother  rushed  and  fought, 
And  gained  the  death  I  long  have  sought.' 

Then  Kama  thus  the  prince  consoled 
From  whose  clear  eyes  the  mists  were  rolled : 
'  Grieve  not  for  those  thou  leavest  thus, 
Nor  tremble  for  thyself  or  us, 
For  we  will  deal  with  thine  and  thee 
As  duty  and  the  laws  decree. 
He  who  exacts  and  he  who  pays, 
Is  justly  slain  or  justly  slays, 
Shall  in  the  life  to  come  have  bliss  ; 
For  each  has  done  his  task  in  this. 
Thou,  wandering  from  the  right,  art  made 
Pure  by  the  forfeit  thou  hast  paid, 
Thy  weight  of  sins  is  cast  aside, 
And  duty's  claim  is  satisfied, 


Then  grieve  no  more,  O  Prince,  but  clear 
Thy  bosom  from  all  doubt  and  fear, 
For  fate,  inexorably  stern, 
Thou  hast  no  power  to  move  or  turn. 
Thy  princely  Angad  still  will  share 
My  tender  love,  Sugriva's  care  ; 
Arid  to  thy  offspring  shall  be  shown 
Affection  that  shall  match  thine  own.' 


CANTO  XIX. 


TARA'S  GRIEF. 

No  answer  gave  the  Vanar  king 
To  Rama's  prudent  counselling. 
Battered  and  bruised  by  tree  and  stone, 
By  Rama's  arrow  overthrown, 
Fainting  upon  the  ground  he  lay, 
Gasping  his  troubled  life  away. 
But  Tara  in  the  Vanar's  hall 
Heard  tidings  of  her  husband's  fall  ; 
Heard  that  a  shaft  from  Rama's  bow 
Had  laid  the  royal  Bali  low. 
Her  darling  Angad  by  her  side, 
Distracted  from  her  home  she  hied. 
Then  nigh  the  place  of  battle  drew 
The  Vanars,  Angad's  retinue. 
They  saw  the  bow- armed  Rama  :  dread 
Fell  on  them,  and  they  turned  and  fled. 
Like  helpless  deer,  their  leaders  slain, 
So  wildly  fled  the  startled  train. 
But  Tar£  saw,  and  nearer  pressed. 
And  thus  the  flying  band  addressed  : 

*  O  Vanars,  ye  who  ever  stand 
About  our  king,  a  trusty  band, 
Where  is  the  lion  master  ?  why 
Forsake  ye  thus  your  lord  and  fly  ? 
Say,  lies  he  dead  upon  the  plain, 
A  brother  by  a  brother  slain, 

Or  pierced  by  shafts  from  Rama's  bow 
That  rain  from  far  upon  the  foe  ?' 

Thus  Tara  questioned,  and  was  still : 
Then,  wearers  of  each  shape  at  will, 
The  Vanars  thus  with  one  accord 
Answered  the  Lady  of  their  lord  : 

*  Turn,  Tara  turn,  and  half  undone 
Save  Angad  thy  beloved  son. 

Tnere  Rama  stands  in  death's  disguise, 
And  conquered  Bali  faints  and  dies. 
He  by  whose  strong  arm,  thick  and  fast, 
Uprooted  trees  and  rocks  were  cast, 
Lies  smitten  by  a  shaft  that  came 
Resistless  as  the  lightning  flame. 
When  he,  whose  splendour  once  could  vie 
With  Indra's,  regent  of  the  sky, 
Fell  by  that  deadly  arrow,  all 
The  Vanars  fled  who  marked  his  fall. 
Let  all  our  chiefs  their  succours  bring, 
And  Angad  be  anointed  king  ; 


Canto  XX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


349 


For  all  who  corae  of  Vanar  race 

Will  serve  him  set  in  Bali's  place. 

Or  else  our  conquering  foes  to-day 

Within  our  wall  will  force  their  way, 

Polluting  with  their  hostile  feet 

The  chambers  of  thy  loved  retreat. 

Great  fear  is  on  us.  all  and  one. 

Those  who  have  wives  and  who  have  none, 

They  lust  for  power,  are  fierce  and  bold, 

Or  hate  us  for  the  strife  of  old.' 

She  heard  their  speech  as,  sore  afraid, 
Arrested  in  their  flight,  they  stayed, 
A  rid  gave  her  answer  as  became 
The  spirit  of  so  true  a  dame  : 
°  Nay,  what  have  I  to  do  with  pelf, 
With  son,  with  kingdom,  or  with  self, 
When  he,  my  noble  lord, who  leads 
The  Vanars'like  a  loin,  bleeds  ? 
His  high-souled  victor  will  I  meet, 
And  throw  me  prostrate  at  his  feet.' 

She  hastened  forth,  her  bosom  rent 
With  anguish,  weeping  as  she  went, 
And  .striking,  mastered  by  her  woes, 
Her  head  and  breast  with  frantic  blows. 
Siie  hurried  to  the  field  and  found 
Her  husband  postrate  on  the  ground, 
Who  quelled  the  hostile  Vanars'  might, 
Whose  back  was  never  turned  in  flight : 
Whose  arm  a  massy  rock  could  throw 
As  Indra  hurls  his  bolts  below  : 
Fierce  as  the  rushing  tempest,  loud 
As  thunder  from  a  labouring  cloud  : 
Whene'er  he  roared  his  voice  of  fear 
Struck  terror  on  the  boldest  ear: 
Now  slain,  as.  hungry  for  the  prey, 
A  tiger  might  a  lion  slay  : 
Or  when,  his  serpent  foe  to  seek, 
Suparna1   with  his  furious  beak 
Tears  up  a  sacred  hillock,  long 
The  reverence  of  a  village  throng, 
Its  altar  witli  their  offerings  spread, 
And  the  gay  flag  that  waved  o'erhead. 
She  looked  and  saw  the  victor  stand 
Resting  upon  his  bow  his  hand  : 
And  fierce  Sugriva  she  descried, 
And  Lakshman  by  Ids  brother's  side. 
{She  passed  them  by,  nor  stayed  to  view, 
Swift  to  her  husband's  side  she  flew  ; 
Then  as  she  looked,  her  strength  gave  way. 
And  in  the  dust  she  fell  and  lay. 
Then,  as  if  startled  ere  the  close 
Of  slumber,  from  the  earth  she  roae. 
Upon  her  dying  husband,  round 
Whose  soul  the  coils  of  Death  were  wound , 
Her  eyes  in  agony  she  bent 
And  called  him  with  a  shrill  lament. 
Sugriva,  when  he  heard  her  cries, 
And  saw  the  queen  with  weeping  eyes, 

1  A  name  of  Garuda  the  king  of  birds, 
the  great  enemy  of  the  Serpents. 


And  youthful  Angad  standing  there, 
iiis  load  of  grief  could  hardly  bear. 

CANTO  XX. 


TARA'S  LAMENT, 

Again  she  bent  her  to  the  ground, 
Her  arms  about  her  husband  wound. 
Sobbed  on  his  breast,  and  sick  and  faint 
With  anguish  poured  her  wild  complaint: 
Brave  in  the  charge  of  battle,  boast 
And  glory  of  the  Vaiiar  host, 
Why  on  the  cold  earth  wilt  thou  lie 
And  give  no  answer  when  1  cry  ? 
Up,  warrior,  from  thy  lowly  bed  ! 
A  meeter  couch  for  thee  is  spread. 
It  ill  beseems  a  glorious  king 
On  the  bare  ground  his  linihs  to  fling. 
Ah,  surely  must  thy  love  be  strong 
For  her  whom  thou  hast  governed  long, 
If  thou,  my  hero,  canst  recline 
On  her  cold  breast  forsaking  mine. 
Or,  famed  for  justice  through  the  land, 
Thou  on  the  road  to  heaven  hast  planned 
Some  city  fairer  far  than  this 
To  be  thy  new  metropolis. 
Are  all  our  pleasures  ended  now, 
With  those  delicious  hours  which  thou 
And  I,  dear  lord,  together  spent 
In  woods  that  breathed  the  honey's  scent  ? 
Whelmed  in  my  sorrow's  boundless  sea, 
There  is  no  joy.  no  hope,  for  me, 
When  my  beloved  lord,  who  led 
The  Vanars  to  the  fight,  is  dead, 
My  widowed  heart  is  stern  and  cold, 
Or,  at  the  sightjinine  eyes  behold, 
O'ermastered  would  it  end  this  ache 
And  in  a  thousand  fragments  break. 
Ah  noble  Vanar,  doomed  to  pay 
The  penalty  of  all  to-day— 
Sugriva  from  his  home  expelled. 
And  Riuna1  from  his  arms  withheld. 
Our  Vanar  race  and  thee  to  save, 
Wise  counsel  for  thy  weal  I  gave  ; 
But  thou,  by  wildest  folly  stirred, 
Wouldst  give  no  credence  to  my  word, 
And  now  wilt  woo  the  nymphs  above, 
And  shake  their  souls  with  pangs  of  love. 
Ah,  never  could  it  be  that  thou 
Beneath  Sugriva's  power  shouldst  bow, 
Thy  conqueror  is  none  but  Fate 
Whose  mandates  all  who  breathe  await, 
And  does  no  thrill  of  anguish  run 
Through  the  stern  breast  of  Raghu's  son, 
Whose  base  hand  dealt  a  coward's  blow, 
And  srnote  thee  fighting  with  thy  foe  ? 
lie  ft  of  my  lord  my  days,  alas  ! 

1  Sugriva's  wife. 


350 


THE 


In  bitter  bitter  woe  will  pass  : 
And  I,  long  blest  with  every  good, 
ftlust  bear  my  dreary  widowhood. 
And  when  his  uncle's  brow  is  stern, 
When  his  fierce  eyes  with  fury  burn, 
Ah,  what  will  be  my  Angad's  fate, 
So  fair  and  young  and  delicate  ? 
Come,  darling,  for  the  last  sad  sight. 
Of  thy  dear  sire  who  loved  the  right  ; 
For  soon  thine  eyes  will  long  in  vain 
A  look  at  that  loved  face  to  gain. 
And,  hero,  as  thy  child  draws  near, 
With  tender  words  his  spirit  cheer  ; 
Thy  dying  wishes  gently  speak, 
And  kiss  him  on  the  brows  and  cheek. 
High  fame,  1  ween,  has  Rama  won 
By  this  great  deed  his  hand  has  done, 
His  debt  to  brave  Sugriva  paid 
And  kept  the  promise  that  he  made. 
Be  happy.  King  Sugriva,  lord 
Of  Rum&  to  thine  arms  restored  : 
Enjoy  uninterrupted  reign, 
For  he,  thy  foe,  at  length  is  slain. 
Dost  thou  not  hear  me  speak,  and  why 
Hast  thou  no  word  of  soft  reply  ? 
Will  thou  not  lift  thine  eyes  and  see 
These  dames  who  look  to  none  but  thee  ?' 

From  their  sad  eyes,  as  Tfira  spoke, 
The  floods  of  bitter  sorrow  broke  : 
Theo,  pressing  close  to  Angad's  side, 
Each  lifted  up  her  voice  and  cried  : 

'  How  couldat  thou  leave  thine  Angad  thus, 
And  go,  for  ever  go,  from  us — 
Thy  child  so  dear  in  brave  attire, 
Graced  with  the  virtues  of  his  sire? 
If  e'er  in  want  of  thought,  O  chief, 
One  deed  of  mine  have  caused  thee  grief, 
Forgive  my  folly,  I  entreat, 
And  with  my  head  I  touch  thy  feet.1 

Again  the  hapless  Tara  wept 
As  to  her  husband's  side  she  crept, 
And  wild  with  sorrow  and  dismay 
Sat  on  the  ground  where  Bali  lay. 

CANTO  XXL 


HANUMAN'S  SPEECH. 

There,  like  a  fallen  star,  the  dame 
Fell  by  her  lord's  half  lifeless  frame  : 
And  Hanuman  drew  softly  near, 
And  strove  her  grieving  heart  to  chear  : 
*  By  changeless  law  our  bliss  and  woe 
From  ancient  worth  and  folly  rlow. 
What  fruits  soe'er  we  cull,  the  seeds 
Were  scattered  by  our  former  deeds.1 


>^V.  Book   IV 

Why  mourn  another's  mournful  fate, 

And  weep,  thyself  unfortunate  / 

Be  calm,  O  thou  whose  heart  is  wise, 

For  none  deserves  another's  sighs. 

Look  up,  with  idle  sorrow  strive  : 

Thy  child,  his  heir,  is  vet  alive. 

Let  needful  rites  be  duly  done, 

Nor  in  thy  woe  forget  thy  son. 

Regard  the  law  which  all  obey  : 

They  spring  to  life,  they  pass  away. 

Begin  the  task  that  bids  thee  rise, 

And  stay  these  tears,  fur  thou  art  wise, 

Our  lord  the  king  is  doomed  to  die, 

On  whom  leq  million  hearts  rely. 

Kind,  liberal,  patient,  true,  and  just 

Was  he  in  whom  they  place  their  trust, 

And  now  he  seeks  the  land  of  those 

Who  for  the  right  subdue  their  foes. 

Each  Vaiiar  lord  with  all  his  tram, 

Each  ranger  of  this  wild  domain, 

And  Angad  here,  thy  darling,  see 

A  governor  and  friend  in  thee. 

These  twain1  whose  hearts  witii  sorrow  ache 

The  funeral  rices  shall  undertake, 

And  Angad  by  his  mother's  care 

Be  king,  his  father's  rightful  heir. 

Now  lee  him  pay,  as  laws  requue, 

His  sacred  duty  to  his  sire, 

Nor  one  solemnity  omit 

Of  all  that  mighty  kings  betit. 

And  when  thy  loud  e)  e  sees  thine  own 

Dear  Angad  on  his  father's  throne, 

Then,  lightened  of  its  load  of  pain, 

Thy  spirit  will  have  rest  again.' 

6iie  heard  hisspeech,. she  heaved  her  head, 
Looked  upon  Hauuinun  and  said  : 

'Sweeter  my  slain  lord's  limbs  to  touch, 
Than  Angad  or  a  hundred  such. 
No  rule  or  right,  a  widowed  dame, 
O'er  Angad  or  the  realm  I  claim. 
•Sugriva  is  the  uncle,  he 
In  every  act  supreme  must  be. 
I  pray  thee,  chief,  this  plan  resign, 
Nor  claim  from  me  what  ne'er  is  mine. 
The  father  with  his  tender  care 
Guards  the  dear  child  the  mother  bare, 
Where'er  I  be,  no  sweeter  task, 
No  happier  joy  I  hope  or  ask 
Than  thus  to  sit  with  loving  eyes 
And  watch  the  bed  where  Bali  lies.' 


CANTO  XXII. 


1  "Our  deeds  still  follow  with  us  from  afar. 
And  what  we  have  been  makes  us  what 
we  are,"  * 


BALI  DEAD. 

There  breathing  still  with  slow  faint  sighs 
Lay  Bali  on  the  ground  :  his  eyes, 

1  Sugriva  and  Augad, 


Canto  XXII. 


Till:  RAMA  r/i.V. 


351 


Damp  with  the  tears  of  death,  he  raised, 
On  conquering  Sugriva  gazed, 
And  then  in  clearest  speech  expressed 
The  tender  feelings  of  his  breast: 
4  Not  to  my  chargt ,  Sugriva,  lay 
T  hi  lie  injuries  avenged  to-day  ; 
But  rather  blame  resistless  Fate 
That  urged  me  on  infuriate. 
Fate  ne'er  agreed  our  lives  to  bless 
With  simultaneous  happiness  : 
To  dwel]  like  brothers  side  by  side 
In  tender  love  was  still  denied. 
The  Vanars'  realm  is  thine  to-day  : 
Begin,  O  King,  thy  rightful  sway  ;l 
For  I  must  go  at  Varna's  call 
To  sojourn  in  his  gloomy  hall  ; 
Must  part  and  leave  this  very  hour 
My  life,  my  realm,  my  kingly  power, 
And  go  instead  of  these  to  gain 
Bright  glory  free  from  spot  and  stain. 
ftow  at  thy  hands  one  boon  I  seek 
With  the  last  words  my  lips  shall  speak, 
And,  though  it  be  no  easy  thing, 
Perform  the  task  I  give  thee,  King. 
This  son  of  mine,  no  foolish  boy, 
Worthy  of  bliss  and  nursed  in  joy, — 
See,  prostrate  on  the  ground  lie  lies, 
The  hot  tears  welling  from  his  eyes — 
The  child  1  love  so  well,  more  sweet 
Than  life  itself,  for  woe  unmeet, — 
To  him  be  kindly  favour  shown  : 
O  guard  and  keep  him  as  thine  own. 
Retain  him  ever  by  thy  side, 
His  father,  helper,  friend,  and  guide. 
From  fear  and  woe  his  young  life  save, 
And  give  him  all  his  father  gave. 
Then  Tara's  son  in  time  shall  be 
Brave,  resolute,  and  famed  like  thee, 
And  march  before  thee  to  the  right 
Where  stricken  fiends  shall  own  his  might. 
While  yet  a  tender  stripling,  fame 
Shall  bruit  abroad  his  warrior  name, 
And  brightly  shall  his  glory  shine 
For  exploits  worthy  of  his  line. 
Child  of  Sushen,*  my  Tara  well 
Obscurest  lore  can  read  and  tell  : 
And.  trained  in  wondrous  art,  divines 
Each  mystery  of  boding  signs. 
Her  solemn  warning  ne'er  despise, 
Do  boldly  what  her  lips  advise  ; 
For  things  to  come  her  eye  can  see, 
And  with  her  words  events  agree. 
And  for  the  son  of   Raghu's  sake 
The  toil  and  danger  undertake  : 


1  Angad  himself,  being  too  young  to 
govern,  would  be  Yuvaraja  or  heir- 
apparent. 

*  Sushena  was  the  son  of  Varuna  the 
God  of  the  sea, 


For  breach  of  faith  were  grievous  wrong, 
Nor  wouldst  thou  be  unpunished  long. 
Now,  brother,  take  this  chain  of  gold, 
Gift  of  celestial  hands  of  old, 
Or  when  1  die  its  charm  will  flee, 
And  all  its  might  be  lost  with  me.' 
The  loving  speech  Sugriva  heard, 
And  all  his  heart  with  woe  was  stirred. 
Kemorse  and  gentle  pity  stole 
Each  thought  of  triumph  from  his  soul : 
Thus  fades  the  light  when  Rahu1   mars 
The  glory  of  the  Lord  of  Stars.2 
All  angry  thoughts  were  staved  and  stilled 
And  kindly  love  his  bosom  rilled. 
His  brother's  word  the  chief  obeyed 
And  took  the  chain  as  Bali  prayed. 
On  little  Angad  standing  nigh 
The  dying  hero  fixed  his  eye. 
And,  ready  from  this  world  to  part, 
Spoke  the  fond  utterance  of  his  heart  : 

'Let  time  and  place  thy  thoughts  employ: 
In  woe  be  strong,  be  meek  in  joy. 
Accept  both  pain  and  pleasure,  still 
Obedient  to  Sugriva's  will. 
Thou  hast,  my  darling,  from  the  first 
With  tender  care  been  softly  nursed; 
But  harder  days,  if  thou  wouldst  \un 
ISugriva's  love,  must  now  begin. 
To  those  who  hate  him  ne'er  incline, 
Nor  count  his  foe  a  friend  of  thine. 
In  all  thy  thoughts  his  welfare  seek, 
Obedient,  lowly,  faithful,  meek. 
Let  no  rash  suit  his  bosom  pain, 
Nor  yet  from  due  requests  abstain.3 
Each  is  a  grievous  fault,  between 
The  two  is  found  the  happy  mean.' 

Then  Bali  ceased  :  his  eyeballs  rolled 
In  stress  of  anguish  uncontrolled 
His  massive  teeth  were  bared  to  view, 
And  from  the  frame  the  spirit  flew. 
Their  lord  and  leader  dead,  the  crowd 
Of  noblest  Vanars  shrieked  aloud: 
'  Since  thou,  O  King,  hast  sought  the  skies 
All  desolate  Kishkindba  lies. 
Her  woods,  where  Vanars  loved  to  rove, 
Are  empty  now,  and  hill  and  grove. 
From  every  eye  the  light  is  fled, 
Since  thou,  our  mighty  lord,  art  dead. 
Thine  was  the  unwearied  arm  that  bore 
The  brunt  of  deadly  right  of  yore 
With  Golabh  the  Gandharva,  when, 
Lasting  through  five  long  years  and  ten, 

1  A  demon  with  the  tail  of  a  dragon, 
that  causes   eclipses  by  endeavouring  to 
swallow  the  sun  and  moon. 

*  The  Lord  of  Stars  is  the  Moon. 

3  Or  the  passage  may  be  interpreted : 
'  Be  neither  to  obsequious  or  affectionate, 
nor  wanting  in  due  respect  or  love.' 


352 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  IV. 


The  dreadful  conflict  knew  no  stay 
In  gloom  of  night,  in  glare  of  day; 
And  when  the  fifteenth  year  had  past 
Thy  dire  opponent  fell  at  last. 
If  such  a  foeman  fell  beneath 
Our  hero's  arm  and  awful  teeth 
Who  freed  us  from  our  terror,  how 
Is  conquering  Bali  fallen  now  ?' 

Then  when  they  saw  their  leader  slain 
Great  anguish  seized  the  Vanar  train, 
Weeping  their  mighty  chief,  as  when 
In  pastures  near  a  lion's  den 
The  cows  by  sudden  fear  are  stirred, 
Slain  the  bold  bull  who  led  the  herd. 
And  hapless  Tara  sank  below 
The  whelming  waters  of  her  woe, 
Looked  upon  Bali's  face  and  fell 
Beside  him  whom  she  loved  so  well, 
Like  a  young  creeper  clinging  round 
A  tall  tree  prostrate  on  the  ground. 


CANTO  XXIII. 


TAHA'S  LAMENT. 

She  kissed  her  lifeless  husband's  face, 
She  clasped  him  in  a  close  embrace, 
Laid  her  soft  lips  upon  his  head  ; 
Then  words  like  these  the  mourner  said  : 
'No  words  of  mine  wouldst  thou  regard, 
And  now  thy  bed  is  cold  and  hard. 
Upon  the  rude  rou^h  ground  o'erthrown, 
Beneath  thee  naught  but  sand  and  stone. 
To  thee  the  earth  is  dearer  far 
Than  I  and  my  caresses  are, 
If  thou  upon  her  breast  wilt  tie, 
And  to  my  words  make  no  reply. 
Ah  my  beloved,  good  and  brave, 
Hold  to  attack  and  strong  to  save, 
Fate  is  Sugriva's  thrall,  and  we 
In  him  our  lord  and  master  see. 
Lo,  by  thy  bed,  a  mournful  band, 
Thy  Vanar  chiefs  lamenting  stand. 
O  hear  thy  nobles'  groans  and  cries, 
O  mark  thy  Angad's  weeping  eyes, 
O  list  to  my  entreaties,  break 
The  chains  of  slumber  and  awake. 
Ah  me,  my  lord,  this  lowly  bed 
Where  rest  thy  limbs  and  fallen  head, 
Is  the  cold  couch  where  smitten  lay 
Thy  foemen  in  the  bloody  fray. 
O  noble  heart  from  blemish  free, 
Lover  of  war,  beloved  by  me, 
Why  hast  thou  fled  away  and  left 
Thy  Tara  of  all  hope  bereft? 
Unwise  the  father  who  allows 
His  child  to  be  a  warrior's  spouse, 
For,  hero,  see  thy  consort's  tate, 
A  widow  now  most  desolate, 


For  ever  broken  is  mv  pride, 

My  hope  of  lasting  bliss  has  died, 

And  sinking  in  the  lowest  deep 

Of  sorrow's  sea  1  pine  and  weep. 

Ah,  surely  not  of  earthly  mould, 

This  stony  heart  is  stern  and  cold, 

Or,  in  a  hundred  pieces  rent, 

It  had  not  lingered  to  lament. 

Dead,  dead  1   my  husband,   friend,  and 

lord 

In  whom  my  loving  hopes  were  stored, 
First  in  the  field,  his  foemen's  dread, 
My  own  victorious  Bali,  dead  ! 
A  woman  when  her  lord  has  died. 
Though  children  flourish  by  her  side. 
Though  stores  of  gold  her  coffers  fill, 
Is  called  a  lonely  widow  still. 
Alas,  thy  bleeding  gashes  make 
Around  thy  limbs  a  purple  lake  : 
Thusblumbering  was  thy  wont  to  lie 
On  cushions  bright  with  crimson  dye. 
Dark  streams  of  welling  blood  besmear 
Thy  limbs  where  dust  and  mire  adhere, 
Nor  have  1  strength,  weighed  down  by  woe, 
Mine  arms  about  thy  form  to  throw. 
The  issue  of  this  day  has  brought 
Sugriva  all  his  wishes  sought, 
For  Rama  shot  one  shaft  and  he 
Is  freed  from  fear  and  jeopardy. 
Alas,  alas,  I  may  not  rest 
My  head  upon  thy  wounded  breast, 
Obstructed  by  the  massive  dart 
Deep  buried  in  thy  bleeding  heart.' 

Then  Nila  from  his  bosom  drew 
The  fatal  shaft  that  pierced  him  through, 
Like  some  tremendous  serpent  deep 
In  caverns  of  a  hill  asleep. 
As  from  the  hero's  wound  it  came, 
Shot  from  the  shaft  a  gleam  of  flame, 
Like  the  last  flashes  of  the  sun 
Descending  when  his  course  is  run. 
From  the  wide  rent  in  crimson  flood 
Rushed  the  full  stream  of  Bali's  blood, 
Like  torrents  down  a  mountain's  side 
With  golden  ore  and  copper  dyed. 
Then  Tara  brushed  with  tender  care 
The  dust  of  battle  from  his  hair, 
While  her  sad  eyes  poured  down  their  rain 
Upon  her  lord  untimely  slain. 
Once  more  she  looked  upon  the  dead  ; 
Then  to  her  bright- eyed  child  she  said  : 
'  Turn  hither,  turn  thy  weeping  eyes 
Where  low  in  death  thy  father  lies. 
By  sinful  deed  and  bitter  hate 
Our  lord  has  met  his  mournful  fate. 
Bright  as  the  sun  at  early  morn 
To  Varna's  halls  is  Bali  borne. 
Then  go,  my  child,  salute  the  king, 
From  whom  our  bliss  and  honour  spring/ 

Obedient  to  his  mother's  nest 
His  father's  feet  he  gently  pressed 


Canto  XXIV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


353 


With  twining  arms  and  lingering  hands  : 
'Father',  he  cried,  'here  Angad  stands.' 
Then  Tara  :  'Art  thou  stern  and  mute, 
Regardless  of  thy  child's  salute? 
Hast  thou  no  blessing  for  thy  son, 
No  word  for  little  Angad,  none  ? 

0  hero,  at  thy  lifeless  feet 

Here  with  my  boy  I  take  my  seat, 
As  some  sad  mother  of  the  herd, 
By  the  fierce  lion  undeterred, 
Lies  moaning  by  the  grassy  dell 
\Vherein  her  lord  and  leader  fell. 
How,  having  wrought  that  awful  rite, 
The  sacrifice  of  deadly  fight. 
Wherein  the  shaft  by  Rama  sped 
Supplied  the  place  of  water  shed, 
How  hast  thou  bathed  thee  at  the  end 
Without  thy  wife  her  aid  to  lend  ?  » 
Why  do  mine  eyes  no  more  behold 
Thy  bright  beloved  chain  of  gold, 
Which,  pleased  with  thee,  the  Immortals' 

King 

About  thy  neck  vouchsafed  to  fling  ? 
Still  lingering  on  thy  lifeless  face 

1  see  the  pride  of  royal  race  : 
Thus  when  the  sun  has  set,  his  glow 
Still  rests  upon  the  Lord  of  Snow. 
Alas  my  hero  !  undeterred 

Thou  wouldst  not  listen  to  my  word. 
With  tears  and  prayers  I  sued  in  vain  : 
Thou  wouldst  not  listen,  and  art  slain. 
Gone  is  my  bliss,  my  glory  :  I 
And  Angad  now  with  thee  will  die.' 


CANTO  XXIV. 


SUGRFVA'S  LAMENT. 

But  when  Sugriva  saw  her  weep 

O'erwhelmed  in  sorrow's  rushing  deep. 

Swift  through  his  bosom  pierced  the  sting 

Of  anguish  for  the  fallen  king. 

At  the  sad  sight  his  eyes  beheld 

A  flood  of  bitter  tears  outwelled, 

And,  with  his  bosom  racked  and  rent, 

To  Rama  with  his  train  he  went. 

He  came  with  faltering  steps  and  slow 

Where  Rama  held  his  mighty  bow 

And  arrow  like  a  venomed  snake, 

And  to  the  son  of  Raghu  spake : 

1  Well  hast  thou  kept,  O  King,  thy  vow  ; 

The  promised  fruit  is  gathered  now. 

But  life  is  marred,  my  soul  to-day 

Turns  sickening  from  all  joy  away. 

1  Sacrifices  and  all  religious  rites  begin 
\nd  end  with  ablution,  and  the  wife  of 
the  officiating  Brahman  takes  an  im- 
portant part  in  the  performance  of  the 
loly  ceremonies. 


For,  while  this  queen  laments  and  sighs 
Amid  a  mourning  people's  cries, 
And  Angad  weeps  his  father  slain, 
How  can  my  heart  delight  to  reign  ? 
For  outrage,  fury,  senseless  pride, 
My  brother,  dooiped  of  yore,  has  died. 
Yet.  Raghu's  son,  in  bitter  woe 
I  mourn  his  fated  overthrow. 
Ah,  better  far  in  pain  and  ill 
To  dwell  on  Rishyamuka  still 
Than  gain  the  heaven  of  Gods  and  all 
Its  pleasures  by  my  brother's  fall. 
Did  not  he  cry, — great-hearted  foe,— 
1  Go,  for  I  will  not  slay  thee,  Go'  ? 
With  his  brave  soul  those  words  agree  : 
My  speech,  my  deeds,  are  worthy  me. 
How  can  a  brother  counterweigh 
His  grievous  loss  with  joys  of  sway, 
And  see  with  dull  unpitying  eye 
So  brave  and  good  a  brother  die  ? 
His  lofty  soul  was  nobly  blind  : 
My  death  alas,  he  ne'er  designed  ; 
But  I,  urged  blindly  on  by  hate, 
Sought  with  his  life  my  rage  to  sate. 
He  smote  me  with  a  splintered  tree  : 
I  groaned  aloud  and  turned  to  flee, 
From  stern  reproaches  he  forbore, 
And  gently  bade  me  sin  no  more. 
Serene  and  dutiful  and  good, 
He  kept  the  laws  of  brotherhood  : 
I,  fierce  and  greedy,  vengeful,  base, 
Showed  all  the  vices  of  our  race. 
Ah  me,  dear  friend,  my  brother's  fate 
Lays  on  my  soul  a  crushing  weight: 
A  sin  no  heart  should  e'er  conceive, 
But  at  the  though  teach  soul  should  grieve: 
Sin  such  as  Indra's  when  his  blow 
Laid  heavenly  Visvarupa1   low. 
Yet  earth,  the  waters  of  the  seas, 
The  race  of  women  and  the  trees 
Were  fain  upon  themselves  to  take 
The  weight  of  sin  for  Indra's  sake. 
But  who  a  Vanar's  soul  will  free, 
Or  ease  the  load  that  crushes  me  ? 
Wretch  that  I  am,  I  may  not  claim 
The  reverence  due  to  royal  name. 
How  shall  I  reign  supreme,  or  dare 
Affect  the  power  I  should  not  share? 
Ah  me,  I  sorrow  for  my  sin, 
The  ruin  of  my  race  and  kin, 
Polluted  by  a  hideous  crime 
World-hated  till  the  end  of  time. 
Alas,  the  floods  of  sorrow  roll 
With  whelming  force  upon  my  soul  ; 
So  gathers  the  descending  rain 
In  the  deep  hollow  of  the  plain. 


1  Visvarupa,  a  son  of  Twashtri  or  Vis- 
vakarma  the  heavenly  architect,  was  a 
three-headed  monster  slain  by  Indra, 


354 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool 


CANTO  XXV. 


RAMA'S   SPEECH. 


Then  Baghu's  son,  whose  feeling  breast 
Shared  the  great  woe  that  moved  the  rest, 
Strove  with  wise  charm  their  grief  to  ease 
And  gently  spoke  in  words  like  these  : 

'  You  ne'er  can  raise  the  dead  to  bliss 
By  agony  of  grief  like  this. 
Cease  your  lament,  nor  leave  undone 
The  funeral  task  you  may  not  shun. 
As  nature  orders  o'er  the  dead 
Your  tributary  tears  are  shed, 
But  Fate,  directing  each  event, 
Is  still  the  lord  preeminent. 
Yes,  all  obey  the  changeless  laws 
Of  Fate  the  universal  cause. 
By  Fate,  the  lives  of  all  proceed, 
That  governs  every  word  and  deed, 
None  acts,  none  sees  his  best  obeyed, 
But  each  and  all  by  Fate  are  swayed. 
The  world  its  ordered  course  maintains, 
And  o'er  that  course  Fate  ever  reigns. 
Fate  ne'er  exceeds  the  rule  of  Fate  : 
Is  ne'er  too  swift,  is  ne'er  too  late, 
And  making  nature  its  ally 
Forgets  no  life,  nor  passes  by. 
No  kith  and  kin,  no  power  and  force 
Can  check  or  stay  its  settled  course, 
No  friend  or  client,  grace  or  charm, 
That  victor  of  the  world  disarm. 
So  all  who  see  with  prudent  eyes 
The  hand  of  Fate  must  recognize, 
For  virtue  rules,  or  love,  or  gain, 
As  Fate's  unchanged  decrees  ordain. 
Bali  has  died  and  won  the  meed 
That  waits  in  heaven  on  noble  deed, 
Throned  in  the  seats  the  brave  may  reach 
By  liberal  hand  and  gentle  speech, 
True  to  a  warrior's  duty,  bold 
In  tight,  the  hero  lofty -souled 
Deigned  not  to  guard  his  life  :  he  died, 
And  now  in  heaven  is  glorified. 
Then  cease  these  tears  and  wild  despair  : 
Turn  to  the  task  that  claims  your  care, 
For  Bali's  is  the  glorious  fate 
Which  warriors  count  most  fortunate.' 

When  Kama's  speech  had  found  a  close. 
Brave  Lakshman,  terror  of  his  foes. 
With  wise  and  soothing  words  addressed 
Sugriva  still  with  woe  oppressed: 
'Arise  Sugriva,'  thus  he  said, 
4  Perform  the  service  of  the  dead. 
Prepare  with  Tara  and  her  son 
That  Bali's  rites  be  duly  done. 
A  store  of  funeral  wood  provide 
Which  wind  and  sun  and  time  have  dried 
And  richest  sandal  fit  to  grace 
The  pyre  of  one  of  royal  race, 


With  words  of  comfort  soft  and  kind 
Console  poor  Angad's  troubled  mind, 
Nor  let  thy  heart  be  thus  cast  down, 
For  thine  is  now  the  Vanars'  town. 
Let  Angad's  care  a  wreath  supply, 
And  raiment  rich  with  varied  dye, 
And  oil  and  perfumes  for  the  lire, 
And  all  the  solemn  rites  require. 
Go,  hasten  to  the  town,  O  King, 
And  Tara's  little  quickly  bring. 
A  virtue  is  despatch :  and  speed 
Is  best  of  all  in  hour  of  need. 
Go,  let  a  chosen  band  prepare 
The  litter  of  the  dead  to  bear, 
For  stout  and  tall  and  strong  of  limb 
Must  be  the  cheifs  who  carry  him.' 
He   spoke,— his   friends'    delight     anc 

pride,— 

Then  stood  again  by  Kama's  side. 
When  Tara1  heard' the  words  he  said 
Within  the  town  he  quickly  sped, 
And  brought,  on  stalwart  shoulders  laid. 
The  litter  for  the  rites  arrayed, 
Framed  like  a  car  for  Gods,  complete 
With  painted  sides  and  royal  seat, 
With  latticed  windows  deftly  made, 
And  golden  birds  and  trees  inlaid  : 
Well  joined  and  wrought  in  every  part, 
A  marvel  of  ingenious  art, 
Where  pleasure  mounds  in  carven  wood 
And  many  a  groven  figure  stood. 
The  best  of  jewels  o'er  it  hung, 
And  wreaths  of  flowers  around  it  clung. 
And  over  all  was  raised  on  high 
A  canopy  of  saffron  dye, 
While  like  the  sun  of  morning  shone 
The  billiant  blooms  that  lay  thereon. 
That  glorious  litter  Kama  eyed. 
And  spake  to  Lakshman  by  his  side  : 
'  Let  Bali  on  the  bier  be  placed 
And  with  all  funeral  service  graced.' 
Sugriva  then  with  many  a  tear 
Drew  Bali's  body  to  the  bier 
Whereon,  with  weeping  Angad's  aid, 
The  relics  of  the  chief  were  laid 
Neath  many  a  vesture's  varied  fold, 
And  wreaths  and  ornaments  and  gold. 
Then  King  Sugriva  bade  them  speed 
The  obsequies  by  law  decreed : 
'  Let  Vanars  lead  the  way  and  throw 
Rich  gems  around  them  as  they  go, 
And  be  the  chosen  bearers  near 
Behind  them  laden  with  the  bier. 
No  costly  rite  may  you  deny, 
Used  when  the  proudest  monarchs  die  : 
As  for  a  king  of  widest  sway. 
Perform  his  obsequies  to-day.' 


1  The  Vanar  chief,  not  to  be  confounded 
with  Tara, 


Canto  XX  VL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


355 


Sugriva  gave  his  high  behest  ; 
Then  Princely  Tarn  and  the  rest, 
With  little  Angad  weeping,  led 
The  long  procession  of  the  dead. 
Behind  the  funeral  litter  came, 
With  Tdra  first,  each  widowed  dame, 
In  tears  and  shrieks  her  loss  deplored, 
And  cried  aloud,  My  lord  !  My  lord  J 
While  wood  and  hill  and  valley  sent 
In  echoes  back  the  shrill  lament. 
Then  on  a  low  and  sandy  isle 
Was  reared  the  hero's  funeral  pile 
By  crowds  of  toiling  Vanars,  where 
The  mountain  stream  ran  fresh  and  fair, 
The  Vanar  chiefs,  a  noble  band, 
Had  laid  the  litter  on  the  sand, 
And  stood  a  little  space  apart, 
Each  mourning  in  his  inmost  heart. 
But  Tara,  when  her  weeping  eye 
Saw  Ba!i,  on  the  litter  lie, 
Laid  his  dear  head  upon  her  lap, 
And  wailed  aloud  her  dire  mishap ; 
*  O  mighty  Vanar,  lord  and  king, 
To  whose  fond  breast  I  loved  to  cling, 
Of  goodly  arms,  wise,  brave,  and  bold, 
Rise,  look  upon  me  as  of  old, 
Kise.  up,  my  sovereign,  dost  thou  see 
A  crowd  of  subjects  weep  for  thee  ? 
.Still  o'er  thy  face,  though  breath  has  fled. 
The  joyous  light  of  life  is  spread  : 
Thus  around  the  sun,  although  he  set, 
A  crimson  glory  lingers  yet. 
Death  clad  in  Rama's  form  to-day 
Hast  dragged  thee  from  the  world  away, 
One  shaft  from  his  tremendous  bow 
Dooms  us  to  widowhood  and  woe. 
I  Hast  thou,  0  V&nar  King,  no  eyes 
Thy  weeping  wives  to  recognize, 
1  Who  for  the  length  of  way  unmeet 
Have  followed  tnee  with  weary  feet  ? 
Yet  every  moon-faced  beauty  here 
By  thee,  O  King,  was  counted  dear. 
Lord  of  the  Vanar  race,  hast  thou 
!  No  eyes  to  see  Sugriva  now  ? 
About  thee  stands  in  mournful  mood 
A  sore-afflicted  multitude, 
Arid  Tara  and  thy  lords  of  state 
Around  their  monarch  weep  arid  wait, 
Arise  my  lord,  with  gentle  speech, 
As  was  thy  wont,  dismissing  each, 
Then  in  the  forest  will  we  play 
And  love  shall  make  our  spirits  gay.' 

The  Vanar  dames  raised  Tara,  drowned 
In  floods  of  sorrow,  from  the  ground  ; 
And  Angad  with  Sugriva's  aid, 
Overwhelmed  with  anguish  and  dismayed, 
Weeping  for  his  departed  sire, 
Placed  Bali's  body  on  the  pyre  : 
Tnen  lit  the  flame,  and  round  the  dead 
Passed  slowly  witn  a  mourner's  tread. 
Tnus  with  full  rites  the  funeral  train 


Performed  the  servioe  for  the  slain, 
Then  sought  the  flowing  stream  and  made 
Libations  to  the  parted  shade. 
There,  setting  An<;ad  first  in  place, 
j  The  chieftains  of  the  Vanar  race, 
With  Tara  and  Sugriva,  shed 
The  water  that  delights  the  dead. 


CANTO  XXVI. 


THE  CORONATION. 

Each  Vdnar  councillor  and  peer 
In  crowded  numbers  gathered  near 
Sugriva,  mournful  king,  while  yet 
His  vesture  from  the  wave  was  wet. 
Before  the  chief  of  Haghu's  seed 
Unwearied  in  each  arduous  deed, 
They  stood  and  raised  the  reverent  hand 
As  saints  bef  -re  Lord  Brahma  stand. 
Then  Hanuman  of  massive  mould, 
Like  some  tall  hill  of  glistering  gold, 
Son  of  the  God  whose  wild  blasts  shake 
The  forest,  thus  to  Rama  spake  : 
'  By  thy  kind  favour,  O  my  lord, 
Sugriva,  to  his  home  restored 
Triumphant,  has  regained  to-day 
His  rank  and  power  and  royal  sway. 
He  now  will  call  each  faithful  friend, 
Kilter  the  city,  and  attend 
With  sage  advice  and  prudent  care 
To  every  task  that  waits  him  there. 
Then  balm  and  unguent  shall  anoint 
Our  monarch,  as  the  laws  appoint, 
And  geuis  and  precious  wreaths  shall  bo 
His  grateful  offering.  King,  to  thee. 
Do  thou,  O  Rama,  with  thy  friend 
Thy  steps  within  the  city  bend  ; 
Our  ruler  on  his  throne  install, 
And  with  thy  presence  cheer  us  all.' 

Then,  skilled  in  lore  and  arts  that  guide 
The  speaker,  Raghu's  son  replied  : 
'  For  fourteen  years  I  might  not  break 
The  mandate  that  my  father  spake  ; 
Nor  can  I,  till  that  time  be  fled, 
The  street  of  town  or  village  tread, 
Let  King  Sugriva  seek  the  town 
Most  worthy  of  her  high  renown, 
There  let  him  be  without  delay 
Anointed,  and  begin  his  sway. 

This  answered,  to  Sugriva  then 
Thus  spake  anew  the  king  of  men  : 
4  Do  thou  who  knowest  right  ordain 
Prince  Angad  consort  of  thy  reign  ; 
BV>r  he  is  noble,  true,  and  bold, 
And  trained  a  righteous  course  to  hold. 
Gifts  like  his  sire's  that  youth  adorn 
Born  eldest  to  the  eldest  born, 


356 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  IV 


This  is  the  month  of  ^ravan,1  first 
Of  those  that  see  the  rain-clouds  burst. 
Four  months,  thou  knowest  well,  extends 
The  season  when  the  rain  descends. 
No  time  for  deeds  of  war  is  this  : 
Seek  thou  thy  fair  metropolis, 
And  I  with  Lakshman,  O  my  friend, 
The  time  upon  this  hi'll  will  spend. 
An  ample  cavern  opens  there 
Made  lovely  by  the  mountain  air, 
And  lotuses  and  lilies  fill 
The  pleasant  lake  and  murmuring  rill. 
When  Kartik's*  month  shall  clear  the 

skies, 

Then  tempt  the  mighty  enterprise. 
Now,  chieftain  to  thy  home  repair, 
And  be  anointed  sovereign  there.' 

Sugriva  heard  :  he  bowed  his  head  : 
Within  the  lovely  town  he  sped 
Which  Bali's  royal  will  had  swayed, 
Where  thousand  Vanar  chiefs  arrayed 
Gathered  in  order  round  their  king, 
And  led  him  on  with  welcoming. 
Low  on  the  earth  the  lesser  crowd 
Fell  in  prostration  as  they  bowed, 
bugriva  looked  with  grateful  eyes, 
Spake  to  them  all  and  bade  them  rise. 
Then  through  the  royal  bowers  he  strode 
Wherein  the  monarch's  wives  abode. 
Soon  from  the  inner  chambers  came 
The  Vanar  of  exalted  fame  ; 
And  joyful  friends  drew  near  and  shed 
King-making  balm  upon  his  head, 
Like  Gods  anointing  in  the  skies 
Their  sovereign  of  the  thousand  eyes.* 
Then  brought  they,  o'er  their  king  to  hold 
The  white  umbrella  decked  with  gold, 
And  chouries  with  their  waving  hair 
In  golden  handles  wondrous  fair  ; 
And  fragrant  herbs  and  seed  and  spice, 
And  sparkling  gems  exceeding  price, 
And  every  bloom  from  woods  and  leas, 

1  Sravan :  July- August.    But  the  rains 
begin  a  month  earlier,  and  what  follows 
must  not  be  taken  literally.  /The  text  hast 
j'vrvo'  yamvdrshiko  mdsahSrdvanaJi  sail- 
Ldgamah.    The  Bengal  recension*  has  the 
same,  and  Gorresio  translates  :  '  Equesto 
ilmeseSra'vana  (luglio-agpsto)  primo  della 
stagione  piovosa,  in  cuidilagano  leacque.' 

2  Kartik:  October- November, 

3  "  Indras,  as  the  nocturnal  sun,  hides 
himself,  transformed,  in  the  starry  hea- 
vens :  the  stars  are  his  eyes.  The  hundred- 
eyed  or  all-seeing  (panoptes)  Argos  placed 
as  a  spy  over  the  actions  of  the  cow  belo- 
ved by  Zeus,  is  the  Hellenic  equivalent  of 
this  form  of  Indras."    DE  GUBKRNATIS, 
Zoological  Mythology,  Vol.  I.  p.  418. 


And  gum  distilled  from  milky  trees  ; 
And  precious  ointment  white  as  milk, 
And  spotless  robes  of  cloth  and  silk, 
Wreaths  of   sweet  flowers  whose  gloriea 

gleam 

In  grassy  grove,  on  lake  or  stream. 
And  fragrant  sandal  and  each  scent 
That  makes  the  soft  breeze  redolent ; 
Grain,  honey,  odorous  seed,  and  store 
Of  oil  and  curd  and  golden  ore  ; 
A  noble  tiger's  skin,  a  pair 
Of  sandals  wrought  with  costliest  care. 
Eight  pairs  of  damsels  drawing  nigh 
Brought  unguents  stained  with  varied  dye, 
Then  gems  and  cates  and  robes  displayed 
Before  the  twice-born  priests  were  laid, 
That  they  would  deign  in  order  due 
To  consecrate  the  king  anew. 
The  sacred  grass  was  duly  spread 
And  sacrificial  flame  was  fed, 
Which  Scripture-learned  priests  supplied 
With  oil  which  texts  had  sanctified. 
Then,  with  all  rites  ordained  of  old, 
High  on  the  terrace  bright  with  gold, 
Whereon  a  glorious  carpet  lay, 
And  fresh-culled  garlands  sweet  and  gay, 
Placed  on  his  throne,  Sugriva  bent 
His  looks  toward  the  Orient. 
In  horns  from  forehead  of  the  bull, 
In  pitchers  bright  and  beautiful, 
In  urns  of  gold  the  Vanars  took 
Pure  water  brought  from  stream  and  brook. 
From  every  consecrated  strand 
And  every  sea  that  beats  the  land. 
Then,  as  prescribed  by  sacred  lore 
And  many  a  mighty  sage  of  yore,1 
The  leaders  of  the  Vaiiars  poured 
The  sacred  water  on  their  lord.1 
From  every  Vanar  at  the  close 
Of  that  imperial  rite  arose 
Shouts  of  glad  triumph,  loud  and  long 
Repeated  by  the  high-souled  throng. 
Sugriva,  when  the  rite  was  done, 
Obeyed  the  best  of  Raghu's  son, 
Prince  Angad  to  his  breast  he  strained. 
And  partner  of  his  sway  ordained. 
Once  more  from  all  the  host  rang  out 
The  loud  huzza  and  joyful  shout. 
4  Well  done  !  well  done!  each  Vanar  cried, 
And  good  Sugriva  glorified. 


1  Baudhayana  and  others. 

2  Sugriva  appears  to  have  been  conse- 
crated  with  all  the  ceremonies  that  at- 
tended the  Abhisheka  or  coronation  of  an 
Indian  prince  of  the  Aryan  race.  Compare 
the  preparations  made  for  Rama's  conse- 
cration, Book  II.  Canto  III.  Thus  Homer 
frequently  introduces  into  Troy  the  rites 
of  Hellenic  worship. 


Canto  XXVII, 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


357 


Then  with  glad  voices  loudly  raised 
Were  R&ma  and  his  brother  praised  ; 
And  bright  Kishkindha  shone  that  day 
With  happy  throngs  and  banners  gay. 

CANTO  XXVII. 


KAMA  ON  THE  HILL. 

But  when  the  solemn  rite  was  o'er, 
And  bold  Sugriva  reigned  once  more, 
The  sons  of  Raghu  sought  the  hill, 
Prasravan  of  the  rushing  rill, 
Where  roamed  the  tiger  and  the  deer, 
And  lions  raised  their  voice  of  fear  ; 
Thick  set  with  trees  of  every  kind, 
With  trailing  shrubs  and  plants  entwined  ; 
Home  of  the  ape  and  monkey,  lair 
Of  mountain  cat  and  pard  and  bear. 
In  cloudy  gloom  against  the  sky 
The  sanctifying  hills  rose  high. 
Pierced  in  their  crest,  a  spacious  cave 
To  Raghu's  sons  a  shelter  gave. 
Then  Rama,  pure  from  every  crime, 
In  words  well  suited  to  the  time 
To  Lnkshman  spake,  whose  faithful  zeal 
Watched  humbly  for  his  brother's  weal : 
'  I  love  this  spacious  cavern  where 
There  breathes  a  fresh  and  pleasant  air. 
Brave  brother,  let  us  here  remain 
Throughout  the  season  of  the  rain. 
For  in  mine  eyes  this  mountain  crest 
Is  above  all,  the  loveliest, 
Where  copper-hued  and  black  and  white 
Show  the  huge  blocks  that  face  the  height ; 
Where  gleams  the  shine  of  varied  ore, 
Where  dark  clouds  hang  and  torrents  roar  ; 
Where  waving  woods  are  fair  to  see. 
And  creapers  climb  from  tree  to  tree  ; 
Where  the  gay  peacock's  voice  is  shrill, 
And  sweet  birds  carol  on  the  hill  ; 
Where  odorous  breath  is  wafted  far 
From  Jessamine  and  Sinduvar  ;' 
And  opening  flowers  of  every  hue 
Give  wondrous  beauty  to  the  view. 
See,  too,  this  pleasant  water  near 
Our  cavern  home  is  fresh  and  clear  ; 
And  lilies  gay  with  flower  and  bud 
Are  glorious  on  the  lovely  flood. 
This  cave  that  faces  north  and  east 
Will  shelter  us  till  rain  has  ceased  ; 
And  towering  hills  that  rise  behind 
Will  screen  us  from  the  furious  wind, 
Close  by  the  cavern's  portal  lies 
And  level  stone  of  ample  size 
And  sable  hue,  a  mighty  block 
Long  severed'  from  the  parent  rock. 
Now  let  thine  eye  bent  northward  rest 


Vitex  Negundo. 


A  while  upon  that  mountain  crest, 
High  as  a  cloud  that  brings  the  rain, 
And  dark  as  iron  rent  in  twain. 
Look  southward,  brother,  now  and  view 
A  cloudy  pile  of  palwr  hue 
Like  Mount  Kailasa's  topmost  height 
Where  ores  of  every  tint  are  bright. 
See,  Lakshrnan,  see  before  our  cave 
That  clear  brook  eastward  roll  its  wave 
As  though  'twere  Ganga's  infant  rill 
Down  streaming  from  the  three-peaked  hill. 
See,  by  the  water's  gentle  flow 
Asoka,  sal,  and  sandal  grow. 
And  every  lovely  tree  most  fair 
With  leaf  and  bud  and  flower  is  there. 
See  where,  beneath  the  bending  trees 
That  fringe  her  bank,  the  river  flees, 
Clothed  with  their  beauty  like  a  maid 
In  all  her  robes  and  gems  arrayed, 
While  from  the  sedgy  banks  are  heard 
The  soft  notes  of  each  amorous  bird. 
O  see  what  lovely  islets  stud 
Like  gems  the  bosom  of  th«  flood, 
And  sarases  and  wild  swans  crowd 
About  her  till  she  laughs  aloud. 
See,  lotus  blooms  the  brook  o'erspread, 
Some  tender  blue,  some  dazzling  red, 
And  opening  lilies  white  as  snow 
Their  buds  in  rich  profusion  show. 
There  rings  the  joyous  peacock's  scream, 
There  stands  the  curlew  by  the  stream, 
And  holy  hermits  love  to  throng 
Where  the  sweet  waters  speed  along. 
Ranged  on  the  grassy  margin  shine 
Gay  sandal  trees  in  glittering  line, 
And  all  the  wondrous  verdure  seems 
The  offspring  of  creative  dreams, 
O  conquering  Prince,  there  cannot  be 
A  lovelier  place  than  this  we  see. 
Here  sheltered  on  the  beauteous  height 
Our  days  will  pass  in  calm  delight. 
Nor  is  Kishkindha's  city,  gay 
With  grove  and  garden,  far  away. 
Thence  will  the  breeze  of  evening  bring 
Sweet  music  as  the  minstrels  sing  ; 
And,  when  the  Vanars  dance,  will  come 
The  sound  of  tabour  and  of  drum. 
Again  to  spouse  and  realm  restored, 
Girt  by  his  friends,  the  Vanar  lord 
Great  glory  has  acquired ;  and  how 
Can  he  be  less  than  happy  now  ? ' 

This  said,  the  son  of  Raghu  made 
His  dwelling  in  that  pleasant  shade 
Upon  the  mountain's  shelving  side 
That  sweetly  all  his  wants  supplied. 
But  still  the  hero's  troubled  mind 
No  comfort  in  his  woe  could  find, 
Yet  mourning  for  his  stolen  wife 
Dearer  to  Rama  than  his  life, 
Chief  when  he  saw  the  Lord  of  Night 
Rise  slowly  o'er  the  eastern  height, 


358 


T HE  RA  MA  YAN. 


Book  IV. 


He  tossed  upon  his  leafy  bed 
With  eyes  by  sleep  unvisited. 
Outwelled  the  tears  iu  ceaseless  flow, 
And  every  sense  was  numbed  by  woe. 
Each    pang    that    pierced   the'   mourner 

through 

Smote  Lakshman's  faithful  bosom  too, 
Who,  troubled  for  his  brother's  sake, 
With  wisest  words  the  prince  bespake  : 
*  Arise,  my  brother,  and  be  strong  : 
Thy  hero  heart  has  mourned  too  long. 
Thou  knowest  well  that  tears  and  sighs 
Will  mar  the  mightiest  enterprise. 
Thine  was  the  soul  that  loved  to  dare  : 
TH  serve  the  Gods  was  still  thy  care  ; 
And  ne'er  may  sorrow's  sting  subdue 
A  heart  so  resolute  and  true. 
How  canst  thou  hope  to  slay  in  fight 
The  giant  cruel  in  his  might? 
Unwearied  must  the  champion  be 
Who  strives  with  such  a  foe  as  he. 
Tear  out  this  sorrow  by  the  root  : 
Again  be  bold  and  resolute. 
Arise,  my  brother,  and  subdue 
The  demon  and  his  wicked  crew. 
Thou  canst  destroy  the  earth,  her  seas, 
Her  rooted  hills  and  giant  trees 
Unseated  by  thy  furious  hand: 
And  shall  one  fiend  thy  power  withstand  ? 
Wait  through  this  season  of  the  rain 
Till  suns  of  autumn  dry  the  plain, 
Then  shall  tby  giant  foe,  and  all 
His  host  and  realm,  before  thee  fall. 
I  wake  thy  valour  that  has  slept 
Amid  the  tears  thine  eyes  have  wept ; 
As  drops  of  oil  in  worship  raise 
The  dormant  flame  to  sudden  blaze.' 
The  sou  of  Raghu  heard  :  he  knew 
His  brother's  rede  was  wise  and  true  ; 
And,  honouring  his  friendly  guide, 
In  gentle  words  he  thus  replied  : 
'  Whate'er  a  hero  rirm  and  bold, 
Devoted,  true,  and  lof  ty-souled 
Should  speak  by  deep  affection  led, 
Such  are  the  words  which  thou  hast  said. 
1  cast  away  each  pensive  thought 
That  brings  the  noblest  plans  to  naught, 
And  each  uninjured  power  will  strain 
Until  the  purposed  end  we  gain. 
Thy  prudent  words  will  I  obey, 
And  till  the  close  of  rain-time  stay, 
When  Ring  Sugriva  will  invite 
To  action,  and  the  streams  be  bright. 
The  hero  saved  in  hour  of  need 
Repays  the  debt  with  friendly  deed ; 
But  hated  by  the  good  are  they 
Who  take  the  boon  and  ne'er  repay.' 


CANTO  XXVIll. 


THE  RAINS. 

1  See,  brother,  see'  thus  Rama  cried 
On  Malyavat's1  dark-wooded  side, 
'A  chain!  of  clouds,  like  lofty  hill-s, 
The  sky  with  gathering  shadow  fills. 
Nine  montas  those  clouds  have  borne  the 

load 

Conceived  from  sunbeams  as  they  glowed, 
And,  having  drunk  the  seas,  give  birbh, 
Arid  drop  their  offspring  on  the  earth. 
Easy  it  seems  at  such  a  time 
Tuat  flight  of  cloudy  stairs  to  climb, 
And,  from  their  summit,  safely  won, 
Hang  flowery  wreaths  about  the  sun. 
See  how  the  flash  of  evening's  red 
Fringes  the  fleecy  clouds  o'erhead 
Till  all  the  sky  is  streaked  and  lined 
With  bleeding  wounds  incarnadined. 
Or  the  wide  firmament  above 
Shows  like  a  lover  sick  with  lov£, 
And,  pale  with  cloudlets,  heave^  a  sigh 
In  the  soft  breeze  that  wander^  by. 
See,  by  the  fervent  heat  emlX'owried, 
Now  drenched  with  recent  showers,  the 

ground 

Pours  out  in  floods  her  gushing  tears, 
Like  Sita  wild  with  torturing  fears. 
!So  softly  blows  this  cloud- born  breeze 
Cool  through  the  boughs  of  camphor  trees 
That  one  might  hold  it  in  the  cup 
Of  hollowed  hands  and  drink  it  up, 
See,  brother,  where  that  rocky  steep, 
Where  odorous  shrubs  in  rain-drop^  weep, 
Shows  like  Sugriva  when  they  shed 
The  royal  balm  upon  his  head. 
Like  students  at  their  task  appear 
Those  hills  wtiose  misty  peaks  are  near  : 
Black  deerskin*  garments  wrought  of  cloud 
Their  forms  with  fitting  mantles  shroud  ; 
Each  torrent  from  the  summit  poured 
Supplies  the  place  of  sacred  cord  ;3 
And  winds  that  in  their  caverns  moan 


1  Malyavat:  "The  name  of  this  moun- 
tain appears  to  me  to  be  erroneous,  and  I 
think  that  instead  of  Malyavat  should  be 
read  Malayavat.  Malaya  is  a  group  oi 
mountains  situated  exactly  in  that  sou 
them  part  of  India  where  Rama  now  was 
while  Malyavat  is  placed  to  the  north 
east."  GORRESIO. 

*  Mantles  of  the  skin  of  the  black  ante 
lope  were  the  prescribed  dress  of  ascetici 
and  religioiio  students. 

3  The  sacred  cord  worn  as  the  badge  o; 
religious  initiation  by  men  of  the  threi 
twice-born  castes. 


Canto  XXIX, 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


359 


Sound  like  the  voice's  undertone.1 
From  east  to  west  red  lightnings  flaph, 
And,  quivering  neath  the  golden  lash, 
The  great  sky  like  a  generous  steed 
Groans  inly  at  each  call  to  speed. 
Yon  lightning,  as  it  flashes  through 
The  giant  cloud  of  sable  hue, 
Kecails  my  votaress  Sit&  pressed 
Mid  struggles  to  the  demon's  breast. 
See,  on  those  mountain  ridges  stand 
Sweet  shrubs  that  bud  and  bloom  expand. 
The  soft  rain  ends  their  pangs  of  grief. 
And  drops  its  pearls  on  nower  anti  leaf. 
But  all  their  raptures  stab  me  through 
And  wake  my  pining  love  anew.2 
Now  through  the  air  no  wild  bird  flies, 
Each  lily  shuts  her  weary  eyes  ; 
And  blooms  of  opening  jasmin  show 
The  parting  sun  has  ceased  to  glow. 
No  captain  now  for  conquest  burns, 
But  homeward  with  his  host  returns ; 
For  roads  and  kings'  ambitious  dreams 
Have  vanished  neath  descending  streams. 
This  is  the  watery  month3  wherein 
The  Saman's4  sacred  chants  begin, 
A'sh&dha3  past,  now  KosaFs  lord6 
The  harvest  of  the  spring  has  stored,7 
And  dwells  within  his  palace  freed 


1  The  hum  with  which  students  con 
their  tasks. 

*  I  omit  here  a  long  general  description 
of  the  rainy  season  which  is  not  found  in 
the  Bengal  recension  and  appears  to  have 
been  interpolated  by  a  far  inferior  and 
much  later  hand  than  Yalmiki's.  It  is 
composed  in  a  metre  different  from  that 
of  the  rest  of  the  Canto,  and  contains 
figures  of  poetical  rhetoric  and  common- 
places which  are  the  delight  of  more  re- 
cent poets. 

3  Praushthapada  or  Bhadra,  the  modern 
Bhadon,  corresponds  to  half  of  August 
and  half  of  September. 

4  The  Samaa  or  Sama-veda,  the  third 
of  the  four  Vedas,  is   really   merely   a 
reproduction  of  parts  of    the   Rig-veda, 
transposed  and  scattered  about  piece-meal, 
only  78  verses  in  the  whole  being,  it  is 
said,  untraceable  to  the  present  recension 
of  the  Kig-veda. 

5  AshMha  is  the  month  corresponding 
to  parts  of  June  and  July. 

6  Bharat,  who  was  regent  during  Rama's 
absence. 

?  Or  with  Gorresio,  following  the  gloss 
of  another  commentary,  "  Has  completed 
every  holy  rite  and  accumulated  stores  of 
merit." 

24   • 


From  every  care  of  pressing  need. 

Full  is  the  moon,  and  fierce  and  strong 

Impetuous  Sarju1  roars  along 

As  though  Ayodhya's  crowds  ran  out 

To  greet  their  king  with  echoing  shout. 

In  this  sweet  time  of  ease  and  rest 

No  care  disturbs  Sugriva's  breast, 

The  foe  that  marrecihis  peace  o'erthrown, 

And  queen  and  realm  once  more  his  own, 

Alas,  a  harder  fate  is  mine, 

Reft  both  of  realm  and  queen  to  pmev 

And,  like  the  batik  which  floods  erode, 

I  sink  beneath  my  sorrow's  load. 

Sore  on  my  soul  my  miseries  weigh, 

And  these  long  rains  our  action  stay, 

While  R&van  seems  a  mightier  foe 

Than  1  dare  hope  to  overthrow. 

I  saw  the  roads  were  barred  by  rain, 

I  knew  the  hoped  of  war  were  vain  ; 

Nor  could  I  bid  Sugriva  rise. 

Though  prompt  to  aid  my  enterprise. 

K'en  now  I  scarce  can  urge  my  friend 

On  whom  his  house  and  realm  depend, 

Who,  after  toil  and  peril  past, 

Is  happy  with  his  queen  tit  last. 

Sugriva  after  rest  will  know 

The  hour  is  come  to  strike  the  blow, 

Nor  will  his  grateful  soul  forget 

My  succour,  or  deny  the  debt. 

I  know  his  generous  heart,  and  hence 

Await  the  time  with  confidence 

When  he  his  friendly  zeal  will  show, 

And  brooks  again  untroubled  flow.1  » 


CANTO  XXIX. 

HANUMAN'S  COUNSEL. 

No  flash  of  lightning  lit  the  sky. 

No  cloudlet  marred  the  blue  on  high. 

The  Saras3  missed  the  welcome  rain, 

The  moon's  full  beams  were  bright  again, 

Sugriva,  lapped  in  bliss,  forgot 

The  claims  of  faith,  or  heeded  not  ; 

And  by  alluring  joys  misled 

The  path  of  falsehood  learned  to  tread. 

In  careless  ease  he  passed  each  hour, 

And  dallied  in  his  lady's  bower  : 

Each  longing  of  his  heart  was  stilled, 

And  every  lofty  hope  fulfilled. 

With  royal  Ruma  by  his  8idet 

Or  Tara  yet  a  dearer  bride» 


1  The  river  on  which  Ayodhy&  wa» built,. 

2  I  omit  a  iloka  or  four  lines  oa  grati- 
tude and  ingratitude  repeated  word  for 
word  from  the  last  Canto. 

3  The  Indian  crane;  a  magnificent  bird 
easily  domesticated. 


mi<  RAMA  YA\. 


He  spent  each  joym*  dny  and  night, 
Ju  revelry  and  wild  delight, 
Like  Indra  whom  the  nymphs  entice 
To  taste  the  jovs  of  Paradise. 
The  power  to  courtiers'  hands  resigned, 
To  all  their  acts  his  eyes  were  blind. 
All  doubt,  all  fear  he  cast  aside 
And  lived  with  pleasure  for  his  guide. 
But  sage  Hanuman,  firm  and  true, 
Whose  heart  the  lore  of  Scripture  knew, 
Well  trained  to  meet  occasion,  trained 
In  all  by  duty's  law  ordained, 
Strove  with  his  prudent  speech  to  find 
Soft  access  to  the  monarch's  mind. 
He,  skilled  in  every  gentle  art 
Of  eloquence  that  wins  the  heart, 
SugrivK  from  his  trance  to  wake, 
His  salutary  counsel  spake  : 

'  The  realm  is  won,  thy  name  advanced, 
The  glory  of  thy  house  enhanced, 
And  now  thy  foremost  care  should  be 
To  aid  the  friends  who  succoured  Uiee. 
He  who  is  firm  and  faithful  found 
To  friendly  ties  in  honour  bound, 
Will  see  his  nn.me.nnd  fame  increase 
And  his  blest  kingdom  thrive  in  peace. 
Wide  sway  is  his  who  truly  boasts 
That  friends  and  treasure,  self  and  hosts, 
All  blent  in  one  harmonious  whole, 
Are  subject  to  his  firm  control. 
Do  thou,  whose  footsteps  never  stray 
From  the  clear  bounds  of  duty's  way, 
Assist,  as  honour  bids  thee,  now 
Thy  friends,  observant  of  thy  vow. 
For  if  all  cares  we  lay  not  by, 
And  to  our  friend's  assistance  fly. 
We,  after,  toil  in  idle  hasre, 
And  all  the  late  endeavour  waste. 
Up  !  nor  the  promised  help  delay 
Until  the  hour  have  slipped  away. 
Up !  and  with  Raghu  s  son  renew 
The  search  for  Sita  lost  to  view. 
The  hour  is  come  :  he  hears  the  call, 
But  not  on  thee  reproaches  fall 
From  him  who  labours  to  repress 
His  eager  spirit's  restlessness. 
Long  joined  to  thee  in  friendly  ties 
He  made  thy  fame  and  fortune  rise, 
In  gentle  gifts  by  none  excelled, 
In  splendid  might  unparalleled. 
Up,  to  his  succour,  King !  repay 
The  favour  of  that  prosperous  day, 
And  to  thy  bravest  captains  send 
Prompt  mandates  to  assist  thy  friend. 
The  cry  for  help  thou  wilt  not  spurn 
Although  no  grace  demands  return  : 
And  wilt  thou  uot  thine  aid  afford 
To  him  who  realm  and  life  restored  ? 
Exert  thy  power,  and  thou  hast  won 
The  love  of  .Dasaratha's  son  : 
And  wilt  thou  for  his  summons  wait, 


And.  till  he  call  thee,  hesitate  ? 
Think  not  the  hero  needs  thy  power 
To  save  him  in  the  desperate  hour  : 
tie  with  his  arrows  could  subdue 
The  Gods  and  all  the  demon  crew, 
And  only  waits  that  he  may  see 
Redeemed  the  promise  made  by  thee. 
For  thee  he  risked  his  life  and 'fought, 
For  thee  that  great  deliverance  wrought. 
'I  hen  let  u*  trace  through  earth  and  bkie 
His  lady  wheresoe'er  she  lies. 
Through  realms  above,  beneath,  we  flee, 
And  plant  our  footsteps  on  the  sea. 
Then  why,  O  Lord  of  Vanars,  still 
Delay  us  waiting  for  thy  will  '* 
(Jjve  thy  commands,  O  King,  and  say 
What  task  has  each,  and  where  the  way. 
Before  thee  myriad  Vanars  stand 
To  sweep  through  heaven,  o'er  seas  an- 

land.' 

Sugriva  heard  the  timely  rede 
That  roused  him  in  the  day  of  need, 
And  thus  to  Nila  prompt  and  brave 
H  is  heat  the  imperial  Vanar  gave  : 
'  Go,  Nila,  to  the  distant  hosts 
That  keep  in  arms  their  several  posts> 
And  all  the  armies  that  protect 
The  quarters,.1  with  their  chiefs,  collect. 
To  all  the  limitaries  placed 
In  intermediate  regions  haste, 
And  bid  each  captain  rise  and  lead 
His  squadrons  to  their  king  with  speed,, 
Uo  tiiou  meanwhile  with  ^strictest  care 
All  that  the  time  requires  prepare. 
The  loitering  Vanar  who  delays 
To  gather  here  ere  thrice  five  days, 
Shall  surely  die  for  his  offence, 
Condemned  for  sinful  negligence.' 

CANTO  XXX, 


KAMA'S  LAMENT. 

But  Rama  in  the  autumn  night 
Stood  musing  on  the  mountain  height, 
While  grief  and  love  that  scorned  contro 
Shook  with  wild  storms  the  hero's  soul. 
Clear  was  the  sky,  without  a  cloud 
The  glory  of  the' moon  to  shroud. 
And  bright  with  purest  silver  shone 
Each  hill  the  soft  beams  looked  upon. 
He  knew  Sugriva's  heart  was  bent 
On  pleasure,  gay  and  negligent. 
He  thought  on  Janak's  child  forlorn 
From  his  fond  arms  for  ever  torn. 
He  mourned  occasion  slipping  by, 
And  faint  with  anguish  heaved  each  sigh 


1  The  troops  who  guard  the  frontiers  o; 
the  north,  south,  east,  and  west. 


Canto 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


361 


He  sat  where  many  a  varied  streak 

Of  rich  ore  marked  the  mountain  peak. 

He  raised  his  eyes  the  sky  to  view. 

And  to  his  love  his  sad  thoughts  flew. 

He  heard  the  Saras  cry,  and  taint 

With  sorrow  poured  his  love-born  plaint : 

1  She.  she  who  mocked  the  softest  tone 

Of  wild  birds'  voices  with  her  own, — 

Where  strays  she  now,  ray  love  who  played 

So  happy  in  our  hermit  shade  ? 

How  can  my  absent  love  behold 

The  bright  trees  with  their  flowers  of  gold, 

And  all  their  gloaming  glory  see 

With  eyes  that  vainly  look  for  me  ? 

How  is  it  with  my  darling  when 

From  the  deep  tangles  of  the  glen 

Float  carols  of  each  bird  elate 

With  rapture  singing  to  his  mate? 

In  vain  my  weary  glances  rove 

From  lake  to  hill,  from  stream  to  grove  : 

I  find  no  rapture  in  the  scene, 

And  languish  for  my  fawn -eyed  queen, 

Ah,  does  strong  love  with  wild  unrest, 

Born  of  the  autumn,  stir  her  breast  ? 

And  does  the  gentle  lady  pine 

Till  her  bright  eyes  shall  look  in  mine  ?' 

Thus  RaghuVson  in  piteous  tone, 
O'er  whelmed  with  sorrow,  made  his  moan. 
E'en  as  the  bird  that  drinks  the  rains  l 
To  Indra  thousand-eyed  complains. 
Then     Lakshman    who    had    wandered 

through 

The  copses  where  the  berries  grew, 
Returning  to  the  cavern  found 
Hia  brother  chief  in  sorrow  drowned, 
And  pitying  the  woes  that  broke 
The  spirit  of  the  hero  spoke  : 

'  Why  cast  thv  strength  of  soul  away, 
And  weakly  yield  to  passion's  sway  ? 
Arise,  my  brother,  do  and  dare 
Ere  action  periah  in  despair. 
Recall  the  firmness  of  thy  heart, 
And  nerve  thee  for  a  hero's  part. 
Whose  is  the  hand  unscathed  to  seize 
The  red  flame  quickened  by  the  breeze? 
Where  is  the  foe  will  dare  to  wrong 
Or  keep  the  Maithil  lady  long  ?' 
Then  with  pale  lips  that  sorrow  dried 
The  son  of  Haghu  thus  replied  : 
Lord  Indra  thousand-eyed  has  sent 
The  sweet  rain  from  the  firmament, 
Sees  the  rich  promise  of  the  grain, 
And  turns  him  to  his  rest  again. 
The  clouds  with  voices  loud  and  deep, 
Veiling  each  tree  upon  the  steep, 
Up  on  the  thirsty  earth  have  shed 
Their  precious  burthen,  and  are  fled. 

1  The  Chataka,  Cuculus  Melanoleucus, 
is  supposed  to  drink  nothing  but  the  water 
of  the  clouds. 


Now  in  kings'  hearts  ambition  glows  : 

They  rush  to  battle  with  their  foes  ;  A 

But  in  riugriva's  sloth  I  see 

No  care  for  deeds  of  chivalry. 

Bee,  Lakshman,  on  each  breezy  height 

A  thousand  autumn  blooms  are  bright.- 

See  how  the  wings  of  wild  swans  gleam 

On  every  islet  or  the  stream. 

Four  months  of  flood  and  rain  are  past  : 

A  hundred  years  they  seemed  to  last 

To  me  whom  toil  and  trouble  tried, 

My  Sita  severed  from  my  side. 

f:>he,  gentlest  woman,  weak  and  young, 

t'.till  to  her  lord  unwearied  cluug. 

fctill  by  the  exile's  side  she  stood 

In  the  wild  ways  of  Daudak  wood, 

I, ike  a  fond  bird  disconsolate 

Ii  parted  from  her  darling  mate. 

fcugriva,  lapped  in  soft  repose, 

Untouched  by  pity  for  my  woe?, 

Scorns  the  poor  exile,  dispossessed, 

By  K&van'i*  mightier  arm  oppressed, 

The  wretch  who  cornea  to  sue  and  pray 

From  his  lost  kingdom  far  away. 

Hence  fall*  on  me  the  Vanar's  scorn, 

A  suitor  friendless  and  forlorn. 

The  time  is  come :  with  heedless  eye 

He  sees  the  hour  of  action  fly, — 

Unmindful,  now  his  hopes  succeed, 

Of  promise  made  in  stress  of  need. 

Go  seek  him  sunk  in  bliss  and  sloth, 

Forgetful  of  his  royal  oath, 

And  as  mine  envoy  thus  upbraid 

The  monarch  for  his  help  delayed  : 

'  Vile  is  the  wretch  who  will  not  pay 

The  favour  of  an  earlier  day, 

Hope  in  the  suppliant's  breast  awakes, 

And  then  hi*  plighted  promise  breaks. 

Noblest,  mid  all  of  women  born, 

Who  keeps  the  words  his  lips  have  sworn, 

Yea,  if  those  words  be  good  or  ill. 

Maintains  his  faith  unbroken  still. 

The  thankless  who  forget  to  aid 

The  friend  who  helped  them  when  they 

prayed, 

Dishonoured  in  their  death  shall  lie, 
And  dogs  shall  pass -their  corpses  by. 
Sure  thou  wouldst  see  my  strained  arm 

hold 

My  bow  of  battle  backed  with  gold, 
Wouldat  gaze  upun  its  awful  form 
Like  lightning  flashing  through  the  storm.. 
And  hear  the  clanging  bowstring  fond 
As  thunder  from  a  labouring  clouql  ' 

His  valour  and  his  strength  1  knov; , 
But  pleasure's  sway  now  sinks  them  low, 
With  thee,  my  brother,  for  ally. 
That  strength  and  valour  I  defy. 

1  The  time  for  warlike  expeditions  began 
when  the  rain.3  had  ceased. 


362 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  IV 


He  promised,  when  the  rains  should  end, 
The  succour  of  his  arm  to  lend. 
Those  months  are  past :  he  dares  forget, 
And,  lapped  in  pleasure,  slumbers  yet. 
No  thought  disturbs  his  careless  breast 
For  us  impatient  and  distressed, 
And,  while  we  sadly  wait  and  pine, 
Girt  by  his  lords  he  quaffs  the  wine. 
Go,  brother,  go,  his  palace  seek, 
And  boldly  to  Sugriva  speak. 
Thus  give  the  listless  king  to  know 
"What  waits  him  if  my  anger  glow  : 
Still  open,  to  the  gloomy  God, 
Lies  the  sad  path  that  Bali  trod. 
'  Btill  to  thy  plighted  word  be  true, 
Lest  thou.  O  King,  that  path  pursue. 
I  launched  the  shaft  I  pointed  well, 
And  Bali,  only  Bali,  fell. 
But,  if  from  truth  thou  dare  to  stray, 
Both  thee  and  thine  this  hand  shall  slay.' 
Thus  be  the  Vanar  king  addressed, 
Then  add  thyself  what  seems  the  best. 


CANTO  XXXI, 

THE  ENVOY. 

Thus  Rfana  spoke,  and  Lakshman  then 
Made  answer  to  the  prince  of  men : 
'  Yea,  if  the  Vanar,  underterrei 
By  fear  of  vengeance,  break  his  word, 
Loss  of  his  royal  power  ere  long 
Shall  pay  the  traitor  for  the  wrong, 
Nor  deem  I  him  BO  void  of  sense 
TO  brave  the  bitter  consequence. 
But  if  enslaved  to  joy  he  lie, 
And  scorn  thy  grace  with  blinded  eye, 
Then  let  him  join  his  brother  slain  : 
Unmeet  were  such  a  wretch  to  reign. 
Quick  rises,  kindling  in  my  breast, 
The  wrath  that  will  not  be  repressed, 
And  bids  me  in  my  fury  slay 
The  breaker  of  his  faith  to-day, 
3/et  Bali's  son  thy  consort  trace 
With  bravest  chiefs  of  Vanar  race.' 

Thus  spoke  the  hero,  and  aglow 
With  rage  of  battle  seized  his  bow, 
But  Rama  thus  in  gentler  mood 
With  fitting  words  his  speech  renewed  ; 
'No  hero  with  a  soul  like  thine 
To  paths  of  sin  will  e'er  incline. 
He  who  his  angry  heart  can  tama 
Is  worthiest  of  a  hero's  name. 
Not  thine,  my  brother,  be  the  part 
So  alien  from  the  tender  heart, 
NOT  let  thy  feet  by  wrath  misled 
Forsake  the  path  they  loved  to  tread. 
Frora  harsh  and  angry  words  abstain  ; 
"7/i t.h  gentle  speech  a  hearing  gain, 
And  tax  Sugriva  with  the  crime 


Of  failing  faith  and  wasted  time.' 

Then  Lakshman,  bravest  of  the  brave, 
Obeyed  the  best  that  Rama  gave, 
To  whom  devoting  every  thought 
The  Vanar's  royal  town  he  sought. 
As  Mandar's  mountain  heaves  on  high 
II is  curved  peak  soaring  to  the  sky, 
So  Lakshman  showed,  his  dread  bow  ben 
Like  Indra's1  in  the  firmament. 
His  brother's  wrath,  his  brother's  woe 
Inflamed  his  soul  to  fiercest  glow. 
The  tallest  trees  to  earth  were  cast 
As  furious  on  his  way  he  passed, 
And  where  he  stepped,  so  fiercely  fleet, 
The  stones  were  shivered  by  his  feet. 
He  reached  Kishkindha's  city  deep 
Embosomed  where  the  hills  were  steep, 
Where  street  and  open  square  were  lined 
With  legions  of  the  Vanar  kind. 
Then,  as  his  lips  with  fury  swelled, 
The  lord  of  Raghu's  line  beheld 
A  stream  of  Vauar  chiefs  outpoured 
To  do  obeisance  to  their  lord. 
But  when  the  mighty  prince  in  view 
Of  the  thick  coming  Vanars  drew. 
They  turned  them  in  amaze  to  seize 
Crags  of  the  rock  and  giant  trees. 
He  saw,  and  fiercer  waxed  his  ire, 
As  oil  lends  fury  to  the  fire. 
Scarce  had  the  Yanar  chieftains  seen 
That  wrathful  eye,  that  troubled  mien 
Fierce  as  the  God's  who  rules  the  dead. 
When,  turned  in  wild  affright,  they  fled, 
Speeding  in  breathless  terror  all 
Sought  King  Sugriva's  council  ball, 
And  there  made  known  their  tale  of  fea; 
That  Lakshman,  wild  with  rage,  was  neai 
The  king,  untroubled  by  alarms, 
Held  Tara  in  his  amorous  arms, 
And  in  the  distant  bower  with  her 
Heard  not  each  clamorous  messenger. 
Then,  summoned  at  the  lords'  behest, 
Forth  from  the  city  portals  pressed, 
Each  like  some  elephant  or  cloud, 
The  Vanars  in  a  trembling  crowd  : 
Fierce  warriors  all,  with  massive  jaws 
And  terrors  of  their  tiger  claws. 
Some  matched  ten  elephants,  and  some 
A  hundred's  strength  could  overcome. 
Some  chieftains,  mightier  than  the  rest, 
Ten  times  a  hundred's  force  possessed. 
With  eyes  of  fury  Lakshman  viewed 
The  Vanars'  tree-armed  multitude. 
Thus  garrisoned  from  side  to  side 
The  city  walls  assault  defied. 
Beyond  the  moat  that  girt  the  wall 
Advanced  the  Vanar  chiefs  ;  and  all 
Upon  the  plain  in  firm  brigade, 
Impetuous  warriors,  stood  arrayed. 

1  The  raiobow, 


Canto  XXX It. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


363 


Red  at  the  sight  flashed  Lakshman's  eyes, 
His  bosom  heaved  tumultuous  sighs, 
And  forth  the  fire  of  fury  broke 
Like  flame  that  flashes  through  the  smoke. 
Like  some  fierce  snake  the  hero  stood  : 
His  bow  recalled  the  expanded  hood, 
And  111  his  shaft-head  bright  and  keen 
The  flickering  of  its  tongue  was  seen  : 
And  in  his  own  all-conquering  might 
The  venom  of  its  deadly  bite. 
Prince  Angad  marked  his  angry  look, 
And  every  hope  his  heart  forsook. 
Then,  his  large  eyes  With  fury  red, 
To  Angad  Lakshman  turned  and  said  : 

'  Go  tell  the  king  that  Lakshman  waits 
For  audience  at  the  city  gates, 
Whose  heart,  O  tamer  of  thy  foes, 
Is  heavy  with  his  brother's  woes. 
Bid  him  to  Rama's  word  attend, 
And  ask  if  lie  will  aid  his  friend. 
Go,  let  the  king  my  message  learn  : 
Then  hither  with  all  speed  return.' 

Prince  Angad  heard  and  wild  with  grief 
Cried  as  he  looked  upon  the  chief  : 
*  'Tis  Lakshman's  self  :  impelled  by  ire 
He  seeks  the  city  of  my  sire.' 
At  the  tierce  words  and  furious  look 
Of  Raghu's  son  he  quailed  and  shook, 
Back  through  the  city  gates  he  sped, 
And,  laden  with  the  tale  of  dread, 
Sought  King  Sugriva,  filled  his  ears 
And  Ruina's  with  his  doubts  and  fears. 
To  Ruma  and  the  king  he  bent, 
And  clasped  their  feet  most  reverent, 
Clasped  the  dear  feet  of  Tara,  too, 
And  told  the  startling  tale  anew. 

But  King  Sugrfva's  ear  was  dulled, 
By  love  and  wine  and  languor  lulled, 
Nor  did  the  words  that  Angad  spake 
The  slumberer  from  his  trance  awake, 
tiut  soon  as  Us  gnu's  sou  came  nigh 
The  startled  Vanais  raised  a  cry, 
Vnd  strove  to  win  his  grace,  while  dread 
Kach  anxious  heart  disquieted. 
They  saw,  and,  as  they  gathered  round, 
blose  from  the  mighty  throng  a  sound 
Lake  torrents  when  they  downward  dash, 
Or  thunder  with  the  lightning's  flash. 
The  shouting  of  the  Vanars  broke 
Sugriva's  slumber,  and  he  woke : 
Still  with  the  wine  his  eyes  were  red, 
rlis  neck  with  flowers  was  garlanded. 
Roused  at  the  voice  of  Angad  came 
Two  Vanar  lords  of  rank  and  fame  ; 
One  Yaksha,  one  Prabhava  hight,— 
Wise  counsellors  of  gain  and  right. 
They  came  and  raised  their  voices  high, 
And  told  that  Raghu's  son  was  nigh : 
1  Two  brothers  steadfast  in  their  truth, 
Each  glorious  in  the  bloom,  of  youth, 
Worthy  of  rule,  have  left  the  skies, 


And  clothed  their  forms  in  men's  disguise. 
One  at  thy  gates,  in  warlike  hands 
Holding  his  mighty  weapon,  stauda. 
His  message  is  the  charioteer 
That  brings  the  eager  envoy  near, 
Urged  onward  by  his  bold  intent, 
And  by  the  best  of  Rama  sent.1 
The  gathered  Vanars  saw  and  fled, 
And  raised  aloud  their  cry  of  dread. 
Son  of  Queen  Tara,  Angad  ran 
To  parley  with  the  godlike  man. 
Still  fiery-eyed  with  rage  and  hate 
Stands  Lakshman  at  the  city  gate, 
And  trembling  Vanars  scarce  can  fly- 
Scathed  by  the  lightning  of  his  eye. 
Go  with  thy  son,  thy  kith  and  kin, 
The  favour  of  the  prince  to  win, 
And  bow  thy  reverent  head  that  so 
His  fiery  wrath  may  cease  to  glow. 
What  righteous  Rama  bids  thee.  do, 
And  to  thy  plighted  word  be  true.1 


CANTO  XXXII. 


HANUMAN'S  COUNSEL. 

Sugriva  heard,  and.  trained  and  tried 
In  counsel,  to  his  lords  replied : 
'No  deed  of  mine,  no  hasty  word 
The  anger  of  the  prince  has  stirred. 
But  haply  some  who  hate  me  still 
And  watch  their  time  to  work  me  ill, 
Have  slandered  me  to  Raghu's  son, 
Accused  of  deeds  I  ne'er  have  done. 
Now,  O  my  lords —for  you  are  wise- 
Speak  truly  what  your  hearts  advise, 
And,  pondering  each  event,  inquire 
The  reason  of  the  prince's  ire. 
No  fear  have  I  of  Lakshman  :  none  : 
No  dread  of  Raghu's  mightier  son. 
But  wrath,  that  fires  a  friendly  breast 
Without  due  cause,  distrubs  my  rest. 
With  labour  light  is  friendship  gained, 
But  with  severest  toil  maintained. 
And  doubt  is  strong,  and  faith  is  weak, 

1  In  a  note  on  the  corresponding  pas- 
sage in  the  Bengal  recension  Gorreaio 
says :  '  The  text  here  makes  use  of  ,& 
strange  and  something  more  than  bold 
metaphor  which  I  have  sought  to  modify. 
The  text  says  :  "  Here  is  Lakehman  the 
charioteer  of  words  who  by  the  orders  of 
Rama  has  come  hither  upon  the  car 
of  resolution."  In  his  Italian  translation 
he  renders  the  passage  :  '*  Here  is  Laksh- 
man, the  brother  of  Rama  who  by  hi* 
orders  comes  hither  the  determined  bearer 
of  words," 


36i 


THE  HAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  7T. 


And  friendship  dies  when  traitors  speak, 
Hence  is  my  troubled  bosom  cold 
With  fear  of  Kama  lofty-souled  ; 
For  heavy  on  my  spirit  weigh 
His  favours  I  can  ne'er  repay.' 

He  ceased  :  and  Hanuman  of  all 
The  Vanars  in  the  council  hall 
lu  wisdom  first,  and  rank,  expressed 
The 'thoughts  that  tilled  his  prudent  breast: 
'  No  marvel  thou  rememberest  yet 
The  service  thou  shouldst  ne'er  forget, 
How  the  brave  prince  of  Kaghu's  seed 
Thy  days  from  fear  and  peril  freed; 
And  Bali  for  thy  sake  o'erthrew, 
Whom  Iridra's  self  might  scarce  subdue, 
I  doubt  not  Kama's  anger  burns 
For  the  scant  love  thy  heart  returns. 
For  this  he  sends  his  brother,  him 
Whose  glory  never  waxes  dim. 
Sunk  in  repose  thy  careless  eye 
Marks  not  the  seasons  as  they  fly, 
Nor  sees  that  autumn  has  begun 
With  dark  blooms  opening  to  the  sun. 
Clear  ia  the  sky  :  no  cloudlet  mars 
The  splendour  of  the  shining  stars. 
The  balmy  air  is  soft  and  still, 
-And  clear  and  bright  are  lake  and  rill. 
Thou  heedest  not  with  blinded  eyes 
The  hour  for  warlike  enterprise. 
Hence  Lakshman  hither  comes  to  break 
Thy  slothful  trance  and  bid  thee  wake. 
Then,  Monarch,  with  a  patient  ear 
The  high-souled  Itama's  message  hear, 
Which,  reft  of  wife  and  realm  and  friends, 
Thus  by  another's  mouth  he  sends. 
Thou,  Vanar  King,  hast  done  amiss  : 
And  now  I  see  no  way  but  this  : 
Before  his  envoy  humbly  stand 
And  sue  for  peace  with  suppliant  hand. 
High  duty  bids  a  courtier  seek 
His  master's  weal,  and  freely  speak. 
So  by  no  thought  of  fear  controlled 
My  speech,  O  King,  is  free  and  bold. 
For  Kama,  if  his  anger  glow, 
Can,  with  the  terrors  of  his  bow, 
This  earth  with  all  the  Gods  subdue, 
Gandharva*,1  and  the  demon  crew. 
Unwise  to  stir  his  wrathful  mood 
Whose  favour  must  again  be  wooed. 
And,  most  of  all,  unwise  for  one 
Grateful  like  thee  for  service  done. 
Go  with  thy  son  and  kinsmen  :  bend 
Thy  humble  head  and  greet  thy  friend. 
And,  like  a  fond  obedient  spouse, 
Be  faithful  to  thy  plighted  vows.' 


CANTO  XXXIII. 


1  ludra'n  associates  m  arms,  and  musi- 
cians of  his  heaven. 


LAKSHMAN'S  ENTRY. 

Through  the  fair  city  Lakshman  came, 

Invited  in  Sugriva's  name. 

Within  the  gates  the  guardian  bands, 

Of  Vanars  raised  their  suppliant  hands, 

And  in  their  ordered  ranks,  amazed, 

Upon  the  princely  hero  gazed. 

They  marked  each  burning  breath  he  drew, 

The  fury  of  his  soul  they  knew. 

Their  hearts  were  chilled  with  sudden  fear  : 

They  gazed,  but  dared  not  venture  near. 

Before  his  eyes  the  city,  gay 

With  gems  and  flowery  gardens,  lay, 

Where  fane  and  palace  rose  on  high, 

And  things  of  beauty  charmed  the  eye. 

Where  trees  of  every  blossom  grew 

Yielding  their  fruit  in  season  due 

To  Vanars  of  celestial  seed 

Who  wore  each  varied  form  at  need, 

Fair-faced  and  glorious  with  the  shine 

Of  heavenly  robes  and  wreaths  divine. 

There  sandal,  aloe,  lotus  bloomed, 

And  there  delicious  breath  perfumed 

The  city's  broad  street,  redolent 

Of  sugary  mead1  and  honey  scent. 

There  many  a  lofty  palace  rose 

Like  Vindhya  or  the  Lord  of  Snows, 

And  with  sweet  murmur  sparkling  rilla 

Leapt  lightly  down  the  sheltering  hills. 

On  many  a  glorious  palace,  raised 

For  prince  and  noble,2  Lakshman  gazed  ; 

Like  clouds  of  paly  hue  they  shone 

With  fragrant  wreaths  that  hung  thereon ; 

There  \yealth  of  jewels  was  enshrined, 

And  fairer  gems  of  womankind. 

There  gleamed,  of  noble  height  and  size, 

Like  Indra's  mansion  in  the  skies, 

Protected  by  a  crystal  fence 

Of  rock,  the  royal  residence. 

With  roof  and  turret  high  and  bright 

Like  Mount  Kailasa's  loftiest  height. 

There  blooming  trees,  Mahendra's  gift, 

High  o'er  the  walls  were  seen  to  lift 

Their  golden-fruited  boughs,  that  made 

With  leaf  and  flower  delicious  shade. 

He  saw  a  band  of  Vanars  wait, 


1  Maireya,  a  spirituous  liquor  from  the 
blossoms  of  the  Lythrum  fruticosuin,  with 
sugar,  &c. 

2  Their  names  are  as  follows : 
Angad,  Mainda,    Dwida,   Gavaya,   Ga- 

vaksha,  Gaja,  Sarabha,  VidyunmMi, 
Sampati,  Suryaksa.  Hanumun,  Virabahu, 
Subahu,  Nala,  Kumudji.  tSushena,  Tara, 
Jambuvatu,  Dadhivakra.  Nila,  Supatala, 
1  and  Suuetra, 


Canto  XXXIII. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


365 


Wielding  their  weapons,  at  the  gate 
Where  golden  portals  flashed  between 
Celestial  garlands  red  and  green. 
Within  Sugriva's  fair  abode 
Unchecked  the  mighty  hero  strode, 
As  when  the  sun  of  autumn  shrouds 
His  glory  in  a  pile  of  clouds. 
Through   seven   wide  courts  he   quickly 

passed, 

And  reached  the  royal  bower  at  last, 
Where  seats  were  set  with  couch   and   bed 
Of  gold  and  silver  richly  spread. 
While  the  young  chief  bain's  feet  drew  near 
The  sound  of  music  reached  his  ear, 
As  the  soft  breathings  of  the  flute 
Came  blending  with  the  voice  and  lute. 
Then  beauty  showed  her  youth  and  grace 
And  varied  charm  of  form  and  face  : 
Soft    bright-eyed    creatures,     fair     and 

young, — 

Gay  garlands  round  their  necks  were  hung, 
And  greater  charms  to  each  were  lent 
By  richest  dress  and  ornament. 
He  saw  the  calm  attendants  wait 
About  their  lord  in  careless  state, 
Heard  women's  girdles  chime  in  sweet 
Accordance  with  their  tinkling  feet. 
He  heard  the  anklet's  silvery  sound, 
He  saw  the  calm  that  reigned  around, 
And  o'er  him,  as  he  listened,  came 
A  rush  of  rage,  a  flood  of  shame. 
He  drew  his  bowstring  :  with  the  clang 
From  east  to  west  the  welkin  rang : 
Then  in  his  modest  mood  withdrew 
A  little  from  the  ladies'  view. 
And  sternly  silent  stood  apart, 
While  wrath  for  Kama  filled' his  heart. 
Sugriva  knew  the  sounding  string, 
And  at  the  call  the  Vanar  king 
Sprang  swiftly  from  his  golden  seat, 
And  feared  the  corning  prince  to  meet. 
Then  with  cold  lips  that  terror  dried 
To  beauteous  Tiira  thus  he  cried  : 
*  What  cause  of  anger,  O  my  spouse 
Fair  with  the  charm  of  lovely  brow?, 
Sets  Lakshman's  gentle  breast  on  h're, 
And  brings  him  in  unwonted  ire? 
Say,  canst  thou  see,  O  faultless  dame, 
A  cause  to  till  his  soul  with  tiame  .' 
For  there  must  be  a  reason  when 
Such  fury  stirs  the  king  of  men. 
Reveal  the  sin,  if  sin  of  mine 
Anger  the  lord  of  Raghu's  line. 
Or  go  thyself,  his  rage  subdue, 
And  with  soft  words  his  favour  woo. 
Soon  as  on  thee  his  eyes  are  set 
HLs  heart  this  anger  will  forget, 
For  men  like  him  of  lofty  mind 
Are  never  stem  with  womankind. 
Fir.-^t  let  thy  gentle  speech  disarm 
His  fury,  and  his  spirit  charm, 


And  I,  from  fear  of  peril  free, 
The  conqueror  of  his  foes  will  sec.' 

She  heard  :  with  faltering  steps  and  slow, 
With  eyes  that  shone  with  trembling  glow, 
With  gold-girt  body  gently  bent 
To  meet  the  stranger  prince  she  went. 
When  Lakshrnan  saw  the  Vanar  queen 
With  tranquil  eyes  and  modest  mien, 
Before  the  dame  he  bent  his  head, 
And  anger,  at  her  presence,  fled. 
Made  bold  by  draughts  of  wine,  and  cheered 
By  Lakshmsm '«  look,  no  more  she  feared, 
And  in  the  trust  his  favour  lent 
She  thus  addressed  him  eloquent: 
'  Whence  springs  thy  burning  fury?  say  : 
Who  dares  thy  will  to  disobey  ? 
Who  checks  the  maddened  flames  that  seize 
On  forests  full  of  withered  trees? 

Then  Lakshman  spoke,  her  mind  to  cage, 
His  kind  reply  in  words  like  these  : 

•Tuy  lord  his  days  in  pleasure  speeds, 
Heedless  of  duty  and  of  friends. 
Nor  dost  thou  mark,  though  fondly  true, 
The  evil  path  his  steps  pursue. 
He  cares  not  for  affairmof  state, 
Nor  us  forlorn  and  desolate, 
But  sits" a  mere  spectator  still, 
A  sensual  slave  to  pleasure's  will. 
Four  months  were  nxed,  the  time  agreed 
When  he  should  help  «s  in  our  need  : 
But,  bound  in  toils  of  pleasure  fast, 
He  sees  not  that  the  months  are  past. 
Where  beats  the  heart  which  draughts  of 

wine 

To  virtue  or  to  gain  incline  ? 
Hast  thou  not  heard  those  draughts  destroy 
Virtue  and  gain  and  love  and  joy  ? 
For  those  who,  helped  at  need,  refuse 
Their  aid  in  turn,  their  virtue  lose  : 
And  they  who  scorn  a  friend  disdain 
A  treasure  naught  may  buy  again. 
Thy  lord  has  cast  his  friend  away, 
Nor  feared  from  virtue's  path  to  stray. 
If  this  be  true,  declare,  O  dame 
Who  knowest  duty's  every  claim, 
What  further  work  remains  for  us 
Deceived  and  disappointed  thus.' 

She  listened,  for  ins  words  were  kind. 
Where  virtue  showed  with  gain  combined, 
And  thus  in  turn  the  prince  addressed, 
As  hope  was  rising  in  his  breast : 
4  No  time,  no  cause  of  wrath  I  see 
With  tho.se  who  love  and  honour  thee  ; 
And  thou  shouldst  bear  without  offence 
Thy  servant's  fitful  negligence. 
I  know  the  seasons  glide  away, 
While  Kama  maddens  at  delay. 
1  know  what  deed  our  thanks  has  earned, 
I  know  that  grace  should  be  returned. 
But  still  I  know,  whate'cr  befall, 
That  conquering  love  U  lord  of  all  ; 


366 


THE  RAM  AY  Alt. 


Aook  IV 


Know  where  Sugriva'*  thoughts,  possessed 

By  one  absorbing  passion,  rest. 

But  he  whom  sensual  joys  debase 

Heeds  not  the  claim  of  time  and  place, 

And  sees  not  with  his  blinded  sight 

His  duty  or  his  gain  aright. 

O  pardon  him  who  loves  me !  spare 

The  Vanar  caught  in  pleasure's  snare, 

And  once  again  let  Rama  grace 

With  favour  him  who  rules  our  race. 

E'en  royal  saints,  whose  chief  delight 

Was  penance  and  austt-rest  rite, 

At  love's  commandment  have  unbent, 

Beguiled  by  sweetest  blandishment. 

And  know,  Sugriva,  roused  at  last, 

The  order  to  his  lords  has  passed, 

And,  long  by  love  and  bliss  delayed, 

Wakes  all  on  fire  your  hopes  to  aid. 

A  countless  host  his  city  tills, 

New-gathered  from  a  thousand  hills  : 

Impetuous  chiefs,  who  wear  at  need 

Each  varied  form,  his  legions  lead. 

Come  then,  O  hero,  kept  aloof 

By  modest  awe,  nor  fear  reproof : 

A  faithful  friend  untouched  by  blame 

May  look  upon  another's  dame.' 

He  passed  within,  by  Tara  pressed. 
And  by  his  own  impatient  breast. 
Refulgent  there  in  sunlike  sheen  . 
Sugriva  on  his  throne  was  seen. 
Gay  garlands  round  his  neck  were  twined, 
And  RUITI&  by  her  lord  recline. 

CANTO  XXXIV. 


LAKSHMAN'S  SPEECH. 

Sugriva  started  from  his  rest 
With  doubt  and  terror  in  his  breast. 
He  heard  the  prince's  furious  tread 
He  saw  his  eyes  glow  fiercely  red. 
Swift  sprang  the  monarch  to  his  feet 
Upstarting  from  his  golden  seat. 
Rose  Kuma  and  her  fellows,  too, 
And  closely  round  Sugriva  drew, 
AR  round  the  moon's  full  glory  stand 
Attendant  stars  in  glittering  band. 
Sugriva  glanced  with  reddened  eyes, 
Raised  his  joined  hands  in  suppliant  guise 
Flew  to  the  door,  and  rooted  there 
Stood   like   the   tree  that   grants   each 

prayer. ] 

And  Laksbman  saw,  and,  fiercely  moved, 
With  angry  speech  the  king  reproved: 

1  The  Kalpadruma  or  Wishing-tree  is 
one  of  the  trees  of  Svargaor  Indra's  Para- 
dise :  it  has  the  power  of  granting  all 
desires, 


*  Famed istheprincewholovesthetruth 
Whose  soul  is  touched  with  tender  ruth, 
Who,  liberal,  keeps  each  sense  subdued, 
And  pays  the  debt  of  gratitude. 
But  all  unmeet  a  king  to  be, 
The  meanest  of  the  mean  is  he 
Who  basely  breaks  the  promise  made 
To  trusting  friends  who  lent  him  aid. 
He  sins  who  for  a  steed  has  lied, 
As  if  a  hundred  steeds  had  died  : 
Or  if  he  lie,  a  cow  to  win, 
Tenfold  as  heavy  is  the  sin. 
But  if  the  lie  a  man  betray, 
Both  he  and  his  shall  all  decay.1 
O  Vanar  King,  the  thankless  man 
Is  worthy  of  the  general  ban, 
Who  takes  assistance  of  his  friends, 
And  in  his  turn  no  service  lends. 
This  verse  of  old  by  Brahma  sung 
Is  echoed  now  by  every  tongue. 
Hear  what  He  cried  in  angry  mood 
Bewailing  man's  ingratitude  : 
'For  draughtsof  wine.f  or  slaughtered  cows 
For  treacherous  theft,  for  broken  vows 
A  pardon  is  ordained:  but  none 
For  thankless  scorn  of  service  done,' 
Ungrateful,  Vanar  King,  art  thou, 
And  faithless  to  thy  plighted  vow. 
For  Rama  brought  thee  help,  and  yet 
Thou  shunnest  to  repay  the  debt: 
Or,  grateful,  thou  hadst  surely  pressed 
To  aid  the  hero  in  his  quest. 
Thou  art,  in  vulgar  pleasures  drowned. 
False  to  thy  bond  in  honour  bouud. 
Nor  yet  has  Rama's  guileless  heart 
Discerned  thee  for  the  thing  thou  art-* 
A  snake  who  holds  the  frogs  that  cries 
And  lures  fresh  victims  as  it  dies. 
Brave  Rama,  born  for  glorious  fate, 
Has  set  thee  in  thy  high  estate, 
And  to  the  Vanars'  throne  restored, 
Great- souled  himself,  their  mean-souled 

lord. 

Now  if  thy  pride  disown  what  he, 
High-tboughted  prince,  has  done  for  thee, 
Struck  by  his  arrows  shalt  thon  fall, 
And  Bali  meet  in  Yfama's  hall. 
Still  open,  to  the  gloomy  God, 
Lies  the  sad  path  thy  brother  trod. 
Then  to  thy  plighted  word  be  true, 
Nor  let  thy  steps  that  path  pursue. 
Methinks  the  shafts  of  Kama,  shot 
Like  thunderbolts,  thou  heedest  not, 
Who  cansfe,  absorbed  in  sensual  bliss, 
Thy  promise  from  thy  mind  dismiss.' 


1  The  meaning  is  that  if  a  man  promises 
to  give  a  horse  and  then  breaks  his  word  he 
commits  a  sin  as  great  as  if  he  had  killed 
a  hundred  horeee, 


Canto 


THK  R  AM  AY  AN. 


367 


CANTO  XXXV. 


TARE'S  SPEECH. 


He  ceased  :  and  Tara  starry-eyed 
Thus  to  the  angry  prince  replied  : 
*  Not  to  my  lord  shouldst  thou  address 
A  speech  so  fraught  with  bitterness: 
Not  thus  reproached  my  lord  should  be, 
And  least  of  all,  O  Prince,  by  thee* 
He  is  no  thankless  coward— no — 
With  spirit  dead  to  valour's  glow. 
From  paths  of  truth  he  never  strays, 
Nor  wanders  in  forbidden  ways. 
Ne'er  will  Sugriva's  heart  forget, 
By  R&ma  saved,  the  lasting  debt. 
Still  in  his  grateful  breast  will  live 
The  succour  none  but  he  could  give. 
Restored  to  fame  by  Rama's  grace, 
To  empire  o'er  the  Vanar  race, 
From  ceaseless  dread  and  toil  set  free, 
Restored  to  Ruma  and  to  me  : 
By  grief  and  care  and  exile  tried, 
New  to  the  bliss  so  long  denied, 
Like  Visvamitra  once,  alas, 
He  marks  not  how  the  seasons  pass. 
That  saint  ten  thousand  years  remained, 
By  aweet  Ghritachi's1  love  enchained. 
And  deemed  those  years,  that  flew  away 
So  lightly,  but  a  single  day. 
O,  if  those  years  unheeded  flew 
By  him  who  times  and  seasons  knew, 
Unequalled  for  his  lofty  mind. 
What  marvel  meaner  eyes  are  blind  ? 
Then  be  not  angry,  Raghu's  son, 
And  let  thy  brother  feel  for  one 
Who  many  a  weary  year  has  spent 
Stranger  to  love  and"  blandishment. 
Let  not  this  wrath  thy  soul  inflame, 
Like  some  mean  wretch  unknown  to  fame  : 
For  high  and  noble  hearts  like  thine 
Love  mercy  and  to  ruth  incline, 
Calm  and  deliberate,  and  slow 
With  anger's  raging  tire  to  glow. 
At  length,  O  righteous  prince,  relent, 
Nor  let  my  words  in  vain  be  spent. 
This  sudden  blaze  of  fury  slake, 
Ipray  thee  for  Sugriva's  sake. 
He  would  renounce- at  Rama's  call 
Ruma  and  Acgad,  me  and  all 
Who  call  him  lord  :  his  gold  and  grain, 
The  favour  of  his  friend  to  gain. 
His  arm  shall  slay  the  fiend  more  base 
In  soul  than  all  his  impious  race, 
And  happy  Rama  reunite 
.To  Sita,  rival  in  delight 


J  .The  story  is  told    in    Book    !.  Canto 
LXIII.,  but  the  ciiarraer  thare  is  called 


Of  the  triumphant  Moon  when  he 
Rejoins  his  darling  RohinU 
Ten  million  million  demons  guard 
I1  he  gates  of  Lanka  firmly  barred. 
All  hope  until  that  host  be  slain, 
To  smite  the  robber  king  is  vain. 
Nor  with  Sugriva's  aid  alone 
May  king  and  host  be  overthrown. 
Thus  ere  he  died— for  well  he  know- 
Spake  Bali,  and  his  words  are  true. 
I  know  not  what  his  proofs  might  be, 
But  speak  the  words  he  npake  to  me. 
Hence  far  and  wide  our  lords  are  seat 
To  raise  the  mightiest  armament. 
F"or  their  return  Sugriva  waits 
Ere  he  can  sally  from  his  gates. 
Still  is  the  oath  Sugriva  swore 
Kept  firmly  even  as  before  : 
And  the  great  host  this  day  will  be 
Assembled  by  the  king's  decree, 
Ten  thousand  thousand  troops,  who  wear 
The  form  of  monkey  and  of  bear, 
Prepared  for  thee  the  war  to  wage  : 
Then  let  thy  wrath  no  longer  rage. 
The  matrons  of  the  Vanar  race 
See  marks  of  fury  in  thy  face  ; 
They  see  thine  eyes  like  blood  are  red. 
And  will  not  yet  be  comforted.' 


CANTO  XXXVI. 


SUGRIVA'S  SPEECH. 

She  ceased:  and  Lakshman  gave  assent, 
Won  by  her  gentle  argument. 
So  Tara's  pleading,  just  and  mild, 
His  softening  heart  had  reconciled. 
His  altered  mood  Sugriva  saw, 
And  cast  aside  the  fear  and  awe 
Like  raiment  heavy  with  the  rain 
Which  on  his  troubled  soul  had  lain. 
Then  quickly  to  the  ground  he  threw 
His  flowery  garland,  bright  of  hue, 
Which  round  his  royal  neck  he  wore, 
And,  sobered,  was  himse.lf  once  more. 
Then  turning  to  the  princely  man 
In  soothing  words  the  king  began  : 
*  My  glory,  wealth,  and  royal  sway 
To  other  hands  had  passed  away  : 
But  Rama  to  my  rescue  came, 
And  gave  me  back  my  power  and  fame. 
O  Lakshman,  say.  whose  grateful  heart 


1  Rohini  is  the  name  of  the  ninth  Nak- 
shatra  or  lunar  asterism  personified  as  3 
daughter  of  Daksha,  and  the  favourite 
wife  of  the  Moon. 

Aldebaran  is  the  principal  star  in  the 
constellation, 


368 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  IV. 


Could  nurse  the  hope  to  pay  in  part, 
By  service  of  a  life,  the  deed 
Of  Kama  sprung  of  heavenly  seed  ? 
His  foemau  Ravan  shall  be'slain, 
And  Sita  shall  be  his  again. 
The  hero's  side  I  will  not  leave, 
But  he  the  conquest  shall  achieve. 
What  need  of  help  has  he  who  drew 
His  bow,  and  oue  great  arrow  flew 
Trough  seven  tall  trees,  a  mountain  rent, 
And  cleft  the  earth  with  force  unspent? 
What  aid  needs  he  who  shook  his  bow, 
And  at  the  sound  the  earth  below 
With  hill  and  wood  and  rooted  rock 
Quaked  feverous  with  the  thunder  shock? 
Yet  all  my  legions  will  I  bring, 
And  follow  close  the  warrier  king 
Marching  on  his  impetuous  way 
Fierce  Kavan  and  his  hosts  to  slay. 
If  I  be  guilty  of  offence, 
Careless  through  love  or  neligence, 
Let  him  his  loyal  slave  forgive  ; 
For  error  cleaves  to  all  who  live.' 

Thus  king  Sugriva,  good  and  brave, 
In  humble  words  his  answer  gave, 
Softened  was  Lakshman's  angry  mood 
Who  thus  his  friendly  speech  renewed  : 
'  My  brother,  Vauar  King,  will  see 
A  champion  and  a  friend  in  thee. 
So  strong  art  thou,  so  brave  and  bold, 
So  pure  in  thought,  so  humble-souled, 
That  thou  deservest  well  to  rei^n 
And  all  a  monarch's  bliss  to  gain. 
Lend  thou  my  brother  aid,  and  all 
His  foes  beneath  his  arm  will  fall. 
Full  well  the  words  thou  speakest  suit 
A  chieftain  wise  and  resolute, 
With  grateful  heart  that  loves  the  right, 
And  foot  that  never  yields  in  fight. 
O  come,  and  my  sad  brother  cheer 
Who  mourns  the  wife  he  holds  so  dear. 
O  pardon,  friend,  my  harsh  address, 
And  Kama's  frantic  bitterness.' 


CANTO  XXXVII. 


THE  GATHERING. 

He  ceased  :  and  King  Sugriva  cried 
To  sage  Hanumdn1  by  his  side: 
4  Summon  the  Vanar  legions,  those 
Who  dwell  about  the  L  >rd  of  Snows  : 
Those  who  in  Vindhyan  groves  delight, 
Kailasa'e,  or  Mauendra's  height, 
Dwell  on  the  Five  bright   Peaks,  or  where 
Mandar's  white  summit  cleaves  the  air : 


1  Valmiki  and  succeeding  poets  make  the 
second  vowel  in  thia  name  long  or  short 
at  their  pleasure, 


Wherever  they  are  wandring  free 

In  highlands 'by  the  western  sea, 

On  that  east  hill  whence  springs  the  sun, 

()r  where  he  sinks  when  day  is  done. 

Call  the  great  chiefs  whose  legions  nil 

The  forests  of  the  Lotus  Hill,1 

Where  every  one  in  strength  and  size 

With  the  stupendous  Anjan*  vies. 

Call  those,  with  tints  of  burnished  gold, 

Whom  Mahasaila's  caverns  hold  : 

Those  who  on  Dhumra  roam,  or  hide 

In  the  wild  woods  on  Meru's  side. 

Call  those  who,  brilliant  as  the  sun, 

On  high  Maharun  leap  and  run, 

Quaffing  sweet  juices  (hat  distil 

From  odorous  trees  upon  the  hill. 

Call  those  whom  tranquil  haunts  delight, 

Where  dwell  the  sage  and  anchorite 

In  groves  that  through  their  wide  extent 

Exhale  a  thousand  blossoms'  scent. 

Send  out,  send  out  :  from  coast  to  coast 

Assemble  all  the  Vanar  host  : 

With  force,  with  words,  with  gifts  of  price 

Compel,  admonish  and  entice. 

Already  envoys  have  been  sent 

To  warn  them  of  their  lord's  intent. 

Let  others  urged  by  thee  repeat 

My  mandate  that  their  steps  be  fleet. 

Those  lords  who  yielding  to  the  sway 

Of  love's  delight  would  fain  delay, 

Urge  hither  with  the  utmost  speed, 

Or  with  thee  to  my  presence  lead  : 

And  those  who  linger  to  the  last 

Until  ten  days  be  come  and  passed, 

And  dare  their  sovereign  to  defy, 

For  their  offence  shall  surely  die. 

Thousands,  yea  millions,  shall  there  be, 

Obedient  to  their  king's  decree, 

The  lions  of  the  Vanar  race, 

Assembled  from  each  distant  place. 

Forth  shall  they  haste  like  hills  in  size, 

Or  mighty  clouds  that  veil  the  skies, 

And  swiftly  speeding  on  their  way 

Bring  all  our  legions  in  array.' 

i  Some  of  the  mountains  here  mention- 
ed are  fabulous  and  others  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  identify.  Sugriva  means  to  include 
all  the  mountains  of  India  from  Kailas 
the  residence  of  the  God  Kuvera,  regarded 
as  one  of  the  loftiest  peaks  of  the  Hima- 
layas, to  Mahendra  in  the  extreme  south, 
from  the  mountain  in  the  east  where  the 
sun  is  said  to  rise  to  Astachal  or  the  wes- 
tern mountain  where  he  sets.  The  com- 
mentators give  little  assistance  :  that 
Mahasaila,  &c.  are  certain  mountains  is 
about  all  the  information  they  give. 

1  One  of  the  celestial  elephants  of  the 
Gods  who  protect  the  four  quarters  aiid 
intermediate  points  of  the  cwni^uso. 


Canto  XXXV  1 II. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


369 


He  ceased  :  the  son  of  Viiyu1  heard, 
Submissive  to  his  sovereign's  word  ; 
And  sent  his  rapid  envoys   forth 
To  east  and  west  and  south  and  north. 
They  bent  their  airy  course  afar 
Along  the  paths  of  bird  and  star, 
And  sped  through  ether  farther  yet 
Where  Vishnu's  splendid  sphere  is  set.* 
By  sea,  on  hill,  by  wood  and  lake 
They  called  to  arms  for  Rama's  sake, 
As  each  with  terror  in  his  breast 
Obeyed  his  awful  king's  behest. 
Three  million  Vauars,  fierce  and  strong 
As  Anjan's  self,  a  wondrous  throng, 
Sped  from  the  spot  where  Kama  still 
Gazed  restless  from  the  woody  hill. 
Ten  million  others,  brave  and  bold, 
With  coats  that  shone  like  burning  gold, 
Came  dying  from  the  mountain  crest 
Where  sinks  the  weary  sun  to  rest. 
Impetuous  from  the  northern  skies, 
Where  Mount  Kailasa's  summits  rise, 
Ten  hundred  millions  hasted,  hued 
Like  manes  of  lions,  ne'er  subdued  : 
The  dwellers  on  Himalaya's  side, 
Whose  food  his  roots  and  fruit  supplied, 
With  rangers  of  the  Vindhyan  chain 
And  neighbours  of  the  Milky  Main.3 
Some  from  the  palm  groves  where  they  fed, 
Some  from  the  woods  of  betel  sped : 
In  countless  numbers,  fierce  and  brave, 
They  came  from  mountain,  lake,  and  cave. 

As  on  their  way  the  Vanars  went 
To  rouse  each  distant  armament, 
They  chanced  that  wondrous  tree  to  view 
That  on  Himalaya's  summit  grew. 
Of  old  upon  that  sacred  height 
Was  wrought  Mahesvar's4  glorious  rite, 
Which  every  God  in  heaven  beheld, 
And  his  glad  heart  with  triumph  swelled. 
There  from  pure  seed  at  random  sown 
Bright  plants     with  luscious    fruit  had 

grown, 

And,  sweet  as  Arnrit  to  the  taste, 
The  summit  of  the  mountain  graced. 
Who  once  should  eat  the  virtuous  fruit 
That  sprang  from  so  divine  a  root, 
One  whole  revolving  moon  should  be 
From  every  pang  of  hunger  free. 


1  Vayu  or  the  Wind  was  the  father  of 
Hanuman, 

3  The  path  or  station  of  Vishnu  is  the 
space  between  the  seven  Rishis*  or  Ursa 
Major,  and  Dhruva  or  the  polar  star. 

3  One  of  the  seven  seas  which  surround 
the  earth  in  concentric  circles. 


is  sometimes  , given  to  Indra, 
generally  to  Siva  wkcm  it  here  denote*. 


lighty  L 
,,  but  in 


The  Vanars  culled  the  fruit  they  found 

Ripe  on  the  sacrificial  ground 

With  rare  celestial  odours  sweet, 

To  lay  them  at  Sugriva's  feet. 

Those  noble  envoys  scoured  the  land 

To  summon  every  Vauar  band 

Then  swiftly  homeward  at  the  head 

Of  countless  armaments  they  sped. 

They  gathered  by  Kishkindha's  wall, 

They  thronged  Sugriva's  palace  hall, 

And,  richly  laden,  bare  within 

That  fruit  of  heavenly  origin. 

Their  gifts  before  their  king  they  spread, 

And  thus  in  tones  of  triumph  said  : 

1  Through  every  land  our  way  we  took 
To  visit  hill  and  wood  anil  brook, 
And  all  thy  hosts  from  east  to  west 
Flock  hither  at  their  lord's  behest.' 
Sugriva  with  delighted  look 
The  present  of  his  envoys  took, 
Then  bade  them  go,  with  gracious  speech 
Rewarding  and  dismissing  each. 


CANTO  XXXVIII. 


SUGRFVA'S  DEPARTURE. 

Thus  all  the  princely  Vanars.  true 
To  their  appointed  tasks,  withdrew. 
Sugriva  deemed  already  done 
The  work  he  planned  for  Raghu's  son. 
Then  Lakshman  gently  spoke  and  cheered 
Sugriva  for  his  valour  feared  : 
4  Now,  chieftain,  if  thy  will  be  so, 
Forth  from  Kishkindlia  let  us  go.' 
Sugriva's  heart  swelled  high  with  pride 
As  to  the  prince  he  thus  replied  : 
1  Come,  speed  we  forth  without  delay  : 
'Tis  mine  thy  mandate  to  obey,' 
Sugriva  bade  the  dames  adieu, 
And  Tara  arid  the  rest  withdrew. 
Then  at  their  chieftain's  summons  came 
The  Vanars  first  in  rank  and  fame, 
A  trusty  brave  and  reverent  band, 
Meet  e'en  before  a  queen  to  stand. 
They  at  his  call  made  haste  to  bring 
The" litter  of  the  glorious  king. 
'  Mount,  0  my  friend,'  Sugriva  cried, 
And  straight  Sumitra's  son  complied. 
Then  took  by  Lakshman's  side  his  place 
The  sovereign  of  the  woodland  race, 
Upraised  by  Vanars,  fleet  and  strong. 
Who  bore  the  glittering  load  along. 
On  high  above  his  royal  head 
A  paly  canopy  was  spread, 
And  chouries  white  in  many  a  hand 
The  forehead  of  the  monarch  fanned, 
And  shell  and  drum  and  spng'and  shout 
'  Pealed  round  him  a*  the  king  passed  out, 


37d 


HAMAYAtf. 


Boole   IV. 


About  the  monarch  went  a  throng 
Of  Vauar  warriors  brave  and  strong, 
As  onward  to  the  mountain  shade 
Where  Kama  dwelt  his  way  he  made. 
Soon  as  the  lovely  spot  he  viewed 
Where  Rama  lived  in  solitude, 
The  Vanar  monarch,  f ar-renowed, 
With  Lakshman,  lightly  stepped  to  ground, 
And  to  the  son  of  Raghu  went 
Joining  his  raised  hands  reverent. 
As  their  great  leader  raised  his  hands, 
So  suppliant  stood  the  Vanar  bands. 
Well  pleased  the  son  of  Raghu  saw 
Those  legions,  hushed  in  reverent  awe, 
Stand  silent  like  the  tranquil  floods 
That  raise  their  hands  of  lotus  buds. 
But  Rama,  when  the  king,  to  greet 
His  friend,  had  bowed  him  at  his  feet,. 
Raised  him  who  ruled  the  Vanar  race, 
And  held  him  in  a  close  embrace  : 
Then,  when  his  arms  he  had  unknit, 
Besought  him  by  his  side  to  sit, 
And  thus  with  gentle  words  the  best 
Of  men  the  Vanar  king  addressed  : 

'  The  prince  who  well  bis  days  divides, 
And  knows  aright  the  times  and  tides 
To  follow  duty,  joy,  or  gain, 
He,  only  he,  deserves  to  reign. 
But  he  who  wealth  and  virtue  leaves, 
And  every  hour  to  pleasure  cleaves, 
False  from  his  bliss  like  him  who  wakes 
From  slumber  on  a  branch  that  breaks. 
True  king  is  he  who  smites  his  foes, 
And  favour  to  his  servants  shows, 
And  of  that  fruit  makes  timely  use 
Which  virtue,  wealth,  and  joy  produce. 
The  hour  is  come  that  bids  thee  rise 
To  aid  me  in  my  enterprise. 
Then  call  thy  nobles  to  debate, 
And  with  their  help  deliberate.' 

'  Lost  was  my  power,'  the  king  replied, 
'  All  strength  had  fled,  all  hope  had  died  . 
The  Vanars  owned  another  lord, 
But  by  thy  grace  was  all  restored. 
All  this,  O  conqueror  of  the  foe, 
To  thee  and  La  k -Oman's  aid  I  owe 
And  his  should  be  the  villain's  shame 
Who  durst  deny  the  sacred  claim. 
These  Vanar  chiefs  of  noblest  birth 
Have  at  my  bidding  roamed  the  earth, 
And  brought  from  distant  regions  all 
Our  legions  at  their  monarch's  call: 
Fierce  bears  with  monkey  troops  combined, 
And  a  pea  of  every  varied  kind, 
Terrific  in  their  forms,  who  dwell 
In  grove  and  wood  and  bosky  dell : 
The  bright  Gandharyas'  brood,  the  seed 
Of  Gods,'    they  change  their  shapes  at 

need. 

1  See  Book  I.  Canto  XVI, 


Each  with  his  legions  in  array, 
Hither,  O  Prince,  they  make  their  way. 
They  come  :  and  teus  of  millions  swell 
To  numbers  that  no  tongue  may  tell.1 
For  thee  their  armies  will  unite 
With  chiefs,  Mahendra's  peers  in  might. 
From  Meru  and  from  Vindhya's  chain 
They  come  like  clouds  that  bring  the  rain, 
These  round  tbee  to  the  war  will  go, 
To  smite  to  earth  thy  demon  foe  ; 
Will  slay  the  Rakshas  and  restore 
Thy  consort  when  the  fight  is  o'er.' 

CANTO  *XXXIX. 


THE  VANAR  HOST. 

Then  Rama,  best  of  all  who  guide 
Their  steps  by  duty,  thus  replied  : 
'  What  marvel  if  Lord  Indra  send 
The  kindly  rain,  O  faithful  friend? 
If,  thousand-rayed,  the  God  of  Day 
Drive  every  darksome  cloud  away? 
Or,  rising  high,  the  Lord  of  Night 
Flood  the  broad  heaven  with  silver  light  T 
What  marvel,  King,  that  one  like  thee 
The  glory  of  his  friends  should  be  ? 
No  marvel,  O  my  lord,  that  thou 
Hast  shown  thy  noble  nature  now. 
Thy  heart,  Sugriva,  well  I  know  : 
Naught  from  thy  lips  but  truth  may  flow. 
With  thee  for  friend  and  champion  all 
My  foes  beneath  my  arm  will  fall. 
The  Rakshas,  when  my  queen  he  stole. 
Brought  sure  destruction  on  his  soul, 
Like  Anuhlada*  who  beguiled 
Queen  $achi  called  Puloma's  child. 
Yes,  near,  Sugriva,  is  the  day 
When  I  my  demon  foe  shall  slay, 
As  conquering  Indra  in  his  ire 
Slew  Queen  Paulomi's  haughty  sire.'3 

1  The  numbers  are  unmanageable  in 
English  verse.  The  poet  speaks  of  hund- 
reds of  arbudas ;  and  an  arbuda  is  a 
hundred  millions. 

*  Anuhlada  or  Anuhrada  is  one  of 
the  four  sons  of  the  niighty  Hiranyaka- 
sipu,  an  Asur  or  a  Daitya  son  of  Kaayapa 
and  Diti  and  killed  by  Vishnu  in  his  in- 
carnation  of  the  Man-Lion  Narasinha.  Ac- 
cording to  the  Bhagavata  Purana  the  Dait- 
ya or  Asur  Hiranyakasipu  and  Hirany- 
aksha  his  brother^  both  killed  by  Vishnu, 
were  born  again  as  Ravan  and  Kumbha- 
karna  his  brother." 

3  Puloma,  a  demon,  was  the  father-in- 
law  of  Indra  who  destroyed  him  in  order 
to  avert  an  imprecation,  Paulomii  is  a 
patronymic  denoting  Sachi  the  daughter 
of 


Canto  XL, 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


371 


He  ceased  :  thick  clouds  of  dust  rose  high 
To  every  quarter  of  the  sky  : 
The  very  sun  grew  faint  and  pale 
Behind  the  darkly -gathering  veil. 
The  mighty  clouds  that  hung  overhead 
From  east  to  west  thick  darkness  spread, 
And  earth  to  her  foundations  shook 
With  hill  and  forest,  lake  and  brook. 
Then  hidden  was  the  ground  beneath 
Fierce  warriors  armed  with  fearful  teeth,, 
Hosts  numberless,  each  lord  in  size 
A  match  for  him  who  rules  the  skies  : 
From  many  a  sea  and  distant  hill, 
From  rock  and  river,  lake  and  rill. 
Some  like  the  morning  sun  were  bright, 
Some,  like  the  moon,  were  silver  white  : 
These  green  as  lotus  fibres,  those 
White-coated  from  their  native  snows.1 
Then  Satabali  came  in  view 
Girt  by  a  countless  retinue. 
Like  some  gold  mountain  high  in  air 
Tara's  illustrious  sire*  was  there. 
There  Ruma's  father,3  far-renowned, 
With  tens  of  thousands  ranged  around. 
There,  tinted  like  the  tender  green 
Of  lotus  filaments,  was  seen, 
Compassed  by  countless  legions,  one 
Whose  face  was  as  the  morning  sun, 
Hanuman's  father  good  and  great, 
Kesari,4  wisest  in  debate. 
There  the  proud  king  Gavaksha,  feared 
For  his  strong  warrior  arm,  appeared. 
There  Dhiimra,  mighty  lord,  the  dread 
Of  foes,  his  ursine  legions  led. 
There  Panaa,  first  for  warlike  fame, 
With  twenty  million  warriors  came. 
There  glorious  Nila,  dark  of  hue, 
Arrayed  his  countless  troops  in  view. 
There  moved  lord  Gavaya  brave  and  bold, 
Resplendent  like  a  hill  of  gold, 
And  near  him  Darimukha  stood 
With  millions  from  the  hill  and  wood. 
And  Dwivid  famed  for  strength  and  speed, 
And  Mainda,  both  of  Asvin  seed. 
There  Gaja,  strong  .and  glorious,  led 
The  countless  troops  around  him  spread, 
And  Jambav&n5  the  king  whose  sway 
The  bears  delighted  to  obey, 

1  "  Observe  the  variety  of  colours  which 
thepoem  attributes  to  all  these  inhabitants 
!of  the  different  mountainous  regions, 
some  white,  others  yellow,  &c.  Such  dif- 
ferent colours  were  perhaps  peculiar  and 
distinctive  characteristics  of  those  various 
races."  GORRESSIO. 

a  Sushen..        3  T6ra. 

4  Kesari  was  the  husband  of  Hanuman's 
mother,  and  is  here  called  his  father. 

*  "I  here  unite  under  one  heading  two 
.animals  of  very  diverse  nature  and  race, 


With  swarming  myriads  onward  pressed 
True  to  his  lor.d  Sugriva's  hest  ; 
And  princely  Human,  dear  to  fame, 
Led  millions  whom  no  hosts  could  tame. 
All  these  and  many  a  chief  beside1 
Came  onward  fierce  in  warlike  pride. 
They  covered  all  the  plain,  and  still 
Pressed  forward  over  wood  and  hill. 
In  rows  for  many  a  league  around 
They  rested  on  the  grassy  ground  ; 
Or  to  Sugriva  made  their  way, 
Like  clouds  about  the  Lord  of  Day, 
And  to  the  king  their  proud  heads  bent 
In  power  and  might  preeminent. 
Sugriva  then  to  Rama  sped. 
And  raised  his  reverent  hands,  and  said 
That  every  chief  from  coast  to  coast 
Was  present  with  his  warrior  host 


CANTO  XL. 

THE  ARMY  OF  THE  EAST. 

With  practised  eye  the  king  reviewed 
The  Vanars'  countless  multitude, 
And,  joying  that  his  hest  was  done, 
Thus  spake  to  Raghu's  mighty  son  : 
'  See,  all  the  Vanar  hosts  who  fear 
My  sovereign  might  are  gathered  here. 
Chiefs  strong  as  Indra's  self,  who  speed 
Wher'er  they  list,  these  armies  lead. 
Fierce  and  terrific  to  the  view 
As  Daityas  or  the  Dariav  *  crew, 


but  which  from  some  gross  resemblances, 
probably  helped  by  an  equivoque  in  the 
language,  are  closely  affiliated  in  the 

Hindoo  myth a  reddish  colour  of  the 

skin,  want  of  symmetry  and  ungainliness 
of  form,  strength  in  hugging  with  the  fore 
p&ws  or  arms,  the  faculty  of  climbing, 
shortness  of  tail  (?),  sensuality,  capacity 
of  instruction  in  dancing  and  in  music, 
are  all  characteristics  which  more  or  less 
distinguish  and  meet  in  bears  as  well  as 
in  monkeys.  In  the  Itdm.dyanam,  the 
wise  Jambavant,  the  Odysseus  of  the  ex- 
pedition of  Lanka,  is  called  now  king  of 
the  bears  (rikshaparthivah),  now  great 
monkey  ( Mahdtopih) .  DB  GUBERNATIB  : 
Zoological  Mythology,  Vol.  II.  p.  97. 

1  Gandhamadana,  Angad,  Tara,  Indra- 
ianu,    Rambha,    Durmukha,   Hanuman, 
Nala,    Darimukha,    Sarabha,    Kumuda, 
Vahni. 

2  Daityas  and  Danavas  are  fiends  and 
enemies  of  the  Gods,  like  the  Titans  of 
Greek  mythology. 


372 


THE  RAM  A  TAN. 


Bool:  IV. 


Famed  in  all  lands  for  souls  afire 
With  lofty  thought?,  they  never  tire, 
O'er  hill  and  vale  they  wander  free, 
And  islets  of  the  distant  sea. 
And  these  gathered  myriads,  all 
Will  serve  thee,  Rama,  at  thy  call. 
Whate'er  thy  heart  advises,  say  : 
Thy  mandates  will  the  host  obey.' 

Then  answered  Kama,  as  he  pressed 
The  Vanar  monarch  to  his  breast : 
'  O  search  for  my  lost  Sita,  strive 
To  find  her  if  she  still  survive  : 
And  in  thy  wondrous  wisdom  trace    • 
Fierce  Ravan  to  his  dwelling-place. 
And  when  by  toil  and  search  we  know 
Where  Sita  lies  and  where  the  foe, 
With  thee,  dear  friend,  will  I  devise 
Fit  means  to  end  the  enterprise. 
Not  mine,  not  Lakshman's  is  the  power 
To  guide  us  in  the  doubtful  hour. 
Thou,  sovereign  of  the  Variars,  thou 
Must  be  our  hope  and  leader  now,' 

He  ceased  :  at  King  Sugriva's  call 
Near  came  a  Vanar  strong  and  tall, 
Huge  as  a  towering  mountain,  loud 
As  some  tremendous  thunder  cloud, 
A  prince  who  war  like  legions  led : 
To  him  his  sovereign  turned  and  said  : 
'  Go.  take  ten  thousand1  of  our  race 
Well  trained  in  lore  of  time  and  place, 
And  search  the  eastern   region  ;    through 
Groves,  woods,  ane  hills  thy  way  pursue. 
There  seek  for  Sita,  trace  the  spot 
Where  Ravan  hides,  and  weary  not. 
Search  for  the  captive  in  the  caves 
Of  mountains,  and  by  woods  and  waves. 
To  iSurju, *  Kausiki,3  repair, 
BhagirMth's  daughter4  fresh  and  fair. 
Search  mightv  Yamun's5  peak,  explore 
Swift  Yamuna's6  delightful  shore, 
Sarasvati7  and  Sindhu's8  tide, 

1  I  reduce  the  unwieldy  numbers  of  the 
original  to  more  modest  figures. 

*  Saray u  now  Sarju  is  the  river  on  whic  h 
Ayodhya  was  built. 

3  Kausiki  is  a  river  which  flows  through 
Behar,  commonly  called  Kosi. 

4  Bhagirath's  daughter  is  Ganga  or  the 
Gauges.Tho  leirend  is  told  at  length  in  Book 
I.  Canto  X.L1V.  The  Descent  of  Gang  a. 

5  A  mountain  not  identified. 

6  The  Jumna.  The  river  is  personified  as 
the  twin  sister  of  Yama,  and  hence  regar- 
ed   as  the  daughter  of  the  hun. 

7  The    Sarasvati    (corruptly  called  Sur- 
aooty,  is  supposed  to  join  the  Ganges    and 
•Jumna  at   Prayag  or  Allahabad.  It  rises 
in  the  mountains  bounding  the  north-east 


And  rapid  Nona's1  pebbly  Ri'-3e, 

Then  roam  atar  by  Mahi's2  bed 

Where  Kalamahi's  groves  are  spread. 

Go  where  the  silken  tissue  shines, 

Go  to  the  land  of  silver  mines.3 

Visit  each  isle  and  mountain  steep 

And  city  circled  by  the  deep, 

And  distant  villages  that  high 

About  the  peaks  of  Mandar  lie. 

Speed  over  Yavadwipa's  land,4 

And  see  Mount  £igir5  proudly  stand 

Uplifting  to  the  skies  his  head 

By  Gods  and  D&navs  visited. 

Search  each  ravine  and  mountain  pass, 

Each  tangled  thicket  deep  in  grass. 

Search  every  cave  with  utmost  care 

If  haply  Rama's  queen  be  there. 

Then  pass  beyond  the  sounding  sea 

Where  heavenly  beings  wander  free. 

And  Nona's6  waters  swift  and  strong 

With  ruddy  billows  foam  along. 

Search  where  his  shelving  banks  descend, 

Search  where  the  hanging  woods  extend  : 

Try  if  the  pathless  thickets  screen 

The  robber  and  the  captive  queen. 

Search  where  the  torrent  floods  that  rend 

The  mountain  to  the  plains  descend  : 

Search  dark  abysses  where  they  rave, 

Search  mountain  slope  and  wood  and  cave. 

Then  on  with  rapid  feet,  and  gain 

The  islands  of  the  fearful  main 

Where,  tortured  by  the  tempest's  lash, 

Against  rude  rocks  the  billows  dash  : 

An  ocean  like  a  gable  cloud, 

Whose  margent  monstrous  serpents  crowd : 


part  of  the  province  of  Dehli,  and  running 
in  a  south -westerly  direction  becomes  lost 
in  the  sandd  of  the  great  desert. 

8  TheSindhuisthe  Indus,  the  Sanskrit  t 
becoming  h  in  Persian  and;  being  in  this 
instance  dropped  by  the  Greeks. 

1  The  Sone  which  rises  in  the  district  of 
Nagpore  and  falls  into  the  Ganges  above 
Patna. 

*  Mahi  is  a  river  rising  in  Malwa  and 
falling  into  the  gulf  of  Cambay  after  a 
westerly  course  of  ^80  miles. 

3  There  is  nothing  to  show   what  parts 
of  the  country  the  poet  intended  to  denote 
aa  silk-producing  and  silver-producing. 

4  Yavadwipa  means  the  island  of  Yava, 
wherever  that  may  be. 

5  Sisir  is  Raid  to  be  a  mountain  ridge 
projecting  from  the  base  of  Mem  on  the 
south.   WILSON'S     Vishnu    Purdna,    ed. 
Hall,  Vol.11,  p.  117. 

6  This  appears  to  be    some    mythical 
stream  and  not  the  well-known  Sone,  The 
name  means  red-coloured. 


'Canto  XL. 


Till-   RAMAYAN. 


373 


An  ocean  rising  with  a  roar 
To  bent  upon  au  iron  shore. 
On,  onward  still  !  your  feet  shall  tread 
Shores  of  the  sea  whose  waves  are  red, 
Where  spreading  wide  your  eyes  shall  see 
The  guilt-tormenting  cotton  tree  ' 
And  the  wild  spot  where  Garud*  dwells 
Which  gems  adorn  and  ocean  shells, 
High  as  Kailasa,  nobly  decked. 
Wrought  by  the  heavenly  architect.5 
Huge  giants  named  M  and  eh  as4  there 
In  each  foul  shape  they  love  to  wear, 
Numbing  the  soul  with  terror's  chill, 
Hang  from  the  summit  of  the  hill. 
When  darts  the  sun  his  earliest  beam 
They  plunge  them  in  the  ocean  stream, 
New  vigour  from  his  rays  obtain, 
And  hang  upon  the  rocks  again. 
Speed  onward  still:    your  steps  shall   be 
At  length  beside  the  Milky  Sea 
Who.se  every  ripple  as  it  curls 
Gleams  glorious  with  its  wealth  of  pearls. 
Amid  that  sea  like  pale  clouds  spread 
The  white  Mount  Kishabh&  rears  bis  head. 
About  the  mountain's  glorious  waist 
Woods  redolent  of  bloom  are  braced. 
A  lake  where  lotuses  unfold 
Their  silver  buds  with  threads  of  gold, 
Sudaraan  ever  bright  and  fail- 
Where  white  swans  sport,  lies  gleaming 

there, 

The  wandering  Kinnar's6  dear  resort, 
Where  heavenly    nymphs  and  Yakshas7 


1  A  fabulous  thorny  rod  of  the  cotton 
tree  used  for  torturing  the  wicked  in  hell. 
The  tree  gives  its  name,  Salmali,  to 
one  of  the  seven  Dwipas  or  great  divisions 
of  the  known  continent :  arid  also  to  a 
hell  where  the  wicked  are  tormented  with 
the  pickles  of  the  tree. 

*  The  king  of  the  feathered  creation. 

3  Visvakarma,  the  Mulciber  of  the  In- 
diau  heaven. 

4  "The  terrific  fiends  named  Mandehas 
attempt,  to  devour  the  sun  :  for    Brahma 
denounced   this  curse    upon   them,   that 
without  the  power  to  perish   they  should 
die  every  day  (and  revive  by   night)   and 
therefore  a  fierce  contest  occurs  (daily) 
between  them  and  the  sun." 

WILSON'S  Vishnu  Parana,  Vol.  II,  p.  250. 

5  Said  in  the  Vishnu  Pur  ana  to   be  a 
ridge  projecting  from  the  base  of  Meru  to 
the  north. 

6  Kinnars  are  centaurs  reversed,  beings 
with  equine  heads  and  human  bodies. 

7  Yakshas  are  demi-gods  attendant  on 
Kuvera  the  God  of  wealth, 


On  !  leave  the  Milky  Sea  behind  : 
Another  flood  your  search  shall  lind, 
A  waste  of  waters,  wild  and  drear. 
That  chills  each  living  heart  with  fear. 
There  see  the  horse's  awful  head, 
Wrath-born,  that  flames  in  Ocean's  bed. l 
There  rises  up  a  fearful  cry 
From  the  sea  things  that  move  thereby, 
When,  helpless,  powerless  for  flight, 
They  gaze  upon  the  horrid  sight. 
Past  to  the  northern  shore,  and  then 
Beyond  the  flood  three  leagues  and  ten 
Your  wondering  glances  will  behold 
Mount  Jatarupa2  bright  with  gold. 
There  iike  the  young  moon  pale  of  hue 
The  monstrous  serpent3  will  ye  view, 
The  earth's  supporter,  whose  bright  eyes 
Resemble  lotus  leaves  in  size. 
He  rests  upon  the  mountain's  brow, 
And  all  the  Gods  before  him  bow. 
Ananta  with  a  thousand  heads 
His  length  in  robes  of  azure  spreads. 
A  triple-headed  palm  of  gold- 
Meet  standard  for  the  lofty-souled — 
Springs  towering  from  the  mountain's  crest 
Beneath  whose  shade  he  loves  to  rest, 
So  that  in  eastern  realms  each  God 
May  use  it  as  a  measuring-rod. 
Beyond,  with  burning  gold  aglow, 
The  eastern  steep  hi*  peaks  will  show, 
Which  in  unrivalled  glory  rise 
A  hundred  leagues  to  pierce  the  skies, 
And  all  the  neighbouring  air  is  bright 
With  golden  trees  that  clothe  the  height. 
A  lofty  peak  uprises  there 
Ten  leagues  in  height  and  one  league  squarri 
Saumanas,  wrought  of  glistering  gold, 
Ne'er  to  be  loosened  from  its  hold. 
There  his  first  step  Lord  Vishnu  placed 
When  through  the  universe  he*  paced. 
And  with  his  second  lightly  pressed 
The  loftiest  peak  of  Meru's  crest. 
When  north  of  Jambudwip4  the  sun 


1  Aurva  was  one  of  the  descendants  of 
Bhrigu.  From  his  wrath  proceeded  a  flame 
that  threatened  to  destroy  the  world,  had 
not  Aurva  cast  it  into  the  ocean  where  it 
remained  concealed,  and  having  the  face 
of  a  horse.  The  legend  is  told  in  the 
Mahabhdrat.  I.  6802. 

*  The  word  Jatarupa  means  gold. 

3  The  celebrated  mythological  serpent 
king  Sesiia,   called  also  Ananta  or  the 
infinite,  represented  as  bearing  the  earth 
on  one  of  his  thousand  heads. 

4  Jambudwipa  is  in  the  centre  of  the 
seven   great    drvipas  or  continents  into 
which  the  world  is  divided,  and  in  the 
centre  of  Jambudwipa    ia    the    golden 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  IV. 


A  portion  of  his  course  has  run, 
And  hangs  above  this  mountain  height, 
Then  creatures  see  the  genial  light. 
Vaikhanases,1  saints  far  renowned, 
And  Balakhilyas*  love  the  ground 
Where  in  their  glory  half  divine, 
Touched  by  the  morning  glow,  they  shine 
The  light  that  flashes  from  that  steep 
Illumines  all  Sudarsandwip,3 
And  on  each  creature,  as  it  glows, 
The  sight  and  strength  of  life  bestows. 
Search  well  that  mountain's  woody  side 
If  Ravan  there  his  captive  hide. 
The  rising  sun,  the  golden  hill 
Tbe  air  with  growing  splendours  fill, 
Till  flashes  from  the  east  the  red 
Of  morning  with  the  light  they  shed. 
This,  where  the  sun  begins  his  state, 
Is  earth  and  heaven's  most  eastern  gate. 
Through  all  the  mountain  forest  seek 
By  waterfall  and  cave  and  peak. 
Search  every  nook  and  bosky  dell, 
If  Ravan  there  with  Sita  dwell. 
There,  Vanars,  there  your  steps  must  stay  • 
No  farther  eastward  can  ye  stray. 
Beyond  no  sun,  no  moon  gives  light, 
But  all  is  sunk  in  endless  night. 
Thus  far,  O  Vanar  lords,  may  you 
O'er  sea  and  land  your  search  pursue. 
But  wild  and  dark  and  known  to  none 
Is  the  drear  space  beyond  the  sun. 
That  mountain  whence  the  sun  ascends 
Your  long  and  weary  journey  ends.* 
Now  go,  and  in  a  month  return, 
And  let  success  my  praises  earn. 
He  who  beyond  the  month  shall  stay 
Will  with  his  life  the  forfeit  pay.' 


CANTO  XLT. 


mountain  Meru  84,000  yojans  high,  and 
crowned  by  the  great  city  of  Brahma. 
See  WILSON'S  Vishnu  Pur  ana,  Vol.  II. 
p.  110. 

1  Vaikhanases  are  a  race  of  hermit 
saints  said  to  have  sprung  from  the  nails 
of  Prajapati, 

*  "The  wife  of  Kratu,  Samnati,  brought 
forth  the  sixty  thousand  Valakhilyas, 
pigmy  sages,  no  bigger  than  a  joint  of  the 
thumb,  chaste,  pious,  resplendent  as  the 
rays  of  the  Sun,"  WILSON'S  Vishnu 
JPurdna, 

3  The  continent  in  which  Sudarsan  or 
Meru  stands,  i.  e.  Jambudwip. 

4  The  names  of  some  historical  peoples 
which  occur  in  this   Canto   and  in  the 
Cantos  describing  the  south  and  north 
will  be  found  in  the  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 
They  are  bare  lists,  not  susceptible  of  a 
metrical  version, 


THE  ARMY  OF  THE  SOUTH. 

He  gathered  next  a  chosen  band 
For  service  in  the  southern  land. 
He  summoned  Nila  son  of  Fire, 
And.  offspring  of  the  eternal  Sire, 
Jambavan  bold  and  strong-  aad  tall, 
And  Hanuman,  the  best  of  all, 
And  many  a  valiant  lord  beside,1 
With  Angad  for  their  chief  and  guide. 
'  Go  forth,'  he  cried,  '  with  all  this  host 
Exploring  to  the  southern  coast  : 
The  thousand  peaks  that  Vindhya  shows 
Where  every  tree  and  creeper  grows  : 
Where  Narmada's*  sweet  waters  run, 
And  serpents  bask  them  in  the  sun  : 
Where  Krishnavenf 3  currents  flee, 
And  sparkles  fair  Godavari.4 
Through  Mekhal&  pass  and  Dtkal's6  land  : 
Go  where  Dasarna  s7  cities  stand. 
Avanti8  seek,  of 'high  renown, 
And  Abravanti's9  glorious  town. 
Search  every  hill  and  brook  and  cave 
Where  Dandak's  woods  their  branches  wave 
Ayomukh's10  woody  hill  explore 
Whose  sides  are  bright  with  richest  ore,  , 
Lifting  his  glorious  head  on  high 
From  bloomy  groves  that  round  him  lie. 

1  Suhotra,  £arari,  $aragulrna,  Ga^a, 
Gav&ksha,  Gavaya,  Sushena,  Garidhama- 
dana,  Ulkamukha,  and  Anaiiga. 

z  The  modern  Nerbudda. 

3  Krishnaveni  is  mentioned  in  the  Vish- 
nu Purana  as  *kthe  deep  Krishnaveni" 
out  there  appears  to  be  no  clue  to  its 
identification. 

*  The  modern  Godavery, 

5  The  Mekhalas  or  Mekalas  according 
to  the  Puranas  live  in  the  Vindhya  hills 
but  here  they  appear  among  the  peoples 
of  the  south. 

6  Utkal  is  still  the  native  name  of  Orissa. 

7  The  land  of  the  people  of  the  *  ten 
forts.'  Professor  Hall  in  a  note  on  WIL- 
SON'S  Vighnu  Purana,Vo\.  II.  p.  160 says: 
«'  The  oral  traditions  of  the  vicinity  tothia 
day  assign  the  name  of  Dasarn&  to  a  re- 
gion lying  to  the  east  of  the  District  of 
Chundeyree." 

8  Avanti  is  one  of  the  ancient  names  of 
the  celebrated  Ujjayin  or  Oujein  in  Cen- 
tral India. 

9  Not  identified. 

10  Ayomukh  means   iron    faced.     The 
mountain  is  not  identified, 


Canto  XLI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


•375 


Search  well  his  forests  where  the  breeze 
Blows  fragrant  from  the  sandal  trees. 
Then  will  you  see  Kaveri's1  stream 
Whose  pleasant  waters  glance  and  gleam 
And  to  the  lovely  banks  entice 
The  sportive  maids  of  Paradise. 
High  on  the  top  of  Malaya's2  hill, 
In  holy  musing,  calm  and  still, 
Sits,  radiant  as  the  Lord  of  Light, 
Agastya,3  noblest  anchorite. 
Soon  as  that  iofty-thoughted  lord 
His  high  permission  shall  accord, 
Pass  TamraparniV  flood  whose  isles 
Are  loved  by  basking  crocodiles. 
The  sandal  woods  that  fringe  her  side 
Those  islets  and  her  waters  hide; 
While,  like  an  amorous  matron,  she 
Speeds  to  her  own  dear  lord  the  sea. 
Thence  hasting  on  your  way  behold 
The  Ptindyas'5  gates  of  pearl  and  gold. 
Then,  with  your  task  maturely  planned, 
On  ocean's  shore  your  feet  will  stand. 
Where,  by  Agastya's  high  decree, 
Mahendra,6  planted  in  the  sea, 
With  tinted  peaks  against  the  tide 
Rises  in  solitary  pride, 
And  glorious  in  his  golden  glow 
{Spurns  back  the  waves  that  beat  below. 
Fair    mountain,    bright    with    creepers' 

bloom 

And  every  tint  that  trees  assume, 
Where  Yaksha,  God,  and  heavenly  maid 
Meet  wandering  in  the  lovely  shade, 
At  changing  moon  and  solemn  tide 
By  Indra's  presence  glorified. 
One  hundred  leagues  in  fair  extent 
An  island7  fronts  the  continent : 
No  man  may  tread  its  glitering  shore  : 
With  utmost  heed  that  isle  explore, 
For  the  fair  country  owns  the  sway 
Of  Ravan  whom  we  burn  to  slay. 

1  The  Kaveri  or  modern  Cauvery  is 
well  known  and  has  always  borne  the 
same  appellation,  being  the  Chaberis  of 
Ptolemy. 

55  One  of  the  seven  principal  mountain 
chains:  the  southern  portion  of  the  Western 
Ghat*. 

3  Agastya  is  the  great  sage  who  has 
already  frequently  appeared  as  Rama's 
friend  and  benefactor. 

4  Tamraparni  is  a  river  rising  in  Malaya. 
5ThePandyasareapeople  of  theDeocan. 

6  Mahendra   is  the  chain  of  hills  that 
extends  from    Orissa  and  the  northern 
Sircars  to  Gondwana,  part  of  which  near 
Ganjam  ia  still  called  Mahendra  Malay 
or  hills  of  Mahendra. 

7  Lanka,    Sinhaladvipa,    Sarandib,  or 
Ceylon. 


A  mighty  monster  stands  to  keep 
The  passage  of  the  southern  deep. 
Lifting  her  awful  arms  on  high 
She  grasps  e'en  shadows  as  they  fly. 
Speed  through  that  isle,  and  onward  still 
Where  in  mid  sea  the  Flowery  Hill1 
Raises  on  high  his  bloomy  head 
By  saints  and  angels  visited. 
There,  with  a  hundred  gleaming  peaks 
Bright  as  the  sun,  the  sky  he  seeks, 
One  glorious  peak  the  Lord  of  Day 
Gilds  ever  with  his  loving  ray  : 
Thereon  ne'er  yet  the  glances  fell 
Of  thankless  w  ret  oh  or  infidel. 
Bow  to  that  hill  in  reverence  due, 
And  then  once  more  your  search  pursue. 
Beyond  that  glorious  mountain  hie, 
And  Suryavan,*  proud  hill  is  nigh. 
Your  rapid  course  yet  farther  bend 
Where  Vaidyut's3  airy  peaks  ascend, 
There  trees  of  noblest  sort,  profuse 
Of  wealth,  their  kindly  gifts  produce. 
Their  precious  fruits,  O  Vunars,  taste, 
The  honey  sip,  and  onward  haste. 
Next  will  ye  see  Mount  Kunjar  rise, 
Who  cheers  with  beauty  hearts  and  eyes. 
There  is  Agastya's4  mansion,  decked 
By  heaven's  all  moulding  architect. 
Near  Bhogavati3  stands,  the  place 
Where  dwell  the  hosts  of  serpent  race: 
A  broad- wayed  city,  walled  and  barred, 
Which  watchful  legions  keep  and  guard, 
The  fiercest  of  the  serpent  youth, 
Each  awful  for  his  venomed  tooth  : 
And  throned  in  his  imperial  hall 
Is  Vasuki6  who  rules  them  all. 
Explore  the  serpent  city  well, 
Search  town  and  tower  and  citadel, 
And  scan  each  field  and  wood  that  lies 
Around  it,  with  your  watchful  eyes. 
Beyond  that  spot  your  way  pursue  : 
A  noble  mountain  shall  ye  view, 
Earned  Rishabh,  like  a  mighty  bull, 
With  gems  made  bright  and  beautiful. 


1  The  Flowery  Hill  of  course  is   my- 
hical. 

2  The  whole  of  the  geography  south  of 
ianka  is  of  course  mythical,    Suryavan 

means  Sunny. 

3  Vaidyut  means  connected  with  light- 
ning. 

4  Agastya  is  here  placed  far  to  the  south 
Lanka.    Earlier  in  this  Canto  he  was 

aid  to  dwell  on  Malaya. 

5  Bhogavati  has  been  frequently  men- 
ioned  :  it  is  the  capital  of  the  serpent 
jods  or  demons,  and  usually  represented 

as  being  in  the  regions  under  the  earth. 

6  Vasuki  is  according  to  some  accounts 
lie  king  of  the  Nugas  or  serpent  Gods. 


376 


THE  RAM  AY  AX. 


Boole  IV 


Ail  trees  of  sandal  flourish  there 

Of  heavenly  fragrance,  rich  and  rare. 

But,  though  they  tempt  your  longing  eyes, 

Avoid  to  toucli  them,  and  be  wise. 

For  Kohitas,  a  guardian  hand 

Of  fierce  Gandharvas.  round  them  stand, 

Who  five  bright  sovereign  lords'  obey, 

In  glory  like  the  God  of  Bay. 

Here  by  good  deeds  a  home  is  won, 

With  shapes  like  tire,  the  moon,  the  sun. 

Here  they  who  merit  heaven  by  worth 

Dwell  on  the  confines  of  the  earth. 

There  stay  :  beyond  it.  dark  and  drear, 

Lies  the  departed  spirits1  sphere, 

And,  girt  with  darkness,  far  from  bliss, 

Is  Yama's  sad  metropolis.2 

So  far,  my  lords,  o'er  land  and  sea 

Your  destined  course  is  plain  and  free. 

Beyond  your  steps  you  may  not  set, 

Where  living  thing  ne'er  journeyed  yet. 

With  utmost  care  these  realms  survey, 

And  all  you  meet  upon  the  way. 

And,  when  the  lady's  course  is  traced, 

Hack  to  your  king,  O  Vanars,  haste. 

And  he  who  tells  me  he  has  seen, 

After  long  search,  the  Maithil  queen, 

Shall  gain  a  noble  guerdon  :  he 

la  power  and  bliss  shall  equal  me. 

Dear  as  my  very  life,  above 

His  fellows  in  his  master's  love  ; 

I  call  him,  yea  though  stained  with  crime, 

My  Uinoman  from  uiat  happy  time.' 

CANTO  XLIL 


THE  ARMY  OF  THE  WEST. 

Then  to  Sushen  Sugriva  bent, 
And  thus  addressed  him  reverent : 
'  Two  hundred  thousand  of  our  best 
With  thee.  my  lord,  shall  seek  the  west, 
E:cpmre  Sur.-'ishtra's3  distant  plain, 
Explore  Vahlika's1  wild  domain, 
Ami  all  the  pleasant  brooks  that  fiee 
Tiirmgh  mountains  to  the  western  sea. 
fcdaroh.   clustering    groves    on    mountain 

heights, 

And  woods  the  whom  of  anchorites. 
Si.-ar j!i  where  the  breezy  hills  are  high, 
Se-an-h  where  the  desert  regions  lie. 
^e:n-j:i  ail  the  western  land  beset 


!  Saiiizsha,  Gramini.  Siksha,  Suka,  Ba- 
bhru. 

*  The  distant  south  beyond  the  confines 
of  the  earch  is  the  home  of  departed  spirits 
and  the  city  of  Varna  the  God  of  Death. 

3,Surashtra,  the 'good  country,'  is  the 
modern  Surat. 

"•  A  ;oiaitry  north-wett  of  Afghanistan, 
Baikh, 


With  woody  mountains  like  a  net. 
The  country's  farthest  limit  reach, 
And  stand  upon  the  ocean  beach. 
There  wander  through  the  groves  of  palir 
Where  the  soft  air  is  full  of  balm. 
Through  grassy  dell  and  dark  ravine 
Seek  Kavan  and  the  Maithil  queen. 
Go  visit  Somagiri's1  steep 
Where  Siudhu2  mingles  with  the  deep. 
There  lions,  borne  on  swift  wings,  roam 
The  levels  of  their  mountain  home, 
And  elephants  and  monsters  bear, 
Caught  from  the  ocean,  to  their  lair. 
You  Vanars,  changing  forms  at  will. 
With  rapid  search  must  scour  the  hill, 
And  his  sky-kissing  peak  of  gold 
Where  loveliest  trees  their  blooms  unfold 
There  golden  peaked,  ablaze  with  light, 
Uprises  Pariyatra's3  height 
Where  wild  Gandharvas,  fierce  and  fell, 
In  bands  of  countless  myriads  dwell. 
Pluck  ye  no  fruit  within  the  wood  ; 
Beware  the  impious  neighbourhood^ 
Where,  very  mighty,  strong",  and  hard 
To  overcome,  the  fruit  they  guard. 
Yet  search  for  Janak's  daughter  still, 
For  Vanars  there  need  fear  no  ill. 
Near,  bright  as  turkis,  Vaj;-a4  named, 
There  stands  a  hill  of  diamond  framed. 
Soaring  a  hundred  leagues  in  pride, 
With  trees  and  creepers  glorified. 
Search  there  each  cave  and  dark  abyss 
By  waterfall  and  precipice. 
Far  in  that  sea  the  wild  waves  beat 
On  t  hakravan's5  firm- rooted  feet. 
Wheiv  the  great  discus.6  thousand  rayed 
By  Visvakarma's7  art  was  made. 
When  Panchajan8  the  fiend  was  slain. 
And  Hayagriva,9  fierce  in  vain, 


1  The  Moon-mountain  here  is  mythical 
z  Si n dim  is  the  Indus. 

3  Piiriyatrn,  or  as  more   usually  writtei 
Paripatra,  is  the  central  or   western   por 
tion  of  the   Vindhya  chain   which  skirt 
the  province  of  Malwa. 

4  Vajra  means  both  diamond  and  thun 
derbolt,  the  two  substances  being  suppos 
ed  to  be  identical. 

5  Chakravan  means  the  discus-bearer. 

6  The  discus  is  the  favourite  weapon  o 
Vishnu. 

7  The  Indian  Hephaistos  or  Vulcan. 

8  Panchajan  was  a  demon  who    lived  ii 
the  sea   in   the   form   of   a   conch   shell 
WILSON'S  Vishnu  Pur  tin  a  >  V.  21. 

9  Hayagriva," Horse-necked,  is  the  nann 
of  a  Daitya  who  at  the  dissolution  of  th« 
universe  caused  by  Brahma's  sleep.  seize< 
and  carried  off  the  Vedas.     Vishnu   slew- 
him  and  recovered  the  sacred  treasured. 


•Canto  XL  Til. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


377 


Thence  taking  shell  and  discus  went 
Lord  Vishnu,  God  preeminent. 
On  !  sixty  thousand  hills  of  gold 
With  wondering  eyes  shall  ye  behold, 
Where  in  his  glory  every  one 
Is  brilliant  as  the  morning  sun. 
Full  in  the  midst  King  Meru.1  best 
Of  mountains,  lifts  his  lofty  crest, 
On  whom  of  yore,  as  all  have  heard, 
The  sun  well-pleased  this  boon  conferred: 
*  On  thee,  O  King,  on  thee  and  thine 
Light,  day  and  night,  shall  ever  shine. 
Gandharvas,  Gods  who  love  thee  well 
And  on  thy  sacred  summits  dwell, 
Undi  mined  in  lustre,  bright  and  fair, 
The  golden  sheen  shall  ever  share.' 
The  Viavas,a  Vasus,3  they  who  ride 
The  tempest,4  every  God  beside, 
Draw  nigh  to  Meru's  lofty  crest 
When  evening  darkens  in  the  west, 
And  to  the  parting  Lord  of  Day 
The  homage  of  their  worship  pay, 
Ere  yet  a  while,  unseen  of  all, 
Behind  Mount  Asta'rs5  peaks  he  fall. 
Wrought  by  the  heavenly  artist's  care 
A  glorious  palace  glitters  there, 
And  round  about  it  sweet  birds  sing 
Where  the  gay  trees  are  blossoming  : 

1  Meru  stands  in  the  centre  of  Jambu- 
dwipa  and  consequently  of  the  earth. 
"  The  sun  travels  round  the  world,  keep- 
ing Meru  always  on  his  right,  To  the  spec- 
tator who  fronts  him,  therefore,  as  he 
rises  Meru  must  be  always  on  the  north  ; 
and  as  the  sun's  rays  do  not  penetrate  be- 
yond the  centre  of  the  mountain,  the  re- 
gions beyond,  or  to  the  north  of  it  must 
Be  in  darkness,  whilst  those  on  the  south 
of  it  must  be  in  light :  north  and  south 
being  relative,  not  absolute,  terms,  de- 
pending on  the  position  of  the  spectator 
with  regard  to  the  Sun  and  Meru."  WIL- 
SON'S Vishnu  Pnrdna,  Vol.  II.  p.  243.  Note. 

*  The  Visvadevas  are  a  class  of  deities 
to  whom  sacrifices  should  be  daily  offered, 
as  part  of  the  ordinary  worship  of  the 
householder.  According  to  the  Vdyu  Pu- 
rdna,  this  is  a  privilege  conferred  on 
them  by  Brahma  and  the  Pitris  as  a  re- 
ward for  religious  austerities  practised  by 
them  upon  Himalaya. 

3  The  eight  Vasus  were  originally  per- 
sonifications like  other  Vedic  deities,  of 
natural  phenomena,  such  as  Fire,  Wind, 
&c*.  Their  appellations  are  variously  given 
by  different  authorities. 

'4  The  Marutsor  Storm-Gods,  frequently 
addressed  and  worshipped  as  the  attend- 
ants and  allies  of  Tndra. 

5The  mountain  behind  which  the  sun  sets. 


The  home  of  Varun1  high  soul  ed- lord, 
Wrist-girded  with  his  deadly  cord.- 
With  ten  tall  stems,  a  palm  between 
Meru  and  Asta's  hill  is  seen: 
Pure  silver  from  the  base  it  spring, 
And  far  and  wide  its  lustre  flings' 
Seek  Kavan  and  the  dame  by  brook, 
In  pathless  glen,  in  leafy  nook, 
On  Meru's  crest  a  hermit  lives 
Bright  with  the  light  that  penance  gives  : 
Savarni3  is  he  named,  renowned 
As  Brahma's  peer,  with  glory  crowned. 
There  bowing  down  in  reverence  speak 
And  ask  him  of  the  dame  you  seek. 
Thus  far  the  splendid  Lord  of  Day 
Pursues  through  heaven  his  ceaseless  way, 
Shedding  on  every  spot  his  light : 
Then  sinks  behind  Mount  Asta's  height, 
Thus  far  advance  :  the  sunless  sea 
Beyond  is  all  unknown  to  me. 
Sushen  of  mighty  arm.  long  tried 
In  peril,  shall  your  legions  guide. 
Receive  his  words  with  high  respect, 
And  ne'er  his  lightest  wish  neglect. 
He  is  my  consort's  sire,  and  hence 
Deserves  the  utmost  reverence.' 


CANTO  XLIII. 


THE  ARMY  OF  THE  NORTH. 

Forth  went  the  legions  of  the  west  : 
And  wise  Sugriva  then  addressed 
Satabal.  summoned  from  the  crowd, 
To  whom  the  sovereign  cried  aloud  : 
'  Go  forth,  O  Vanar  chief,  go  forth, 
Explore  the  regions  of  the  north. 
Thy  host  a  hundred  thousand  be, 
And  Yama's  sons4  attend  on  thee. 
With  dauntless  courage,  strength,  and  skill 
Search  every  river,  wood,  and  hill. 
Through  every  laud  in  order  go 
Eight  onward  to  the  Hills  of  ^now. 
Search  mid  the  peaks  that  shine  afar, 
In  woods  of  Lodh  and  Deodar.6 
Search  if  with  Jaiiak's  daughter,  screened 
By  sheltering  rocks,  there  lie  the  fiend. 

1  One  of  the  oldest  and  mightiest  ot  the 
Vedic  deities  ;  in  later  mythology  regard- 
ed as  the  God  of  the  sea. 

2  The   knotted    noose  with    which    he 
seizes  and  punishes  transgressors. 

3  Savarni  is  a   Maim,   offspring   of   tba 
Sun  by  Cnhaya. 

4  The  poet  has  not  said  who  the  sons  of 
Yam  a  are. 

5  The     Lodhra    or    Lodh    (Symplocoa 
Racemosa)  and  the  Devaduru  or 

are  well  known  trees. 


378 


THE  It  AM  AY  AN. 


Boole  IV 


The  holy  grounds  of  Soma  tread 

By  Gods  and  minstrels  visited. 

Reach  Kala's  mount,  and  flats  that  lie 

Among  the  peaks  that  tower  on  high. 

Then  leave  that  hill  that  gleams  with  ore, 

And  fair  Sudarsan's  heights  explore. 

Then  on  to  Devasakha1  hie. 

Loved  by  the  children  cf  the  sky, 

A  dreary  land  you  then  will  see 

Without  a  hill  or  brook  or  tree, 

A  hundred  leagues,  bare,  wild,  and  dread 

In  lifeless  desolation,  spread. 

Pursue  your  onward  way,  and  haste 

Through  the  dire  horrors  of  the  waste 

Until  triumphant  with  delight 

You  reach  Kailasa's  glittering  height. 

There  stands  a  palace  decked  with  gold, 

F  >r  King  Kuvera?  wrought  of  old, 

A  home  tlie  heavenly  artist  planned 

And  fashioned  with  his  cunning  hand. 

There  lotuses  adorn  the  flood 

With  full-blown  flower  and  opening  bud 

Where  swans  and  mallards  float,  and  gay 

Apsarases?  come  down  to  play. 

There  King  Vaigravan's4  self,  the  lord 

By  all  the  universe  adored. 

Who  golden  gifts  to  mortals  sends, 

Lives  with  the  Guhyakas5  his  friends. 

Search  every  cavern  in  £he  steep, 

And  green  glens  where  the  moonbeams 

sleep, 

If  haply  in  that  distant  ground 
The  robber  and  the  dame  be  found. 
Then  on  to  Krauncha's  bill,*  and  through 
His  fearful  pass  your  way  pursue  : 
Though  dark  and  terrible  the  vale 
Your  wonted  courage  must  not  fail. 
There  through  abyss  and  cavern  seek, 
On  lofty  ridge,  and  mountain  peak. 
On,  on !  pursue  your  journey  still 
By  valley,  Jake,  and  towering  hill. 
Beach  the  North  Kurus'  land,  where  rest 
The  holy  spirits  of  the  blest : 
Where  golden  buds  of  lilies  gleam 
Resplendent  on  the  silver  stream, 


1  The  hills  mentioned  are  not  identi- 
fiable. Soma  means  the  Moon.  Kala,  black; 
Sudarasan,  fair  to  see;  and  Devasakha, 
friend  of  the  Gods. 

3  The  God  of  Wealth. 

3  The  nymphs  oj:  Paradise. 

4  Kuvera  ithe  son  of  Visravaa. 

5  A  class  of  demigods  who,  like  the 
Yakshas,  are  the  attendants  of  Kuvera, 
and  the  guardians  of  his  treasures. 

6  Situated  in  the  eastern  part  of  the 
Himalaya  chain,  on  the  north  of  Assam. 
The  mountain  was  torn  asunder  and  the 
pass  formed  by  the  War- God  Kurtjkeya 
and  Parasurama. 


And  leaves  of  azure  turkis  throw 
Soft  splendour  on  the  waves  below. 
Bright  as  the  sun  at  early  rnorn 
Fair  pools  that  happy  clime  adorn, 
Where  shine  the  loveliest  flowers  on  stem* 
Of  crystal  and  all  valued  gems. 
Blue  lotuses  through  all  the  land 
The  glorives  of  their  blooms  expand, 
And  the  resplendent  earth  is  strown 
With  peerless  pearl  and  precious  stone. 
There  stately  trees  can  scarce  uphold 
The  burthen  of  their  fruits  of  gold, 
And  ever  flaunt  their  gay  attire 
Of  fjower  and  leaf  like  flames  of  fire. 
All  there  sweet  lives  untroubled  spend 
In  bliss  and  joy  that  know  not  end. 
While  pearl-decked  maidens  laugh,  or  sing 
To  music  of  the  silvery  string.1 
>itill  on  your  forward  journey  keep, 
And  rest  you  by  the  northern  deep, 
Where  springing  from  the  billows  high 
Mount  Somagiri?  seeks  the  sky, 
And  lightens  with  perpetual  glow 
The  sunless  realm  that  lies  below. 
There,  present  through  all  life's  extent, 
Dwells  Brahma,  Lord  preeminent,' 
,4nd  round  the  great  God,  manifest 
In  Rudra3  forms  high  sages  rest. 
Then  turn,  O  Vanars  :  search  no.  more, 
Nor  tempt  the  sunless,  boundless  shore.' 


CANTO  XLIV. 


THE  RING. 

But  special  counselling  he  gave 
fo  Hanuman  the  wise  and  brave  : 


1  "The  Uttara  Kiiru?,  it  should  bn 
remarked,  may  have  been  a  real  people, 
as  they  are  mentioned  in  the  AitareyE  I 

Prahmana,   VIII.   H "Wherefore  thd 

several  nations  who  dwell  in  this  northerr  I 
quarter,  bey.ond  the  Himaya£,  the  Uttara  J 
Kurus  and  the  IJttara  Madras  are  con- 1 
secratecj.  to  glorious  dominion,  and  people  I 
term  them  the  glorious.  In  another  pas-  j 
sage  of  the  same  work,  however,  the  Uttarq  I 
Kurus  are  treated  as  belonging  to  the] 
domain  of  mythology."  Muni's  Sanskrit  I 
Texts,  YoJ,  J.  p.  4y4.  See  ADDJTIQNAI  I 
NOTES. 

*  The  Moon-mountajn. 

3  The  Rudras  are  the  same  as  the  storrr 
winds,  more  usually  called  Maruts,  anc 
are  often  associated  with  India.  In  th< 
later  mythology  the  Rudras  are  regarded 
as  inferior  manifestations  of  $iya,  anc 
most  of  their  names  are  also  names  of  Siva 


Canto  XLVL 


THE  RAM  A? AX. 


379 


To  him  on  whom  his  soul  relied, 

With  friendly  words  the  monarch  cried  : 

'  O  best  of  Vanars,  naught  can  stay 

By  land  or  sea  thy  rapid  way, 

Who  through  the  air  thy  flight  canst  bend, 

And  to  the  Immortals'  home  ascend. 

All  realms,  I  ween,  are  known  to  thee 

With  every  mountain,  lake,  and  sea. 

In  strength  and  speed  which  naught  can 

tire 

Thou,  worthy  rival  of  thy  sire 
The  mighty  monarch  of  the  wind, 
Where'er  thou  wilt  a  way  canst  find, 
Exert  thy  power,  O  swift  and  strong, 
Brin^  back  the  lady  lost  so  long. 
For  time  and  place,  O  thou  most  wise, 
Lie  open  to  thy  searching  eyes.' 

When  Rama  heard  that  special  hest 
To  Hanuman  above  the  rest, 
He  from  the  monarch's  favour  drew 
Hope  of  success  and  trust  anew 
That  he  on  whom  his  lord  relied, 
In  toil  and  peril  trained  and  tried, 
Would  to  a  happy  issue  bring 
The  task  commanded  by  the  king. 
He  gave  the  ring  that  bore  his  name, 
A  token  for  the  captive  dame, 
That  the  sad  lady  in  her  woe 
The  missive  of  her  lord  might  know. 
"  This  ring,'  he  said,  'my  wife  will  see, 
Nor  fear  an  envoy  sent  by  me. 
Thy  valour  and  thy  skill  combined, 
Thy  resolute  and  vigorous  mind, 
And  King  Sugriva's  high  behest, 
With  joyful  hopes  inspire  my  breast.' 


CANTO  XLV. 


THE  DEPARTURE, 

Away,  away  the  Vanars  sped 
Like  locusts  o'er  the  land  outspread. 
To  northern  realms  where  rising  high 
Fhe  King  of  Mountains  cleaves  the  sky, 
Pierce  3atabal  with  vast  array 
Of  Vanar  warriors  led  the  way. 
Far  southward,  as  his  lord  decreed, 
Wise  Hanuman,  the  Wind-God's  seed, 
With  Angad  his  swift  way  pursued, 
\nd  Tara's  warlike  multitude, 
strong  Vinata  with  all  his  band 
Betook  him  to  the  eastern  land, 
Ind  brave  Sushen  in  eager  quest 
Sped  swiftly  to  the  gloomy  west. 
Sach  Vanar  chieftain  sought  with  speed 
Phe  quarter  by  his  king  decreed, 
iiVhile  from  his  legions  rose  on  high 
Che  shout  and  boast  and  battle  cry  : 
We  will  restore  the  dame  and  beat 
Che  robber  down  beneath  our  feet, 


My  arm  alone  shall  win  the  day 
From  Ravan  met  in  single  fray, 
Shall  rob  the  robber  of  his  life, 
And  rescue  Rama's  captive  wife 
All  trembling  in  her  fear  and  woe. 
Here,  comrades,  rest :  no  farther  go  : 
For  I  will  vanquish  hell,  and  she 
Shall  by  this  arm  again  be  free. 
The  rooted  mountains  will  I  rend, 
The  mightiest  trees  will  break  and  bend, 
Earth  to  her  deep  foundations  cleave,    . 
And  make  the  calm  sea  throb  and  heave. 
A  hundred  leagues  from  steep  to  steep 
In  desperate  bound  my  feet  shall  leap. 
My  steps  shall  tread  unchecked  and  free. 
Through  woods,  o'er  land  and  hill  and  sea, 
Range  as  they  list  from  flood  to  fell. 
And  wander  through  the  depths  of  hell.' 

CANTO  XLVI. 


SUGRIVA'S  TALE. 

'  How,  King,'  cried  Ram  a,  *  didst  thou  gain 

Thy  lore  of  sea  and  hill  and  plain  ? ' 

1  I  tol'd  thee  bow,r  Sugriva  said, 

'  From  Bali's  arm  Mayavi  fled1 

To  Malaya's  hill,  and  strove  to  save 

His  life  by  hiding  in  the  cave. 

I  told  how  Bali  sought,  to  kill 

His  foe,  the  hollow  of  the  hill  ; 

Nor  need  I,  King,  again  unfold 

The  wondrous  tale  already  told. 

Then,  wandering  forth,  my  way  I  took 

By  many  a  town  and  wood  and  brook. 

I  roamed  the  earth  from  place  to  place, 

Till,  like  a  mirror's  polished  face, 

The  whole  broad  disk,  that  lies  between 

Its  farthest  bounds,  mine  eyes  had  seen. 

I  wandered  first  to  eastern  skies 

Where  fairest  trees  rejoiced  mine  eyes, 

And  many  a  cave  and  wooded  hill 

Where  lilies  robed  the  lake  and  rill. 

There  metal  dyes  that  hill3  adorn 

Whence  springs  the  sun  to  light  the  morn. 

There,  too.  I  viewed  the  Milky  sea, 

Where  nyphs  of  heaven  delight  to  be. 

Then  to  the  south  I  made  my  way 

From  regions  of  the  rising  day, 

And  roamed  o'er  Vindhya,  where  the  breeze 

ts  odorous  of  sandal  trees. 

Still  in  my  fear  I  found  no  rest : 

[  sought  the  regions  of  the  west. 

And  gazed  on  Asta,3  where  the  sun 


1  Canto  IX. 

2  Udayagiri  or  the  hill  from  which  the 
sun  rises. 

3  Asta  is  the  mountain  behind  which 
the  sun  sets. 


380 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Bool-  IV. 


Sinks  when  his  daily  course  is  run. 
Then  from  that  noblest  hill  I  fled 
And  to  the  nothern  country  sped, 
Saw  Himavan,1  and  Meru's  steep, 
And  stood  heside  the  northern  deep. 
But  when,  by  Bali's  might  oppressed, 
E'en  in  those  wilds  I  could  not  rest, 
Came  Hanuman  the  wise  and  brave, 
And  thus  his  prudent  counsel  gave  ; 
'  I  told  thee  how  Matanga*  cursed 
Thy  tyrant,  that  his  head  should  burst 
In  pieces,  should  he  dare  invade 
The  precincts  of  that  tranquil  shade. 
There  may  we  dwell  in  peace  and  be 
From  thy  oppressor's  malice  free.' 
We  went  to  Rishyamuka's  hill, 
And  spent  our  days  secure  from  ill 
Where,  with  that  curse  upon  his  head, 
The  cruel  Bali  durst  not  tread.' 


CANTO  XLVII. 


THE   RETURN. 

Thus  forth  in  quest  of  Sita  went 

The  legions  King  Sugriva  sent. 

To  many  a  distant  town  they  hied 

By  many  a  lake  and  river's  side. 

As  their  great  sovereign's  order  taught, 

Through  valleys,  plains,  and  groves  they 

sought. 

They  toiled  unresting  through  the  day  : 
At  night  upon  the  ground  they  lay 
Where    the   tall    trees,    whose  branche. 

swayed 

Beneath  their  fruit,  gave  pleasant  shade. 
Then,  when  a  weary  month  was  spent, 
Back  to  Prasravan's  hill  they  went, 
And  stood  with  faces  of  despair 
Before  their  king  Sugriva  there. 
Thus,  having  wandered  through  the  east 
Great  Vinata  his  labours  ceased, 
And  weary  of  the  fruitless  pain 
Returned  to  meet  the  king  again. 
Brave  Satabali  to  the  north 
Had  led  his  Vanar  legions  forth. 
Now  to  Sugriva  back  he  sped 
With  all  his  host  dispirited. 
Sushen  the  western  realms  had  sought, 
And  homeward  now  his  legions  brought. 
All  to  Sugriva  came,  where  still 
He  sat  with  Rama  on  the  hill, 
Before  their  sovereign  humbly  bent 
And  thus  addressed  him  reverent : 
*  On  every  hill  our  steps  have  been, 
By  wood  and  cave  and  deep  ravine  ; 


1  Himalaya,  the  Hills  of  Snow. 

2  Canto  XI. 


nd  all  the  wandering  brooks  we  know 
hroughout  the  land  that  seaward  flow. 
!ur  feet  by  thy  command  have  traced 
he  tangled  thicket  and  the  waste, 
nd  dens  and  dingles  hard  to  pass 
'or  creeping  plants  and  matted  grass. 
Veil  have  we  searched  with  toil  and  pain, 
Lnd  monstrous  creatures  have  we  slain. 
5ut  Hanuman  of  noblest  mind 
'he  Maithil  lady  yet  will  find  ; 
'or  to  his  quarter  of  the  sky1 
'he  robber  fiend  was  seen  to  fly.' 


CANTO  XLVIII. 


THE  ASUR'S  DEATH. 

5ut  Hanuman  still  onward  pressed 
With  Tara,  Angad,  and  the  rest, 
Through  Vindhya's  pathless  glens  he  sped 
And  left  no  spot  unvisited. 
E£e  gazed  from  every  mountain  height, 
He  sought  each  cavern  dark  as  night, 
And  wandered  through  the  bloomy  shade 
By  pool  and  river  and  cascade, 
But,  though  they  sought  in  every  place, 
Of  Sita  yet  they  found  no  trace. 
On  fruit  and  woodland  berries  fed 
Through  many  a  lonely  wild  they  sped, 
And  reached  at  last,  untouched  by  fear, 
A  desert  terrible  and  drear  : 
A  fruitless  waste,  a  laud  of  gloom 
Where  trees  were  bare  of  leaf  and  bloom  ; 
Where  every  scanty  stream  was  dried, 
And  niggard  earth  her  roots  denied. 
No  elephants  through  all  the  ground, 
No  buffaloes  or  deer  are  found. 
There  roams  no  tiger,  pard,  or  bear, 
No  creature  of  the  wood  is  there. 
No  bird  displays  his  glittering  wings, 
No  tree,  no  shrub,  no  creeper  springs. 
There  rise  no  lilies  from  the  flood, 
Resplendent  with  their  flower  and  bud, 
Where  the  delighted  bees  may  throng 
About  the  fragrance  with  their  song. 
There  lived  a  hermit  Kandu  named, 
For  truth  and  wealth  of  "penance  famed, 
Whom  fervent  zeal  and  holy  rite 
Had  dowered  with  all-surpassing  might. 
His  little  son,  a  ten  year  child —  a 
So  chanced  it— perished  in  the  wild. 
His  death  with  fury  stirred  the  sage, 
Who  cursed  the  forest  in  his  rage, 
Doomed  from  that  hour  to  shelter  none, 
A  waste  for  bird  and  beast  to  shun. 

i  Hanuman  was  the  leader  of  the  armj 
of  the  south  which  was  under  the  nomi- 
nal command  of  Angad  the  heir  apparent 


Canto  L. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


381 


They  searched  by  every  forest  edge, 
They  searched  each  cave  and   mountain 

ledge, 

And  thickets  whence  the  water  fell 
Wandering  through  the  tangled  dell. 
Striving  to  do  Su^riva's  will 
They  roamed  along  eich  leafy  rill. 
Ba:  vain  were  all  endeavours,  vain 
Tue  careful  search,  the  toil  ani  pain. 
Through  one  dark  grove  they  scarce  could 

wind, 

So  thick  were  creepers  intertwined. 
There  as  they  struggled  through  the  wood 
Before  their  eyes  an  Asur1  stood. 
High  as  a  towering  hill,  his  pride 
The  very  Gods  in  heaven  defied. 
When  on  the  fiend  their  glances  fell 
Each  braced  him  for  the  combat  well. 
The  demon  raised  his  arm  on  high, 
And  rushed  upon  them  with  a  cry. 
Him  Angad  smote,— for,  sure,  he  thought 
This  was  the  tiend  they  long  had  sought. 
From  his  huge  mouth  by  Angad  felled, 
The  blood  in  rushing  torrents  welled, 
As,  like  a  mountain  from  his  base 
XJptorn,  he  dropped  upon  his  face. 
Tims  fell  the  mighty  tiend  :  and  they 
Through  the  thick  wood  pursued  their  way; 
Then,  weary  with  the  toil,  reclined 
Where  leafy  boughs  to  shade  them  twined. 

CANTO  XLIX. 

ANGAD'S  SPEECH. 

Then  Angad  spake  :  '  We  Vanars  well 

Have  searched  each  valley,  cave,  and  dell, 

And  hill,  and  brook,  and  dark  recess, 

And  tangled  wood,  and  wilderness. 

But  all  in  vain  :  no  eye  has  seen 

The  robber  or  the  Maithil  queen. 

A  dreary  time  has  passed  away, 

And  stern  is  he  we  all  obey. 

Come,  cast  your  grief  and  sloth  aside: 

Again  be  every  elf  or  t  tried  ; 

S>  haply  may  our  toil  attain 

The  sweet  success  that  follows  pain. 

Laborious  effort,  toil,  and  skill, 

The  tirm  resolve,  the  constant  will 

Secure  at  last  the  ends  we  seek  : 

Hence,  O  my  friends,  I  boldly  speak. 

Once  more  then,  noble  hearts,  once  more 

L'-it  us  to-day  this  wood  explore, 

And,  languor  and  despair  subdued, 

Purchase  success  with  toil  renewed, 


1  The  Bengal  recension— Gorresio's  edi- 
tion— calls  this^Asur  or  demon  the  son  of 
Maricha. 


Sugriva  is  a  king  austere, 
And  llama's  wrath  we  needs  must  fear. 
Oorne.  Viinars,  if  ye  think  it  wise, 
And  do  the  thing  that  I  advise ' 

Tli  en  G  and  ham  id  an  thus  replied 
With  lips  that  toil  and  thirst  had  dried  : 
1  Obey  his  words,  f  >r  wise  and  true 
Is  all  thac  he  has  counselled  you. 
Come,  let  your  ho*ts  their  toil  renew 
An  1  search  each  grove  and  desert  through, 
Each  towering  hill  and  forest  glade. 
Bv  lake  and  brook  and  white  cascade, 
Till  every  spot,  as  our  great  lord 
Commanded,  be  again  explored.' 

Uprose  the  Vanars  one  and  all, 
Obedient  to  the  chieftain's  call, 
And  over  the  southern  region  sped 
Where  Vindhya's  tangled  forests  spread. 
They  clomb  that  hill  that  towers  on  high 
Like  a  huge  cloui  in  autumn's  sky, 
Where  many  a  cavern  yawns,  and  streaks 
Of  radiant  silver  dejk  the  peaks. 
In  eager  search  they  wandered  through 
The  forests  where  the  Lodh  trees  grew. 
Where  the  dark  leaves  were  thick  and  green, 
But  found  nor,  Rama's  darling  queen. 
Then  faint  with  toil, their  hearts  depressed, 
Descending  from  the  mountain's  crest, 
Their  weary  limbs  a  while  to  ease 
They  lay  beneath  the  spreading  trees. 


CANTO  L. 

THE  ENCHANTED  CAVE. 

Angad  and  Tara  by  his  side, 

Again  rose  Hanuman  and  tried 

Each  mountain  cavern,  dark  arid  deep, 

And  stony  pass  and  wooded  steep. 

The  lion's  and  the  tiger's  home, 

By  rushing  torrents  white  with  foam. 

Then  with  new  ardour,  south  and  west, 

O'er   Vindhya's  height   the   search    they 

pressed. 

The  day  prescribed  was  near,  and  they 
Still  wandered  on  their  weary  way. 
They  reached  the  southern  land  beset 
With  woody  mountains  like  a  net. 
At  length  a  mighty  cave  they  spied 
That  opened  in' a  mountain's  side. 
Where  many  a  verdant  creeper  grew 
And  o'er  the  mouth  its  tendrils  threw. 
Thence  issued  crane,  and  swan,  and  drake, 
And  trooping  birds  that  love  the  lake. 
The  Vanars  rushed  within  to  cool 
Their  fevered  lips  in  spring  or  pool., 
Vast  was  the  cavern   dark  and  dread, 
Where  not  a  ray  of  light  was  shed  : 
Yet  not  the  more  their  eyesight  failed, 


382 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  IV 


Their  courage  sank  or  valour  quailed. 

On  -through -the  gloom  the  Vanars  pressed 

With  hunger,  thirst,  and  toil  distressed, 

Poor  helpless  wanderers,  sad,  forlorn, 

With  wasted  faces  wan  and  worn. 

At  length,  when  life  seemed  lost  for  aye, 

They  saw  a  splendour  as  of  day, 

A  wondrous  forest,  fair  and  bright, 

Where  golden  trees  shot  flamy  light. 

And  lotus-covered  pools  were  there 

With  pleasant  waters  fresh  and  fair, 

And  streams  their  rippling  currents  rolled 

By  seats  of  silver  and  of  gold. 

Fair  houses  reared  their  stately  height 

Of  burnished  gold  and  lazulite, 

And  glorious  was  the  lustre  thrown 

Through  lattices  of  precious  stone. 

And  there  were  flowers  and  fruit  on  stems 

Of  coral  decked  with  rarest  gems, 

And  emerald  leaves  on  silver  trees, 

And  honeycomb  and  golden  bets. 

Then  as  the  Vanars  nearer  drew, 

A  holy  woman  met  their  view. 

Around  her  form  was  duly  tied 

A  garment  of  the  blackdeer's  hide.1 

Pure  votaress  she  shone  with  light 

Of  fervent  zeal  and  holy  rite. 

Then  Hanuman  before  the  rest 

With  reverent  words  the  dame  addressed  : 

'  Who  art  tliou  /  say  :  and  who  is  lord 

Of  this  vast  cave  with  treasures  stored  ? ' 


CANTO  LI. 

SVAYAMPRABHA. 

*  Assailed  by  thirst  and  hunger,  dame, 
Within  a  gloomy  vault  we  came. 
We  saw  the  cavern  opening  wide, 
And  straight  within  its  depths  we  hied. 
J>ut  utterly  amazed  are  we 
At  all  the  marvels  that  we  see. 
Whose  are  the  golden  trees  that  gleam 
With  splendour  like  the  morning's  beam  ? 
rj  hese  cates  of  noblest  sort?  the^e  roots  ? 
This  wondrous  store  of  rarest  fruits  ? 
Whose  are  these  calm  and  cool  retreats, 
These  silver  homes  and  golden  seats, 
And  lattices  of  precious  stones  ? 
Who  is  the  happy  lord  that  owns 
The  golden  trees,  of  rarest  scent, 
3Sreath  loads  of  fruit  and  blossom  bent? 
Who,  strong  in  holy  zeal,  had  power 
To  deck  the  streams  with  richest  dower, 
And  bade  the  lilies  bright  with  gold 
The  glory  of  their  blooms  unfold, 

1  The  skin  of  the  black  antelope  was 
the  ascetic's  proper  garb. 


Where  fish  in  living  gold  below 

The  sheen  of  changing  colours  show  ? 

Thine  is  the  holy  power,  I  ween, 

That  beautified  the  wondrous  scene  ; 

But  if  another's,  lady,  deign 

To  tell  us,  and  the  whole  explain.' 

To  him  the  lady  of  the  cave 
In  words  like  these  her  answer  gave  : 
4  Skilled  Maya  framed  in  days  uf  old 
This  magic  wood  of  growing  gold. 
The  chief  artificer  in  place 
Was  he  of  all  the  Danav  race. 
He.  for  his  wise  enchantments  famed, 
This  glorious  dwelling  planned  and  framed 
He  for  a  thousand  years  endured 
The  sternest  penance,  arid  secured 
From  Brahma  of  all  boons  the  best, 
The  knowledge  Usanas1  possessed. 
Lord,  by  that  boon,  of  all  his  will, 
He  fashioned  all  with  perfect  skill ; 
And,  with  his  blissful  state  content, 
In  this  vast  grove  a  season  spent. 
By  Indra's  jealous  bolt  he  fell 
For  loving  Hema's*  charms  too  well. 
And  Brahma  on  that  nymph  bestowed 
The  treasures  of  this  fair  abode, 
Wherein  her  tranquil  days  to  spend 
In  happiness  that  ne'er  may  end. 
Sprung  of  a  lineage  old  and  high, 
Merusavarni's3  daughter,  I 
Guard  ever* for  that  heavenly  dame 
This  home,  Svayamprabha4  my  name,— 
For  I  have  loved  the  lady  long, 
So  skilled  in  arts  of  dance  and  song. 
But  say  what  cause  your  steps  has  led 
The  mazes  of  this  grove  to  tread. 


1  Usanas  is  the  name  of  a  sage  men- 
tioned in  the  Vedas.  In  the  epic  poems 
he  is  identified  with  $ukra,  the  regent  of 
the  planet  Venus,  and  described  as  the 
preceptor  of  the  Asuras  or  Daityas,  and 
possessor  of  vast  knowledge. 

*  Hemaisoneof  the  nymphs  of  Paradise. 

3  Merusavarni  is  a  general  name  for  the 
last  four  of  the  fourteen  Manus. 

4  Svayamprabha.  the  "self-luminous" 
is  according  to  DEGrBERNATIsthe  moon: 
'*  In  the  Svayamprabha  too.  we  meet  with 
the  moon  as  a  good  fairy  who,  from  the 
golden  palace  which  she  reserves  for  her 
friend  Hema  (the  golden  one  ;)  is  during  a 
month  the  guide,  in  the  vast  cavern  of 
Hanumant  and  his  companions,  who  h*ve 
lost  their  way  in  the  search  of  the  dawn 
Sita."    This  is  not  quite  accurate  :  Hanu- 
man   and   his  companions  wander  for  a 
month  in  the  cavern  without  a  guide  and 
then  Svayamprabha  leads  thuin  o-ut. 


Canto  LIIL 


THE  RAM  A? AN. 


383 


How,  strangers,  did  ye  chance  to  spy 
The  wood  concealed  from  wanderer's  eye? 
Tell  clearly  why  ye  come  ;  but  first 
Eat  of  this  fruit  and  quench  your  thirst.' 


CANTO  LIL 


THE  EXIT* 

Rfima,'  he  cried,  '  a  prince  whose  sway 
All  peoples  of  the  earth  obey, 
To  Dandak's  tangled  forest  came 
With  his  brave  brother  and  his  dame. 
From  that  dark  shade  of  forest  boughs 
The  giant  Rdvan  stole  his  spouse* 
Our  king  Sugriva's  orders  send 
These  Vanars  forth  to  aid  his  friend, 
That  so  the  lady  be  restored 
Uninjured  to  her  sorrowing  lord. 
With  Angad  and  the  rest  this  band 
Has  wandered  through  the  southern  land, 
With  careful  search  in  every  place 
The  lady  and  the  fiend  to  trace. 
We  roamed  the  southern  region  o'er, 
And  stood  upon  the  ocean's  shore. 
By  hunger  pressed  our  strength  gave  way  ; 
Beneath  the  spreading  trees  we  lay, 
And  cried,  worn  out  with  toil  and  woe, 
1  No  farther,  comrades,  can  we  go.' 
Then  a*  our  sad  eyes  looked  around 
We  spied  an  opening  in  the  ground, 
Where  all  was  gloomy  dark  behind 
The  creeping  plants  that  o'er  it  twined. 
Forth  trooping  from  the  dark  recess 
Came  swans  and  mallards  numberless, 
With  drops  upon  their  shining  wings 
As  newly  bathed  where  water  springs. 
1  On.  comrades,  to  the  cave,'  I  cried 
And  all  within  the  portal  hied. 
Each  clasping  fast  another's  hand 
Far  onward  pressed  the  Vanar  band  ; 
And  still,  as  thirst  and  hunger  drove, 
We  traced  the  mazes  of  the  grove. 
Here  thou  with  hospitable  care 
Hast  fed  us  with  the  noblest  fare, 
Preserving  us,  about  to  die, 
With  this  thy  plentiful  supply. 
But  how,  O  pious  lady,  say, 
Mav  we  thy  gracious  boon  repay  ?' 

He  ceased  :  the  ascetic  dame  replied  : 
4  Well,  Vanars,  am  I  satisfied. 
A  life  of  holy  works  I  lead, 
And  from  your  hands  no  service  need.' 
Then  spake  again  the  Vanar  chief : 
1  We  came  to  thee  and  found  relief, 
Now  listen  to  a  new  distress, 
And  aid  us.  holy  votaress. 
Our  wanderings  in  this  vasty  cave 
Exhaust  the  time  Sugriva  gave. 


Once  more  then,  lady,  grant  release, 
And  let  thy  suppliants  go  in  peace 
Again  upon  their  errand  sped. 
For  King  Sugriva's  ire  we  dread. 
And  the  great  task  our  sovereign  set, 
Alas,  is  unaccomplished  5ret.' 

Thus  Hanuman  their  leader  prayed, 
And  thus  the  dame  her  answer  made : 
Scarce  may  the  living  find  their  way 
Returning  hence  to  light  of  day  ; 
Rut  I  will  free  you  through  the  might 
Of  penance,  fast,  and  holy  rite. 
Close  for  a  while  your  eyes,  or  ne'er 
May  you  return  to  upper  air.' 
She  ceased  :  the  Viinars  all  obeyed  ; 
Their  fingers  on  their  eyes  they  laid, 
And,  ere  a  moment's  time  had  fled, 
Were  through  the  mazy  cavern  led. 
Again  the  gracious  lady  spoke, 
And  joy  in  every  bosom  woke  : 
'  Lo,  here  again  is  Vindhya's  hill, 
Whose  valleys  trees  and  creepers  fill  ; 
And,  by  the  margin  of  the  sea, 
Prasravan  where  you  fain  would  be.' 
With  blessings  then  she  bade  adieu, 
And  swift  within  the  cave  Withdrew. 


CANTO  LIIL 


ANGAD'S  COUNSEL. 

They  looked  upon  the  boundless  main 
The  awful  seat  of  Varun's  reign, 
And  heard  hi»  waters  roar  and  rave 
Terrific  with  eacli  crested  wave. 
Then,  in  the  depths  of  sorrow  drowned, 
They  sat  upon  the  bosky  ground, 
And  sadly,  as  they  pondered,  grieved 
For  days  gone  by  and  naught  achieved. 
Pain  pierced  them  through  with  sharper 

sting 

"V^hen,  gazing  on  the  trees  of  spring, 
Ti'iey-Bttrw  each  waving  bough  that  showed 
The  treasures  of  its  glorious  load, 
And  helpless,  fainting  with  the  weight 
Of  woe  they  sank  disconsolate. 
Then,  lion -shouldered,  stout  and  strong, 
The  noblest  of  the  Vanar  throng, 
Angad  the  prince  imperial  rose, 
And.  deeply  stricken  by  the  woes 
That  his  impetuous  spirit  broke, 
Thus  gently  to  the  chieftains  spoke  : 
'Mark  ye  not,  Vanars,  that  the  day 
Our  monarch  fixed  has  passed  away  ? 
The  month  is  lost  in  toil  and  pain, 
And  now,  my  friends,  what  hopes  remain  ? 
On  you,  in  lore  of  counsel  tried, 
Our  king  Suirriva  most  relied. 
Your  hearts,  with  strong  affection  fraught, 


384 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  IV. 


His  weal  in  every  labour  sought, 
And  the  true  valour  of  your  band 
Was  blazoned»wide  in  every  land. 
Forth  on  the  toilsome  search  you  sped, 
By  me — for  so  he  willed  it — led, 
To  us,  of  every  hope  bereft, 
Death  is  the  only  refuge  left. 
For  none  a  happy  life  may  see 
Who  fails  to  do  our  king's  decree. 
Come,  let  us  all  from  food  abstain, 
And  perish  thus,  since  hope  is  vain. 
Stern  is  our  king  and  swift  to  ire, 
Imperious,  proud,  and  fierce  like  fire, 
And  ne'  er  will  pardon  us  the  crime 
Of  fruitless  search  and  wasted  time. 
Far  better  thus  to  end  our  lives, 
And   leave  our  wealth,  our  homes  and 

wives, 

Leave  our  dear  little  ones  and  all, 
Than  by  his  vengeful  hand  to  fall. 
Think  not  Sugriva's  wrath  will  spare 
]\le  Bali's  son,  imperial  heir:     . 
For  Raghu's  royal  son,  not  he, 
To  this  high  place  anointed  me. 
Sugriva,  long  my  bitter  foe, 
With  eager  hand  will  strike  the  blow, 
And,  mindful  of  the  old  offence, 
Will  slay  me  now  for  negligence, 
Nor  will  my  pitying  friends  have  power 
To  save  me  in  the  deadly  hour. 
No— here,  O  chieftains,  will  1  lie 
By  ocean's  marge,  and  fast  and  die.' 

'They  heard  the  royal  prince  declare 
The  purpose  of  his  tixt  despair  ; 
And  all.  by  common  terror  moved, 
His  speech  in  these  sad  words  approved  : 
'  Sugriva's  heart  is  hard  and  stern, 
And  Kama's  thoughts  for  Sita  yearn. 
Our  forfeit  lives  will  surely  pay 
For  idle  search  and  long  delay, 
And  our  tierce  king  will  bid  us  die 
The  favour  of  his  friend  to  buy.' 

Then  Tara  softly  spake  to  cheer 
The  Vanars'  hearts  oppressed  by  fear  : 
'Despair  no  more,  your  doubts  dispel  : 
Come  in  this  ample  cavern  dwell. 
There  may  we  live  in  blissful  ease1 
Mid  springs  and  fruit  and  bloomy  trees, 
Secure  from  every  foe's  assault, 
For  magic  framed  the  wondrous  vault. 
Protected  there  we  need  not  fear 
Though  llama  and  our  king  come  near; 
Nor  dread  e'en  him  who  batters  down 
The  portals  of  the  foeman's  town.'1 


1  Purandara,  the  destroyer  of  cities;  the 
cities  being  the  clouds  which  the'  God  of 
the  firmament  bursts  open  with  his  thun- 
derbolts, to  release  the  waters  imprisonec 
in  these  f  ortesses  of  the  demons  of  drought 


CANTO  LTV. 
HANUMA:N'S  SPEECH. 

But  Kami  man,  while  Tara,  best 

Of  splendid  chiefs  his  thought  expressed 

Perceived  that  Bali's  princely  son 

A  kingdom  for  himself  had  won.1 

His  keen  eye  marked  in  him  combined 

The  warrior's  arm.  the  ruler's  mind, 

And  every  noble  gift  should  grace 

The  happy  sovereign  of  his  race  : 

Marked  how  he  grew  with  ripening  age 

More  glorious  and  bold  and  sage, — 

Like  the  young  moon  that  night  by  night 

Shines  on  with  ever  waxing  light,— 

Brave  as  his  royal  father,  wise 

A.S  he  who  counsels  in  the  skies  :2 

Marked  how,  for  wearied  with  the  quest, 

He  heeded  not  his  liege's  hest, 

But  Tara's  every  word  obeyed 

Like  Indra  still  by  Sukra3  swayed. 

Then  with  his  prudent  speech  he  tried 

To  better  thoughts  the  prince  to  guide, 

And  by  division's  skilful  art 

The  Vanara  and  the  youth  to  part : 

'  Illustrious  Angad,  thou  in  fight 

Hast   far  surpassed   thy  father's   might, 

Most  worthy,  like  thy  sire  of  old, 

The  empire  of  our  race  to  hold. 

The  Vanars'  fickle  people  range 

From  wish  to  wish  and  welcome  change. 

Their  wives  and  babes  they  will  not  leave 

And  to  their  new-made  sovereign  cleave. 

No  art,  no  gifts  will  draw  away 

The  Vanars  from  Sugriva's  sway, 

Through  hope  of  wealth,  through  fear  of 

pain 

Still  faithful  will  they  all  remain, 
Thou  fondly  hopest  in  this  cave 
The  vengeance  of  the  foe  to  brave. 
But  Lakslnnan's  arm  a  shower  will  send 
Of  deadly  shafts  those  walls  to  rend. 
Like  Indra's  bolts  his  shafts  have  power 
To  cleave  the  mountain  like  a  flower. 
O  Angad,  mark  my  counsel  well  : 
If  in  this  cave  thou  choose  to  dwell, 

1  Perceived  that  Angad  had  secured 
through  the  love  ot  the  Vanars,  the  re- 
version of  Sugriva's  kingdom  ;  or,  a.- 
another  commentator  explains  it,  perceiv- 
ed that  Angad  had  obtained  a  new  king- 
dom in  the  enchanted  cave  which  the 
Vanars.  through  love  of  him,  would  consenj 
to  occupy.  . 

*  Vachaspati,  Lord  of  Speech,  the  Precop- 
tor  of  the  Gods. 

3  Sukra  is  the  regent  of  the  planet  Venus, 
and  the  preceptor  of  the  Daityas. 


Canto  LVL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


385 


These  Vanar  hosts  with  one  accord 

Will  quit  thee  for  their  lawful  lord,  I 

And  turn  again  with  thirsty  eyes 

To  wife  and  babe  and  all  they  prize, 

Thou  in  the  lonely  cavern  left 

Of  followers  and  friends  bereft. 

Wilt  be  in  all  thy  woe,  alas, 

Weak  as  a  blade  of  trembling  grass  : 

And  Lakshman's  arrows,  keen  and  fierce 

From  his  strong  bow,  thy  heart  will  pierce,  j 

But  if  in  lowly  reverence  meek 

Sugriva's  court  with  us  thou  seek, 

He,  as  thy  birth  demands,  will  share 

The  kingdom  with  the  royal  heir. 

Thy  loving  kinsman,  true  and  wise, 

Looks  on  thee  still  with  favouring  eyes. 

Firm  in  his  promise,  pure  is  he, 

And  ne'er  will  vex  or  injure  thee. 

He  loves  thy  mother,  lives  for  her 

A  faithful  friend  and  worshipper. 

That  mother's  love  thou mayst not  spurn: 

Her  only  child,  return,  return.' 


CANTO  LY. 


ANGAD'S    REPLY. 


'  What  truth  or  justice  canst  thou  find,' 
Cried  Angad,  '  in  Sugriva's  mind  ? 
Where  is  his  high  and  generous  soul, 
His  purity  and  selt'-c  mtrol  ? 
How  is  he  worthy  of  our  trust, 
Righteous,  and  true,  and  wise,  and  just, 
Who,  shrinking  not  from  sin  and  shame, 
Durst  take  his  living  brother's  dame  ? 
Who,  when,  in  stress  of  mortal  strife 
His  noble  brother  fought  for  life, 
Against  the  valiant  warrior  barred 
The  portal  which  he  stood  to  guard? 
Can  he  be  grateful—he  who  took 
The  hand  of  llama,  and  forsook 
That  friend  who  saved  him  in  his  woes, 
To  whom  his  life  and  fame  he  owes  ? 
Ah  no  !  his  heart  is  cold  and  mean, 
What  bids  him  search  for  Rama's  queen  ? 
Not  honour's  law,  not  friendship's  debt, 
But  angry  Lakshman's  timely  threat. 
No  prudent  heart  will  ever  place 
Its  trust  in  one  so  false  and  base, 
Who  heeds  not  friendship,  kith  or  kin, 
Who  scorns  the  law  and  cleaves  to  sin. 
But  true  or  false,  whate'er  he  be, 
One  consequence  I  clearly  see  : 
Me,  in  rny  youth  anointed  heir 
Against  his  wish,  he  will  not  spare, 
But  strike  with  eager  hand  the  blow 
That  rids  him  of  a  household  foe. 
Shall  I  of  power  and  friends  despoiled, 
In  all  iny  purpose  crossed  and  foiled, — 


Shall  I  Kishkindha  seek,  and  wait, 
Like  some  poor  helpless  thing,  my  fate? 
The  cruel  wretch  through  lust  of  sway 
Will  seize  upon  his  hapless  prey, 
And  to  a  prison's  secret  gloom 
The  remnant  of  my  years  will  doom. 
'Tis  better  far  to  fast  and  die 
Than  hopeless  bound  in  chains  to  lie, 
Your  steps,  O  Vanars,  homeward  bend, 
And  leave  me  here  my  life  to  end. 
]>etter  to  die  of  hunger  here 
Tiian  meet  at  home  the  fate  I  fear. 
Go,  bow  you  at  Sugriva's  feet, 
And  in  my  name  the  monarch  greet. 
Before  the  sons  of  Raghu  bend, 
And  give  the  greeting  that  I  send. 
Greet  kindly  Ruma  too,  for  she 
A  son's  affection  claims  from  me, 
And  gently  calm  with  friendly  care 
My  mother  Tara's  wild  despair  ; 
Or  when  she  hears  her  darling's  fate 
The  queen  will  die  disconsolate.' 

Thus  Angad  bade  the  chiefs  adieu  : 
Then  on  the  ground  his  limbs  he  threw 
Where  sacred  Darbha1  grass  was  spread, 
And  wept  as  every'hope  had  fled. 
The  moving  words  of  Angad  drew 
Down  aged  cheeks  the  piteous  dew. 
And,  as  the  chieftains'  eyes  grew  dim, 
They  swore  to  stay  and  die  with  him. 
On  holy  grass  whose  every  blade 
Was  duly,  pointing  southward,  laid, 
The  Vanars  sat  them  down  and  bent 
Their  faces  to  the  orient, 
While  'Here,  0  c  >mrades,  let  us  die 
With  Angad,'  was  the  general  cry, 

CANTO  LVL 
SAMPATI, 

Then  came  the  vultures'  mighty  king 
Where  sat  the  Vanars  sorrowing, — 
Sampiiti,2  best  of  birds  that  fly 
On  sounding  pinions  through  the  sky, 
Jatayus'  brother,  famed  of  old, 
Most  glori  us  and  strong  and  bold. 
Upon  the  slope  of  Vindhya's  hill 
He  saw  the  Vanars  calm  and  still. 


1  The  name  of  various  kinds   of   grass 
used  at  sacrificial  ceremonies,  especially, 
of  the   Kusa  grass,     Poa     cynosuroides, 
which  was  used  to   strew  the  ground^in 
preparing  for  a  sacrifice,  the  officiating 
Brahmans  being  purified  by  sittihg  on  it. 

2  Sampati  is  the  eldest  son  of  the  cele- 
brated Garuda  the  king  of  birds, 


386 


THE 


These  words  he  uttered  while  the  sight 
Filled  his  fierce  spirit  with  delight  : 
4  Behold  how  Fate  with  changeless  laws 
Within  his  toils  the  sinner  draws, 
And  brings  me.  after  long  delay, 
A  rich  and  noble  feast  to-day, 
These  Vanars  who  are  doomed  to  die 
My  hungry  maw  to  satisfy.' 

He  spoke  no  more  :  and  Angad  heard 
The  menace  of  the  mighty  bird  : 
And  thus,  while  anguish  tilled  his  breast, 
The  noble  Hanuman  addressed  : 
*  Vivasvat's1  son  has  Sought  this  place 
For  vengeance  on  the  Vanar  race. 
See,  Yaiiia,  wroth  for  Sita's  sake, 
Is  come  our  gulity  lives  to  take. 
Our  king's  decree  is  left  undone, 
And  naught  achieved  for  Raghu's  son. 
In  duty  have  we  failed,  and  hence 
Comes  punishment  for  dire  offence. 
Have  we  not  heard  the  marvels  wrought 
By  King  Jatayus,2  how  he  fought 
With  Havana  might,  and,  nobly  brave, 
Perished,  the  Maithil  queen  to  save? 
There  is  no  living  creature,  none, 
But  loves  to  die  for  Baghu's  son, 
And  in  long  toils  and  dangers  we 
Have  placed  our  lives  in  jeopardy. 
Blest  is  Jatayus,  he  who  gave 
His  life  the  Maithil  queen  to  save, 
And  proved  his  love  for  Bam  a  well 
When  by  the  giant's  hand  he  fell. 
Now  raised  to  bliss  and'hign  renown 
He  fears  not  fierce  Sugriva's  frown, 
Alas,  alas  !  what  miseries  spring 
From  that  rash  promise  of  the  king  I3 
His  own  sad  death,  and  llama  sent 
With  Lakshman  forth  to  banishment  : 
The  Maithil  lady  borne  away  : 
Jatayus  slain  in  mortal  fray  : 
The  fall  of  Bali  when  the  dart 
Of  Rama  quivered  in  his  heart: 
And.  after  toil  and  pain  and  care, 
Our  misery  and  deep  despair.' 

He  ceased  :  the  feathered  monarch  heard 
His  heart  with  ruth  and  wonder  stirred 
'  Whose  is  that  voice,'  the  vulture  cried, 
'  That  tells  me  how  .latayus  died, 
And  shakes  my  inmo>t  soul  with  woe 
For  a  loved  brother's  overthrow  ? 
After  long  days  at  length  I  hear 
The  glorious  name  of  one  so  dear. 
Once  more,  O  V;inar  chieftains,  tell 
How  King  Jatayus  fought  and  fell. 


1  Vivasvat  or  the  Sun  is  the  father  o 
Yama  the  God  of  Death. 

*  Book  III.  Canto  LT. 

s  Dasaratha's  rash  oath  and  fatal  pro 
mise  to  his  wife  Kaikeyi. 


Book  tV. 


Sut  first  your  aid,  1  pray  you,  lend, 
nd  from  this  peak  will  I  descend, 
rhe  sun  has  burnt  my  wings,  and  I 
tfo  longer  have  the  power  to  fly.' 

CANTO  LVII. 
ANGAD'S  SPEECH. 

±  noufh  grief  and  woe  his  utterance  broke, 
^hejMrilsted  not  the  words  he  spoke  ; 
5ut,  looking  still  for  secret  guile, 
Reflected  in  their  hearts  a  while  : 
If  on  cur  mangled  limbs  he  feed, 
We  gain  the  death  ourselves  decreed. 

Then  rose  the  Vanar  chiefs,  and  lent 
Their  arms  to  aid  the  bird's  descent ; 
And  Angad  spake  :  There  lived  of  yore 
A  noble  Vanar  king  who  bore 
The  name  of  Biksharajas,  great 
And  brave  and  strong  and  tortunate. 
Bis  sons  were  like  their  father  :  fame 
Knows  Bali  and  Sugriva's  name. 
Praised  in  all  lands,  a  glorious  king 
Was  Bali,  and  from  him  I  spring* 
Brave  Bama.  Dasaratha's  heir, 
A  glorious  prince  beyond  compare, 
His  sire  and  duty's  law  obeyed 
And  sought  the  depths  of  Dandaks  shade. 
Sita  his  well-beloved  dame. 
And  Lakshman,  with  the  wanderer  came, 
A  giant  watched  his  hour,  and  stole 
The  sweet  delight  of  Rama's  soul. 
Jatayus,  Dasaratha's  friend, 
Sw'ift  succour  to  the  dame  would  lend. 
Fierce  Bavan  from  his  car  he  felled, 
And  for  a,  time  the  prize  withheld. 
But  bleeding,  weak  with  years,  and  tired, 
Beneath  the  demon's  blows  expired. 
Due  rites  at  Rama's  hands  obtained, 
And  bliss  that  ne'er  shall  minish,  gained. 
Then  Rama  with  Sugriva  made 
A  covenant  for  mutual  aid, 
And  Bali,  to  the  field  defied, 
By  conquering  Bama's  arrow  died. 
Sugriva  then,  by  Bama's  grace, 
Was  monarch  of  the  Vanar  race. 
By  his  command  a  mighty  host 
Seeks  Kama's  queen  from  coast  to  coast 
Sent  forth  by  him,  in  every  spot 
We  looked  f«>r  her,  but  find  her  not. 
Vain  is  the  toil,  as  though  by  night 
We  sought  to  find  the  Day-God's  light. 
In  lands  unknown  at  length  we  found 
A  spacious  cavern  under  ground, 
Whose  vaults  that  stretch  beneath  the  niil 
Were  formed  by  Maya's  magic  skill. 
Through  the  dark  maze  our  steps  were  bent, 
And  wandering  there  a  month  we  spent, 


Canto  LVJII. 


THE  RAM  A?  AN. 


387 


And  lost,  in  fruitless  error,  thus 

The  days  our  king  allotted  us. 

Thus  we  though  faithful  ii a ve  transgressed, 

And  failed  to  keep  our  lord's  behest. 

No  chance  of  safety  can  we  see, 

No  lingering  hope  of  life  have  we. 

Sugriva's  wrath  and  Rama's  hate 

Press  on  our  souls  with  grievous  weighlt  : 

And  we,  because  'tis  vain  to  fly, 

Jlesolve  at  length  to  fast  and  die.' 

CANTO  LVIII. 
TIDINGS  OF  SfTA. 

The  piteous  tears  his  eye  bedewed 
As  thus  his  speech  the  bird  renewed  : 
'  Alas  my  brother,  slain  in  tight 
By  Ra  van's  unresisted  might ! 
I,  old  and  wingless,  weak  and  worn, 
O'er  his  sad  fate  can  only  mourn. 
Fled  is  my  youth  :  in  life's  decline 
My  former  strength  no  more  is  mine. 
Once  on  the  day  when  Vritra1  died, 
We  brothers,  in  ambitious  pride, 
Sought,  mounting  with  adventurous  flight, 
The  Day-God  garlanded  vyith  light. 
On,  ever  on  we  urged  our  way 
Where  tields  of  ether  round  us  lay, 
Till,  by  the  fervent  heat  assailed. 
My  brother's  pinions  flagged  and  failed. 
I  marked  his  sinking  strength,  and  spread 
My  stronger  wings  to  screen  his  head, 
Till,  all  my  feathers  burnt  away, 
On  Vindhya's  hill  I  fell  and  lay. 
There  in  my  lone  and  helpless  s.tate 
I  heard  not  of  my  brother's  fate.' 

Thus  King  ^ampati  spoke  and  sigheql  : 
And  royal  Angad  thus  replied  : 
'  If,  brother  of  Jatayus,  thou 
Hast  heard  the  tale  I  told  but  now, 
Obedient  to  mine  earnest  prayer 
The  dwelling  of  that  fiend  declare. 
O,  say  where  cursed  Ravan  dwells, 
Whom  folly  to  his  death  impels.' 


1  Vritra,  '  tlje  coverer,  hider,  obstructer 
(of  rain) '  is  the  narne  of  the  Vedic  per- 
sonification of  an  imaginary  malignant 
influence,  or  demon  of  darkness  and 
drought  supposed  to  take  possession  of 
the  clouds,  causing  thjem  to  obstruct  the 
clearness  of  the  sky  and  keep  back  the 
waters.  Indra  is  represented  as  battling 
with  this  evil  influence,  and  the  pent-up 
clouds  being  practically  represented  as 
mountains  or  castles  are  shattered  by  his 
thundeibolt  and  macle  to  open  their  re- 
ceptacles. 


He  ceased.  Again  Sampati  spoke, 
And  hope  in  every  breast  awoke : 
'  Though  lost  my  wings,  and  strength  de- 
cayed, 

Yet  shall  my  words  lend  Rama  aid. 
I  know  the  worlds  where  Vishnu  trod,1 
I  know  the  realm  of  Ocean's  God  ; 
How  Asurs  fought  with  heavenly  foes, 
And  Amrit  from  the  churning  rose.2 
A  mighty  task  before  me  lies, 
To  prosper  Rama's  enterprise, 
A  task  top  hard  for  one  whom  length 
Of  days  has  rifled  of  his  strength. 
I  saw  the  cruel  Ravan  bear 
A  gentle  lady  through  the  air. 
Bright  washer  form,  and  fresh  and  young, 
And  sparkling  gems  about  her  hung. 
•*  O  Rama,  Rama ! '  cried  the  dame, 
And  shrieked  in  terror  Lakshman's  name, 
As,  struggling  in  the  giant's  hold, 
She  dropped  her  gauds  of  gems  and  gold. 
Like  sun-lighib  on  a  mountain  shone 
The  silken  garments  she  had  on, 
And  glistened  o'er  his  swarthy  form 
As  lightning  flashes  through  the  storm, 
That  giant  Kavan,  famed  of  old, 
Js  brother  of  the  Lord  of  Gold.? 
The  southern  ocean  roars  and  swells 
Round  Lanka,  where  the  robber  dwells 
In  his  fair  city  nobly  planned 
And  built  by  Visvakarma's4  hand. 
Within  liis  bower  securely  barred, 
With  inonsters  round  her  for  a  guard, 
Still  in  her  silken  vesture  clad 
Lies  Sita,  and  her  heart  is  sad. 
A  hundred  leagues  your  course  must  be 
Beyond  this  margin  of  the  sea. 
Still  to  the  south  your  way  p.ursue, 
And  there  the  giant  Ravan  view. 
Then  up,  O  Vanars,  and  away  1 
For  by  my  heavenly  lore  I  say, 
There  will  you  see  the  lady's  face. 
And  hither  soon  your  steps  retrace. 
In  the  first  field  of  air  are  borne 
The  doves  and  birds  that  feed  on  corn. 
The  second  field  supports  jfche  crows 
And  birds  whose  food  on  .branches  grows. 
Along  the  tfrird  in  balanced  flight 
Sail  the  keen  osprey  and  the  kite. 
Swift  through  the  fourth  the  falcon  springs 
The  fifth  the  slower  vulture  wings. 
TQp  to  the  sixth  the  gay  swans  rise, 


1  Frequent  mentipn  has  been  made  of 
;the  three  steps  of  Vishnu  typifying  the 
rising  culmination,  and  setting  of  the  sun. 

?  For  the  Churning  of  the  Sea,  see 
Book  I.  Canto  Xj/V. 

3  Kuvera,  the  God  of  Wealth. 

*  The  Architect  of  the  Gods. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


BOOK  IV. 


Where  royal  Vainateya1  flies. 
We  too,  O  chiefs,  of  \ulture  race, 
Our  line  from  Vinata  may  trace, 
Condemned,  because  we  wrought  a  deed 
Of  shame,  on  flesh  and  blood  to  feed. 
But  all  Suparna's2  wondrous  powers 
And  length  of 'keenest  sight  are  ours, 
That  we  a  hundred  leagues  away 
Through  fields  of  air  descry  our  prey. 
Now  from  this  spot  my  gazing  eye 
Can  Ravan  and  the  dame  descry. 
Devise  some  plan  to  overleap 
This  barrier  of  the  briny  deep, 
Find  the  Videhan  lady  there, 
And  joyous  to  your  home  repair. 
INle  too,  0  Y  amirs,  to  the  side 
Of  Varun's3  home  the  ocean,  guide, 
Where  due  libations  shall  be  paid 
To  my  great-hearted  brother's  shade,' 


CANTO  LIX. 


SAMPATI'S  STORY. 

They  heard  his  counsel  to  the  close, 
Then  swiftly  to  their  feet  they  rose  ; 
And  Jambavan  with  jo>ous  breast 
The  vulture  king  again  addressed  : 

'  Where,  where  is  Sita  ?  who  has  seen, 
Who  borne  away  the  Maithil  queen  ? 
Who  would  the 'lightning  flight  withstand 
Of  arrows  shot  by  Lakshman's  hand  ? ' 

Again  Sampati  spoke  to  clieer 
The  Vanars  as  they  bent  to  hear : 
*  Now  listen,  and  my  words  shall  show 
What  of  the  Maithil  dame  I  know, 
And  in  what  distant  prison  lies 
The  lady  of  the  long  dark  eyes. 
Scorched  by  the  fiery  God  of  Day, 
High  on  this  mighty  hill  I  lay. 
A  long  and  weary  time  had  passed, 
And  strength  and  life  were  failing  fast. 
Yet,  ere  the  breath  had  left  my  frame, 
My  son,  my  dear  Suparsva,  came. 
Each  morn  and  eve  he  brought  me  food, 
And  filial  care  my  life  renewed. 
But  serpents  still  are  swift  to  ire. 
Gandharvas  slaves  to  soft  desire, 
And  we,  imperial  vultures,  need 
A  full  supply  our  maws  to  feed, 
Once  he  turned  at  close  of  day, 
Stood  by  my  side,  but  brought  no  prey. 
He  looked  upon  my  ravenous  eye, 
Heard  my  complaint  and  made  reply  : 

!  Garuda.  son  of  Vinata,  the  sovereign 
of  the  birds. 

2  '  The  well  winged  one,'  Garuda, 

3  Tlie  God  of  the  sea, 


'Borne  on  swift  wings  ere  day  was  light 
I  stoc;d  upon  Mahendra's1  height, 
And,  far  below,  the  sea  I  viewed 
And  birds  in  countless  multitude. 
Before  mine  eyes  a  giant  flew 
Whose  monstrous  form  was  dark  of  hue 
And  struggling  in  his  grasp  was  borne 
A  lady  radiant  as  the  morn. 
Swift  to  the  south  his  course  he  bent, 
And  cleft  the  yielding  element. 
The  holy  spirits  of  the  air 
Can  e  round  me  as  I  marvelled  there, 
And  cried  as  their  bright  legions  met  : 
'  O  say,  is  Sita  living  yet  ?' 
Thus  cried  the  saints  and  told  the  name 
Of  him  \rho  held  the  struggling  dame. 
Then  while  mine  eye  with  eager  look 
Pursued  the  path  the  robber  took, 
I  marked  the  lady's  streaming  hair, 
And  heard  her  cry  of  wild  despair. 
I  saw  her  silken  vesture  rent 
And  stripped  of  every  ornament, 
Thus,  O  my  father,  fled  the  time  : 
Forgive,  1  pray,  the  heedless  crime/ 
In  vain  the  mournful  tale  1  heard 
My  pitying  heart  to  fury  stirred. 
What  could  a  helpless  bird  of  air, 
Re  ft  of  his  boasted  pinions,  dare  ? 
Yet  can  I  aid  with  all  that  will 
And  words  can  do,  and  friendly  skill.' 


CANTO  LX. 


SAMP  ATI'S  STORY. 

Then  from  the  flood  Sampati  paid 
Due  offerings  to  his  brother's  shade. 
He  bathed  him  when  the  rites  were  done, 
And  spake  again  to  Bali's  son  : 
4  Now  listen,  Prince,  while  I  relate 
Hew  first  I  learned  the  lady's  fate. 
Burnt  by  the  sun's  resistless  might 
I  fell  and  lay  on  Vindhya's  height. 
Seven  nights  in  deadly  swoon  I  passed, 
f  But  struggling  life  returned  at  last. 
|  Around  1  bent  my  wondering  view, 
But  every  spot  was  strange  and  new. 
I  scanned  the  sea  with  eager  ken, 
And  rock  and  brook  and  lake  and  glenr 
,  I  saw  gay  trees  their  branches  wave, 
|  And  creepers  mantling  o'er  the  cave. 
I  I  heard  the  wild  birds'  joyous  song, 
I  And  waters  as  they  foamed  along, 
:  And  knew  *he  lovely  hill  must  be 
Mount  Vindhya  by  the  southern  sea. 

1  Mahendra  is  chain  of  mountains 
generally  identified  with  part  of  the  Ghuta 
of  the  Peninsula. 


Canto  LXL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Revered  by  heavenly  beings,  stood 

Near  where  I  lay,  a  sacred  wood, 

Where  great  JSiaakar  dwelt  of  yore 

And  pains  of  awful  penance  bore. 

Eight  thousand  seasons  winged  their  flight 

Over  the  toiling  anchorite — 

Upon  that  hill  my  days  were  spent, — 

And  then  to  heaven  the  hermit  went. 

At  last,  with  long  and  hard  assay, 

Down  from  that  height  1  made  my  way, 

And  wandered  through  the  mountain  pass 

Rough  with  the  spikes  of  Darbha  grass. 

I  with  my  misery  worn,  and  faint 

Was  eager  to  behold  the  saint : 

For  often  with  Jatdyus  I 

Had  sought  his  home  in  days  gone  by. 

As  nearer  to  the  grove  I  drew 

The  breeze  with  cooling  fragrance  blew, 

And  not  a  tree  that  was  not  fair, 

With  richest  flower  and  fruit  was  there. 

With  anxious  heart  a  while  I  stayed 

Beneath  the  trees'  delightful  shade, 

And  soon  the  holy  hermit,  bright 

With  fervent  penance,  came  in  sight. 

Behind  him  bears  and  lions,  tame 

As  those  who  know  their  feeder,  came, 

And  tigers,  deer,  and  snakes  pursued 

His  steps,  a  wondrous  multitude, 

And  turned  obeisant  when  the  sage 

Had  reached  his  shady  hermitage. 

Then  came  Nisakar  to  my  side 

And    looked  with  wondering  eyes,    and 

cried : 

'  I  knew  thee  not,  so  dire  a  change 
Has  made  thy  form  and  feature  strange. 
Where  are  thy  glossy  feathers  ?  where 
The  rapid  wings  that  cleft  the  air? 
Two  vulture  brothers  once  I  knew  : 
Each  form  at  will  could  they  endue. 
They  of  the  vulture  race  were  kings, 
And  tlew  with  Matar  lava's1  wings, 
in*  human  shape  they  loved  to  greet 
Their  hermit  friend,  and  clasp  his  feet. 
The  younger  was  Jattiyus,  thou 
The  elder  whom,  I  gaze  on  no»v. 
Say,  has  disease  or  foeman's  hate 
Reduced  thee  from  thy  high  estate  ? 


, 


CANTO  LXL 

SAMPATI'S  STORY. 


.h  me  !  o'er  whelmed   with  shame  and 

weak 

With  wound?,'  I  cried,  '  I  scarce  can  speak. 
My  hapless  brother  once  and  I 
Our  strength  of  flight  resolved  to  try, 

1  Matarisva  is  identified  with  Vayu,  the 
wind, 


And  by  our  foolish  pride  impelled 
Our  way  through  realms  of  ether  held. 
We  vowed  before  the  saints  who  tread 
The  wilds  about  Kailasa's  head, 
That  we  with  follwing  wings  would  chase 
The  swift  sun  to  his  resting  place. 
Up  on  our  soaring  pinions  through 
The  fields  of  cloudless  air  we  flew. 
Beneath  us  far,  and  far  away, 
Like  chariot  wheels  bright  cities  lay, 
Whence  in  wild  snatches  rose  the  song 
Of  women  mid  the  gay-clad  throng, 
With  sounds  of  sweetest  music  blent 
And  many  a  tinkling  ornament. 
Then  as  our  rapid  wings  we  strained 
The  pathway  of  the  suu  we  gained, 
Beneath  us  all  the  earth  was  seen 
Clad  in  her  garb  of  tender  green, 
And  every  river  in  her  bed 
Meandered  like  a  silver  thread. 
We  looked  on  Meru  far  below. 
And  Vindhya  and  the  Lord  of  Snow, 
Like  elephants  that  bend  to  cool 
Their  fever  in  a  lilied  pool. 
But  fervent  heat  and  toil  o'ercame 
The  vigour  of  each  yielding  frame, 
Our  weary  hearts  began  to  quail, 
And  wildered  sense  to  reel  and  faii. 
We  knew  not,  fainting  and  distressed, 
The  north  or  south  or  east  or  west, 
With  a  great  strain  mine  eyes  I  turned 
Where  the  fierce  sun  before  me  burned, 
And  seemed  to  my  astonished  eyes 
The  equal  of  the  earth  in  size.1 
At  length,  o'erpowered,  Jatayusfell 
Without  a  word  to  say  farewell, 
And  when  to  earth  I  saw  him  hie 
I  followed  headlong  from  the  sky.2 
With  sheltering  wings  I  intervened 
And  from  the  sun  his  bcdy  screened, 
But  lost,  for  heedless  folly  doomed, 
My  pinions  which  the  heat  consumed. 
In  Janasthan,  I  hear  them  say, 
My  hapless  brother  fell  and  lay. 
1,  pinionless  and  faint  and  weak, 
Dropped  upon  Vindhya's  woody  peak. 
Now  with  my  swift  wings  burnt  away, 
Reft  of  my  brother  and  my  sway, 
From  this  tall  mountain's  summit  I 
Will  cast  me  headlong  down  and  die. 


1  Of  course  not  equal  to  the  whole  earth, 
says   the    Commentator,    but    equal    to 
Janasthan. 

2  This  appears  to  be  the  Indian  form  of 
the  stories  of  Phaethon  and  Daxlalua  and 
Icarus. 


390 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book   II 


CANTO  LXII, 

SAMPATI'S  STORY. 

'As  to  the  sainifc  I  thus  coni  plained 
My  bitter  tears  fell  unrestrained. 
He  pondered  for  a  while,  then  broke 
The  silence,  and  thus  calmly  spoke : 
'  Forth  fro  in  thy  sides  again  shall  spring 
O  royal  bird,  each  withered  wing, 
And  all  thine  ancient  power  and  might 
Return  to  thee  with  strength  of  sight, 
A  noble  deed  has  been  foretold 
In  prophecy  pronounced  of  old  : 
Nor  dark  to  me  are  future  things, 
Seen  by  the  light  which  penance  brings. 
A  glorious  king  shall  rise  and  reign, 
The  pride  of  old  Ikshvaku's  strain. 
A  good  and  valiant  prince,  his  heir, 
Shall  the  .dear  name  of  Rama  bear. 
With  his  brave  brother  Lakshman  he 
An  exile  in  the  woods  shall  be, 
Where  Ravan,  whom  no  God  may  slay,' 
Shall  steal  his  darling  wife  away, 
In  vain  the  captive  will  be  wooed 
With  proffered  love  and  dainty  fooqi, 
She  will  not  hear,  she  will  not  taste : 
But,  lest  her  beauty  wane  and  waste, 
Lord  Indra's  self  will  come  to  her 
With  heavenly  food,  and  minister. 
Then  envoys  of  the  Vanar  race 
By  Ram,a  sent  will  seek  this  place, 
To  them,  O  roamer  of  the  air, 
The  lady's  fate  shalt  thou  declare. 
Thou  must  not  moverr-so  maimed  thou  art 
Thou  canst  not  from  this  spot  depart. 
Await  rfce  day  and  moment  due, 
And  thy  burnt  wings  will  sprout  anew, 
1  might  this  day  the  boon  bestow 
And  bid  again  thy  pinions  grow, 
But  wait  until  thy  saving  deed 
The  nations  from  their  fear  have  freed. 
Then  for  this  glorious  aid  of  thine 
The  princes  of  Ikshvaku's  line, 
And  Gods  above  and  saints  below 
Eternal  gratitude  shall  owe, 
Fain  would  mine  aged  eyes  behold 
That  pair  of  whom  my  lips  have  told, 
Yet  wearied  here  I  must  not  stay, 
But  leave  my  frame  and  pass  away.' 

CANTO  "fcXIIT. 
SAMPATI'S  STORY. 

1  With  this  and  many  a  speech  beside 
My  failing  heart  he  fortified, 

1  According  to  the  promise  given  him 
by  Brahma.    See  Book  I.  Canto  XIV. 


With  glorious  hope  my  breast  inspired, 

And  to  his  holy  home  retired. 

I  scaled  the  mountain  heigiit,  to  view 

The  region  round,  and  looked  for  you. 

In  ceaseless  watch  ings  night  and  day 

A.  hundred  seasons  passed  away, 

And  by  the  sage's  words  consoled 

I  wait  the  hour  and  chance  foretold. 

But  since  Nisakar  sought  the  skies, 

And  cast  away  all  earthly  ties, 

Full  many  a  care  and  doubt  has  pressed 

With  grievous  weight  upon  rny  breast. 

But  for  the  saint  who  turned  aside 

My  purpose  I  had  surely  died. 

Those  hopeful  words  the  hermit  spake, 

That  bid  me  live  for  'Rama's  sake, 

Dispel  my  anguish  as  the  light 

Of  lamp  and  torch  disperse  the  night.1 

He  ceased  :  and  in  the  Vanars'  view 
Forth  from  his  side  young  pinions  grew, 
And  boundless  rapture  rilled  his  breast 
As  thus  the  chieftains  he  addressed  : 
'  Joy,  joy  !  the  pinions,  which  the  Lord 
Of  Day  consumed,  are  now  restored 
Through  the  dear  grace  &  boundless  might 
Of  that  illustrious  anchorite. 
The  fire  of  youth  within  me  burns, 
And  all  my  wonted  strength  returns. 
Onward,  ye  Vanars,  toil  strive, 
And  you  shall  find  the  dame  alive, 
Look  on  these  new-found  wings,  and  hence 
Be  strong  in  surest  confidence.' 

riwift  from  the  crag  he  sprang  to  try 
His  pinions  in  his  native  sky. 
His  words  the  chief  tains'  cjoubts  had  stilled? 
And  every  heart  with  courage  filled.1 


CANTO 


THE  SEA. 

Shouts  of  triumphant  joy  outrang 
As  to  their  feet  the  Vanars  sprang  : 
And,  on  the  mighty  task  intent, 
3wift  to  the  sea  their  steps  they  bent. 

They  sfcood  and  gazed  upon  the  deep, 
Whose  billows  with  a  roar  and  leap 
On  the  sea  banks  were  wildly  hurled,— 

?he  inirror  of  the  mighty  world. 

?here  on  the  strand  the  Vanars  stayed 
And  with  sad  eyes  the  deep  surveyed. 

lere,  as  in  play,  his  billows  rose, 
And  there  he  slumbered  in  repose. 

lere  leapt  the  boisterous  waters,  high 
As  mountains,  menacing  the  sky, 
And  wild  infernal  forms  between 

"he  ridges  of  the  waves  were  seen. 


1  In  the  Bengal  recension  the  fourth 
•ook  ends  here,  the  remaining  Cantos 
eiug  placed  in  the  fifth. 


Canto  LXV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN, 


391 


They  saw  the  billows  rave  and  swjll, 
And  their  sad  spirits  sank  and  feJ ; 
For  ocean  in  their  deep  despair 
{Seemed  boundless  as  the  fields  of  air. 
Then  noble  Angad  spake  to  cheer 
The  Vanars  and  dispel  their  fear : 

*  Faint  not:  despair  should  never  find 
Admittance  to  a  noble  mind. 
JJespair,  a  serpent's  mortal  bite, 
Benumbs  the  hero's  power  and  might.' 

Then  passed  the  weary  night,  and  all 
Assembled  at  their  prince's  call, 
And  every  lord  of  high  estate 
Was  gathered  round  him  for  debate. 
Bright  was  tiie  chieftains'  glorious  band 
Itound  Angad  on  the  ocean  strand, 
As  when  the  mighty  Storm-Gods  meet 
Itound  Indra  on  his  golden  seat. 
Then  princely  Angad  looked  on  each, 
And  thus  began  his  prudent  speech  : 

*  What  chief  of  all  our  host  will  leap 
A  hundred  leagues  across  the  deep  ? 
Who,  O  illustrious  Vanars,  who 
Will  make  Sugriva's  promise  true, 
And  from  our  weight  of  fear  set  free 
The  leaders  of  our  band  and  me  ? 
TO  whom,  O  warriors,  shall  we  owe 
A  sweet  release  from  pain  and  woe, 
And  proud  success,  and  happy  lives 
With  our  dear  children  and  our  wives, 
Again  permitted  by  his  grace 

To  look  with  joy  ou  Kama's  face, 
And  noble  Lakshman,  and  our  lord 
The  king,  to  our  sweet  homes  restored  ? ' 
Thus  to  the  gathered  lords  he  spoke  ; 
But  no  reply  the  silence  broke. 
Then  with  a  sterner  voice  he  cried  : 
'O  chiefs,  the  nation's  boast  and  pride, 
Whom  valour  strength  and  power  adorn, 
Of  most  illustrious  lineage  born, 
Where'er  you  will  you  force  a  way, 
And  none  your  rapid  course  can  stay. 
Jsow  come,  your  several  powers  declare, 
And  who  this  desperate  leap  will  dare  { 

CANTO~LXV, 


THE  COUNCIL. 

But  none  of  all  the  host  was  found 
To  clear  the  sea  with  desperate  bound, 
Though  each,  as  Angad  bade,  declared 
His  proper  power  and  what  he  dared. l 
Then  spake  good  Jambavan  the  sage, 
Chief  of  them  all  for  reverend  age  ; 


1  Each  chief  comes  forward  and  says 
how  far  he  can  leap.  Gaja  says  he  can 
leap  ten  yojans,  Gavaksha  can  leap  twenty, 
Gavaya  tairty,  and  so  on  up  to  ninety. 

26 


'  I,  Vanar  chieftains,  long  ago 

Limbs  light  to  leap  could  likewise  show, 

Hut  now  on  frame  and  spirit  weighs 

The  burthen  of  rny  length  of  days, 

Still  task  like  this  I  may  not  slight, 

When  Kama  and  our  king  unite. 

So  listen  while  I  tell,  0  friends, 

What  lingering  strength  mine  age  attends. 

If  my  poor  leap  may  aught  avail, 

Of  ninety  leagues,  I  will  not  fail. 

Far  other  strength  in  youth's  fresh  prime 

I  boasted,  in  the  olden  time, 

When,  at  Prahlada's1  solemn  rite, 

I  circled  in  my  rapid  flight 

Lord  Vishnu,  everlasting  God, 

When  through  the  universe  he  trod. 

But  now  my  limbs  are  weak  and  old, 

My  youth  is  fled,  its  fire  is  cold, 

And  these  exhausted  nerves  to  strain 

In  such  a  task  were  idle  pain,' 

Then  Angad  due  obeisance  paid,  I 
And  to  the  chief  his  answer  made  : 
'  Then  I,  ye  noble  Vanars,  I 
Myself  the  mighty  leap  will  try  ; 
Although  perchance  the  power  I  lack 
To  leap  from  Lanka's  island  back.' 

Thus  the  impetuous  chieftain  cried, 
And  Jambavan  the  sage  replied  ; 
'  Whate'er  thy  power  and  might  may  be, 
This  task,  0  Prince,  is  not  for  thee. 
Kings  go  not  forth  themselves,  but  send 
The  servants  who  their  best  attend, 
Thou  art  the  darling  and  the  boast, 
The  honoured  lord  of  all  the  host. 
In  thee  the  root,  O  Angad,  lies 
Of  our  appointed  enterprise ; 
And  thee,  on  whom  our  hopes  depend, 
Our  care  must  cherish  and  defend.' 

Then  Bali's  noble  son  replied  ; 
'  Needs  must  I  go,  whate'er  betide, 
For,  if  no  chief  this  exploit  dare, 
What  waits  us  all  save  blank  despair,-— 
Upon  the  ground  again  to  lie 
In  hopeless  misery,  fast,  and  die  ? 
For  not  a  hope  of  life  I  see 
If  we  neglect  our  king's  decree.' 
Then  spoke  the  aged  chief  again  : 
'  Nay,  our  attempt  shall  not  be  vain, 
For  to  the  task  will  1  incite 
A  chieftain  of  sufficient  might.' 


1  Prahlada,  the  son  of  Hirariyakasipu, 
was  a  pious  Batya  remarkable  for  his 
devotion  to  Vishnu,  and  was  on  this  ac- 
count persecuted'by  his  father. 


392 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  IV 


CANTO  LXVI. 


HASUMAN. 

The  chieftain  turned  his  glances  where 

The  legions  sat  in  mute  despair  ; 

And  then  to  Hanuman,  the  best 

Of  Vanar  lord?,  these  words  addressed  : 

'  Why  still,  and  silent,  and  apart, 

O  hero  of  the  dauntless  heart  * 

Thou  keepest  treasured  in  thy  mind 

The  laws  that  rule  the  Vanar  kind, 

Strong  as  our  king  Sugriva,  brave 

As  Rama's  self  to  slay  or  save. 

Through  every  land  thy  praise  is  heard, 

Famous  as  that  illustrious  bird, 

Arishtanenii's  son,1  the  king 

Of  every  fowl  that  plies  the  wing. 

Oft  have  I  seen  the  monarch  sweep 

With  sounding  pinions  o'er  the  deep, 

And  in  his  mighty  talons  bear 

Huge  serpents  struggling  through  the  air. 

Thy  arms,  O  hero,  match  in  might 

The  ample  wings  he  spreads  for  flight  ; 

And  thou  with  him  mayst  well  compare 

In  power  to  do,  in  heart  to  dare. 

Why,  rich  in  wisdom,  power,  and  skill, 

O  hero,  art  thou  lingering  still  * 

An  Apsaras,2  the  fairest  found 

Of  nymphs  for  heavenly  charms  renowned, 

Sweet  Punjikasthala,  became 

A  noble  Vanar's  wedded  dame. 

Her  heavenly  title  heard  no  more, 

Anjana  was  the  name  she  bore, 

When,  cursed  by  Gods,  from  heaven  she  fell 

In  Vanar  form  on  eaith  to  dwell, 

New-born  in  mortal  shape  the  child 

Of  Kunjar  monarch  of  the  wild. 

In  youthful  beauty  wondrous  fair, 

A  crown  of  flowers  about  her  hair, 

In  silken  robes  of  richest  dye 

She  roamed  the  hills  that  kiss  the  sky. 

Once  in  her  tinted  garments  dressed 

She  stood  upon  the  mountain  crest, 

The  God  of  Wind  beside  her  came, 

And  breathed  upon  the  lovely  dame. 

And  as  he  fanned  her  robe  aside 

The  wondrous  beauty  that  he  eyed 

In  rounded  lines  of  breast  and  limb 

And  neck  and  shoulder  ravished  him  ; 

And  captured  by  her  peerless  charms 


1  The  Bengal  recension  calls  him  Arish- 
tanemi's  brother.  '•  The  commentator  says 
«'  Arishtanemi  is  Aruna."  Aruna  the 
charioteer  of  the  sun  is  the  son  of  Kasyapa 
and  Vinata  and  by  consequence  brother 
of  Garuda  called  Vainateya  from  Vinata 
his  mother."  GORKESIO. 

*  A  nvmDh  of  Paradise. 


He  strained  her  in  his  amorous  arms. 
Then  to  the  eager  God  she  cried 
In  trembling  accents,  territied: 
4  Whose  impious  love  has  wronged  a  spouat 
So  constant  to  her  nuptial  vows  1 ' 
He  heard,  and  thus  his  answer  made : 
*  O,  be  not  troubled,  nor  afraid. 
But  trust,  and  thou  shalt  know  ere  long 
My  love  has  done  thee,  sweet,  no  wrong. 
So  strong  and  brave  and  wise  shall  be 
The  glorious  child  1  give  to  thee. 
Might  shall  be  his  that  naught  can  tire, 
And  limbs  to  spring  as  springs  his  sire,' 
Thus  spoke  the  God  ;  the  conquered  dam 
Rejoiced  in  heart  nor  feared  the  shame. 
Down  in  a  cave  beneath  the  earth 
The  happy  mother  gave  thee  birth. 
Once  o'er  the  summit  of  the  wood 
Before  thine  eyes  the  new  sun  stood. 
Thou  sprangest  up  in  haste  to  seize 
What  seemed  the  fruitage  of  the  trees. 
Up  leapt  the  child,  a  wondrous  bound, 
Three  hundred  leagues  above  the  grounc 
And,  though  the  angered  Day -God  shot 
His  fierce  beams  on  him,  feared  him  not 
Then  from  the  hand  of  Indra  came 
A  red  bolt  winged  with  wrath  and  flame 
The  child  fell  smitten  on  a  rock. 
His  cheek  was  shattered  by  the  shock, 
Named  Hauuman1  thenceforth  by  all 
In  memory  of  the  fearful  fall, 
The  wandering  Wind-God  saw  thee  lie 
With  bleeding  cheek  and  drooping  eye, 
And  stirred  to  anger  by  thy  woe 
Forbade  each  scented  breeze  to  blow. 
The  breath  of  all  the  worlds  was  stilled, 
And  the  sad  Gods  with  terror  filled 
Frayed  to  the  Wind,  to  calm  the  ire 
And  soothe  the  sorrow  of  the  sire. 
His  tiery  wrath  no  longer  glowed, 
And  Brahma's  self  the  boon  bestowed 
That  in  the  brunt  of  battle  none 
Should  slay  with  steel  the  Wind  -God's  so 
Lord  Indra,  sovereign  of  the  skies, 
Bent  on  thee  all  his  thousand  eyes, 
And  swore  that  ne'er  the  bolt  which  he 
Hurls  from  the  heaven  should  injure  the 
Tis  thine,  O  mighty  chief,  to  share 
The  Wind-God's  power,  his  son  and  he 
Sprung  from  that  glorious  father  thou, 
And  thou  alone,  canst  aid  us  now. 
This  earth  of  yore,  through  all  her  clim< 
I  circled  one-and-twenty  times, 
And  gathered,  as  the  Gods  decreed, 
Great  store  ot  herbs  from  hill  and  mea 
Which,  scattered  o'er  the  troubled  wave 
Tiie  Ainrit  to  the  toilers  gave. 


1  Hanu  or  Hanu  means  jaw.  Hanunu 
or  Hanuman  means  properly  one  with 
large  jaw, 


Canto  LXVII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


393 


But  now  my  days  are  wellnigh  told, 
My  strength  is  gone,  my  limbs  are  old, 
And  thou,  the  bravest  and  the  best, 
Art  the  sure  hope  of  all  the  rest. 
Now,  mighty  cnief ,  the  task  assay  : 
Thy  matchless  power  and  strength  display. 
Rise  up,  O  prince,  our  second  king, 
And  o'er  the  flood  of  ocean  spring. 
So  shall  the  glorious  exploit  vie 
With  his  who  stepped  through  earth  and 

sky.'1 

He  spoke  :  the  younger  chieftain  heard, 
His  soul  to  vigorous  effort  stirred, 
And  stood  beiore  their  joyous  eyes 
luiated  in  gigantic  size. 


CANTO  LXVIL 


HANUMAN'S  SPEECH. 

Soon  as  his  stature  they  beheld, 
Their  fear  and  sorrow  were  dispelled  ; 
And  joyous  praises  loud  and  long 
Jtlaiig  out  from  all  the  Vanar  throng. 
On  tiie  great  chief  their  eyes  they  bent 
In  rapture  and  astonishment, 
As,  when  his  conquering  foot  he  raised, 
The  Gods  upon  JNarayau2  gazed. 
He  stood  amid  the  joyous  crowd, 
Bent  to  the  chiefs,  and  cried  aloud  : 
*  Tue  Wind-God,  Fire's  eternal  friend. 
Whose  blasts  the  mountain  summits  rend, 
With  boundless  force  that  none  may  stay, 
Takes  where  he  lists  his  viewless  way. 
Sprung  from  that  glorious  father,  1 
In  power  and  speed  with  him  may  vie, 
A  thousand  times  with  airy  leap 
Can  circle  loftiest  Meru's  steep  : 
With  my  tierce  arms  can  stir  the  sea 
Till  from  their  bed  the  waters  flee 
And  rush  at  my  command  to  drown 
This  land  with  grove  and  tower  and  town, 
I  through  the  nelds  of  air  can  spring 
Far  swifter  than  the  feathered  King, 
And  leap  before  him  as  he  flies. 
On  sounding  pinions  through  the  skies. 
I  can  pursue  the  Lord  of  Light 
Uprising  from  the  eastern  height, 
And  reach  him  ere  his  course  be  sped 
With  burning  beams  engarlanded. 
1  will  dry  up  the  mighty  main, 
•Shatter  the  rocks  and  rend  the  plain. 
O'er  earth  and  ocean  will  I  bound, 
And  every  flower  that  grows  on  ground, 


1  Viahnu,  the  God  of  the  Three  Steps, 
1  Narayan,  *  He  who  moved  upon  the 
waters,'  is  Vishnu.    The  allusion  is  to  the 
famous  three  steps  of  that  God, 


And  bloom  of  climbing  plants  shall  show 

Strewn  on  the  ground,  the  way  I  go, 

Bright  as  the  lustrous  path  that  lies 

Athwart  the  region  of  the  skies.1 

The  Maithil  lady  will  I  find,— 

Thus  speaks  mine  own  prophetic  mind,— 

And  cast  in  hideous  ruin  down 

The  shattered  walls  of  Lanka's  town.' 

Still  on  the  chief  in  rapt  surprise 
The  Vanar  legions  bent  their  eyes, 
And  thus  again  sage  Jambavan 
Addressed  the  glorious  Hanuman  : 
'Son  of  the  Wind,  thy  promise  cheers 
The  Vanars'  hearts,  and  calms  their  feara, 
Who,  rescued  from  their  dire  distress, 
With  prospering  vows  thy  way  will  bless. 
The  holy  saints  their  favour  lend, 
And  all  our  chiefs  the  deed  commend 
Urging  thee  forward  on  thy  way  : 
Arise  then,  and  the  task  assay. 
Thou  art  our  only  refuge  j  we. 
Our  lives  and  all,  depend  on  thee.' 

Thensprangthe  Wind-God's  son  the  best 
Of  Vanars,  on  Mahendra's  crest, 
And  the  great  mountain  rocked  and  swayed 
By  that  unusual  weight  dismayed, 
As  reels  an  elephant  beneath 
The  lion's  spring  and  rending  teeth. 
The  shady  wood  that  crowned  him  shook, 
The  trembling  birds  the  boughs  forsook, 
And  ape  and  pard  and  lion  fled 
From  brake  and  lair  disquieted. 

"~i~The  Milky  Way. 


TEE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole   V 


BOOK  V.' 


CANTO  I. 


HANUMAN'S  LEAP. 

Thus  Fran's  foe  resolved  to  trace 
The  c>  ptive  to  her  hiding-place 
Thrpi  ga  airy  pathways  overhead 
Which  Heavenly  minstrels  visited. 
With  straining  nerve  and  eager  brows, 
Like  some  strong  husband  ot  the  cows, 
In  ready  might  he  stood  prepared 
For  the  bold  task  his  soul  has  dared. 
O'er  gem-like  grass  that  flashed  and  glowed 
The  Vanar  like  a  lion  strode. 
Housed  by  the  thunder  of  his  tread, 
The  beasts  to  shady  coverts  fled. 
Tall  trees  he  crushed  or  hurled  aside, 
And  every  bird  was  terrified. 
Around  him  loveliest  lilies  grew, 
Pale  pink,  and  red,  and  white,  and  blue, 
And  tints  of  many  a  metal  lent 
The  light  of  varied  ornament. 
Gandharvas,  changing  forms  at  will, 
And  Yakshas  roamed  the  lovely  hill, 
And  countless  Serpent-Gods  were  seen 
Where  flowers  and  grass  were  fresh  and 

green. 

As  some  resplendent  serpent  takes 
His  pastime  in  the  best  of  lake^, 
JSo  on  the  mountain's  woody  height 
The  Vanar  wandered  with  delight. 
Then,  standing  on  the  flowery  bod, 
He  paid  his  vows  to  saiut  and  God. 
iSwayainbhu*  and  the  Sun  he  prayed, 
And  the  swift  Wind  to  lend  him  aid, 
And  Indra,  sovereign  of  the  skies, 
To  bless  his  hardy  enterprise. 
Then  once  again  the  chief  addressed 
The  Vanars  from  the  mountain  crest : 
'  Swift  as  a  shaft  from  Kama's  bow 


1  This  Book  is  called  Sundar  or  the 
Beatiful.  To  a  European  taste  it  is  the 
most  intolerably  tedious  of  the  whole 
poem,  abounding  in  repetition,  overloaded 
description,  and  long  and  useless  speeches 
which  impede  the  action  of  the  poem. 
Manifest  interpolations  of  whole  Cantos 
also  occur.  1  have  omitted  none  of  the 
action  of  tiie  Book,  but  have  occasionally 
omitted  long  passages  of  common-place 
description,  lamentation,  and  long  stories 
vhich  have  been  again  and  again  repeated. 

*  Brahma  the  Self -Existent. 


To  Ravan's  city  will  I  go, 
And  if  she  be  not  there  will  fly 
And  seek  the  lady  in  the  sky; 
Or,  if  in  heaven  she  be  not  found, 
Will  hither  bring  the  giant  bound.' 

He  ceased  ;  and  mustering  his  might 
Sprang  downward    from    the   mouutair 

height, 

While,  shattered  by  each  mighty  limb, 
The  trees  unrooted  followed  him. 
The  shadow  on  the  ocean  cast 
By  his  vast  form,  as  ow  he  passed, 
Flew  like  a  ship  before  the  gale 
When  the  strong  breeze  has  tilled  the  sail 
And  where  his  course  the  Vanar  held 
The  sea  beneath  him  raged  and  swelled. 
Then  Gods  and  all  the  heavenly  train 
Poured  flowerets  down  in  gentle  rain  ; 
Their  voices  glad  Gandharvas  raised, 
And  saints  in  heaven  the  Vanar  praised. 
Fain  would  the  Sea  his  succour  lend 
And  Raghu's  noble  son  befriend. 
He,  moved  by  zeal  for  Kama's  sake, 
The  hill  Mainaka1  thus  be^pake  ; 
'O  strong  Mainaka,  heaven's  decree 
In  days  of  old  appointed  thee 
To  be  the  Asurs'  bar,  and  keep 
The  rebels  in  the  lowest  deep. 
Thou  guardest  those  whom  heaven  ha, 

cursed 

Lest  from  their  prison-house  they  burst, 
And  staridest  by  the  gates  of  hell 
Their  limitary  sentinel. 
To  thee  is  given  the  power  to  spread 
Or  spring  above  thy  watery  bed. 
Now,  best  of  noble  mountains,  rise 
And  do  the  thing  that  I  advise. 
E'en  now  above  thy  buried  crest 
Flies  mighty  Hanuman,  the  best 
Of  Vanars,  moved  for  Rama's  sake 
A  wondrous  deed  to  undertake. 
Lift  up  thy  head  that  he  may  stay 
And  rest  him  on  his  weary  way.' 

He  heard,  and  from  his  watery  shroud 
As  bursts  the  sun  from  autumn  cloud, 
Rose  swiftly,  crowned  with  plant  and  tree 
And  stood  above  the  foamy  sea.* 
There  with  his  lofty  peaks  upraised 
Bright  as  a  hundred  suns  he  blazed, 
And  crest  and  crag  of  burnished  gold 
Flashed  on  the  flood  that  round  him  rolled 

1  Mainaka  was  the  son  of   Himalay* 
and  Mena  or  Menaka. 

*  Thus  Milton  makes  the  hills  of  heavei 
self-moving  at  command  : 
4  At  his  cornmad  the  uprooted  hills  retiree 
Each  to  his  place,  they   heard   his  voic< 

and  went 
Obsequious.' 


C'CLUtO    L 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


395 


The  V&nar  thought  the  mountain  rose 

A  hostile  bar  to  interpose, 

And,  like  a  wind-swept  cloud,  o'erthrew 

The  glittering  mountain  as  he  flew. 

Then  from  the  falling  hill  rang  out 

A  warning  voice  and  joyful  shout. 

Again  he  raised  him  high  in  air 

To  meet  the  flying  Vanar  there, 

And  standing  on  his  topmost  peak 

In  human  form  began  to  speak  :l 

*  Best  of  the  Vanars'  noblest  line, 

A  mighty  task,  O  chief,  is  fhine. 

Here  for  a  while,  I  pray  thee,  light 

And  rest  upon  the  breezy  height. 

A  prince  of  Raghu's  line  was  he 

Who  gave  his  glory  to  the  Sea,* 

Who  now  to  Kama's  envoy  shows 

High  honour  for  the  debt'he  owes, 

He  bade  me  lift  my  buried  head 

Uprising  from  my  watery  bed, 

And  woo  the  Vanar  chief  to  rest 

A  moment  on  my  glittering  crest. 

Refresh  thy  weary  limbs,  and  eat 

My  mountain  fruits  for  they  are  sweet. 

I  too,  O  chieftain,  know  thee  well  ; 

Three  worlds  thy  famous  virtues  tell  ; 

And  none,  I  ween,  with  thee  may  vie 

Who  spring  impetuous  through  the  sky. 

To  every  guest,  though  mean  and  low, 

The  wise  respect  and  honour  show  ; 

And  how  shall  I  neglect  thee,  how 

Slight  the  great  guest  so  near  me  now  ? 

Son  of  the  Wind,  'tis  thine  to  share 

The  might  of  him  who  shakes  the  air  ; 

And, — for  he  loves  his  offspring, — he 

Is  honoured  when  I  honour  thee. 

Of  yore,  when  Krita's  age3  was  new, 

The  little  hills  and  mountains  flew 

Where'er  they  listed,  borne  on  wings 

More  rapid  the  feathered  king's.* 

But  mighty  terror  came  on  all 

The  Gods  and  saints  who  feared  their  fall, 


1  The  spirit  of  the  mountain  is  separ- 
able from  the  mountain.     Himalaya  has 
also  been  represented  as  standing  inhuman 
on  one  of  his  own  peaks. 

2  Sagar  or  the  Sea  is  said  to  have  de- 
rived its  name  from  Sagar.    The  story  is 
fully  told  in  Book  I.  Cantos  XLIL,  XLJIL, 
and  XL1V. 

3  Kritu  is  the  first  of  the  four  ages  of 
the  world,  the  golden  age,  also   called 
Satya, 

4  Parvata  means  a  mountain  and  in  the 
Vedas  a  cloud.    Hence  in  later  mytholo- 
gy the  mountain  have  taken  the  place  of 
the  clouds  as  the  objects  of  the  attacks  of 

ndra  the  Sun-God.    The  feathered  king 
Garuda. 


And  Indra  in  his  anger  rent 
Their  pinions  with  the  bolts  he  sent. 
When  in  his  ruthless  fury  he 
Levelled  his  flashing  bolt  at  me, 
The  great-souled  Wind  inclined  to  save, 
And  laid  me  neath  the  ocean's  wave. 
Thus  by  the  favour  of  the  sire 
I  kept  my  cherished  wings  entire  ; 
And  for  this  deed  of  kindness  done 
I  honour  thee  his  noble  son. 
O  come,  thy  weary  limbs  relieve, 
And  honour  due  from  me  receive.' 
I  may  not  rest,'  the  Yanar  cried  ;' 
*  I  must  not  stay  or  turn  aside. 
Yet  pleased  am*  I,  thou  noblest  hill, 
And  as  the  deed  accept  thy  will.' 

Thus  as  he  spoke  he  lightly  pressed 
With  his  broad  hand  the  mountain's  crest, 
Then  bounded  upward  to  the  height 
Of  heaven,  rejoicing  in  his  might, 
And  through  the  fields  of  boundless  blue, 
The  pathway  of  his  father,  flew. 
Gods,  saints,  and  heavenly  bards  beheld 
That  flight  that  none  had  paralleled, 
Then  to  the  Nagas'  mother1  came 
And  thus  addressed  the  sun-bright  dame  : 
'See,  Hanuman  with  venturous  leap 
Would  spring  across  the  mighty  deep,— 
A  Vanar  prince,  the  Wind-God's  seed  : 
Come,  Surasa.  his  course  impede. 
In  Rakshas  form  thy  shape  disguise, 
Terrific,  like  a  hill  in  size : 
Let  thy  red  eyes  with  fury  glow, 
And  high  as  heaven  thy  body  grow. 
With  fearful  tusks  the  chief  defy, 
That  we  his  power  and  strength  may  try. 
He  will  with  guile  thy  hold  elude, 
Or  own  thy  might,  by  thee  subdued.' 

Pleased  with  the  grateful  honours  paid, 
The  godlike  dame  their  words  obeyed, 
Clad  in  a  shape  of  terror  she 
Sprang  from  the  middle  of  the  sea, 
And,  with  tierce  accents  that  appalled 
All  creatures,  to  the  Vanar  called  : 
'  Come,  prince  of  Vanars,  doomed  to  be 
My  food  this  day  by  heaven's  decree. 
Such  boon  from 'ages  long  ago 
To  Brahma's  favouring  will  I  owe.' 

She  ceased,  and  Hanuman  replied, 
By  shape  and  threat  unterrified : 
1  Brave  Rama  with  his  Maithil  spouse 
Lodged  in  the  shade  of  Dandak's  boughs. 
Thence  Kavan  king  of  giants  stole 
Sita  the  joy  of  Rama's  soul. 

i  "  The  children  of  Surasa  were  a  thou- 
sand mighty  many-headed  serpents, 
traversing  the  sky." 

WILSON'S  Vishnu  Purdna, 
Vol.'ll.  p.  73. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book   V. 


By  Bama's  high  behest  to  her 
I  go  a  willing  messenger  ; 
And  never  shouldst  thou  hinder  one 
Who  toils  for  Dasaratha's  son. 
First  captive  Sita  will  I  see, 
And  him  who  sent  and  waits  for  me, 
Then  come  and  to  thy  will  submit, 
Yea,  by  my  truth  I  promise  it.' 
4  Nay,  hope  not  thus  thy  life  to  save  ; 
Not  such  the  boon  that  Brahma  gave. 
Enter  my  mouth,'  was  her  reply, 
*  Then  forward  on  thy  journey  hie! n 
•Stretch,    wider     stretch     thy     jaws,' 

exclaimed 

The  Vanar  chief ,  to  ire  inflamed  ; 
And,  as  the  Bakshas  near  him  drew, 
Ten  leagues  in  height  his  stature  grew. 
Then  straight,  her  threatening  jaws  bet- 
ween, 

A  gulf  of  twenty  leagues  was  seen. 
To  fifty  leagues  he  waxed,  and  still 
Her  mouth  grew  wider  at  her  will. 
Then  smaller  than  a  thumb  became, 
Shrunk  by  his  power,  the  Vanar 's  frame.  * 
He  leaped  within,  and  turning  round 
Sprang  through  the  portal  at  a  bound, 
Then  hung  in  air  a  moment,  while 
He  thus  addressed  her  with  a  smile  : 
«  O  Daksha's  child,3  farewell  at  last ! 
For  I  within  thy  mouth  have  passed. 
Thou  hast  the  gift  of  Brahma's  grace  : 
I  go,  the  Maithil  queen  to  trace.' 
Then,  to  her  former  shape  restored, 
She  thus  addressed  the  Vanar  lord  : 
4  Then  forward  to  the  task,  and  may 
Success  and  joy  attend  thy  way  ! 
Go,  and  the  rescued  lady  bring 
In  triumph  to  her  lord  and  king.' 

1  She  means,  says  the  Commentator, 
pursue  thy  journey  if  thou  can. 

2  If  Milton's  spirits  are  allowed   the 
power  of  infinite  self -extension  and  com- 
pression the  same  must  be  conceded   to 
valmiki's  supernatural  beings.   Given  the 
power  as  in  Milton  the  result  in  Valmiki 
is  perfectly  consistent. 

3  "  Daksha  is  the  son  of  Brahma,  and 
one  of  the  Prajapatis  or  divine  progenitors. 
He  had  sixty  daughters,  twenty-seven  of 
whom    married   to    Kasyapa    produced, 
according  to  one  of  the  Indian  cosmogo- 
nies,   all    mundane   beings.     Does    the 
epithet,  Descendent  of  Daksha,  given  to 
Surasa,  mean  that  she  is  one  of  those 
daughters  ?    I  think  not.    This  epithet  is 
perhaps  an  appellation   common   to  all 
created   beings  as  having    sprung    from 
Daksha."   .GORRESio, 


Then  hosts  of  spirits  as  they  gazed 
The  daring  of  the  Vanar  praised. 
Through  the  broad  fields  of  ether,  fast 
Garud's  royal  self,  he  passed, 
The  region  of  the  cloud  and  rain, 
Loved  by  the  gay  Gandharva  train, 
Where  mid  the  birds  that  came  and  went 
Shone  Indra's  glorious  bow  unbent, 
And  like  a  host  of  wandering  stars 
Flashed  the  high  Gods'  celestial  cars. 
Fierce  Sinhika1  who  joyed  in  ill 
And  changed  her  form  to  work  her  will, 
Descried  him  on  his  airy  way 
And  marked  the  Vanar  for  her  prey. 

*  This  day  at  length,'  the  demon  cried, 

*  My  hunger  shall  be  satisfied,' 
And  at  his  passing  shadow  caught 
Delighted  with  the  cheering  thought. 
The  Vanar  felt  the  power  that  stayed 
And  held  him  as  she  grasped  his  shade, 
Like  some  tall  ship  upon  the  main 
That  struggles  with  the  wind  in  vain. 
Below,  above,  his  eye  he  bent 

And  scanned  the  sea  and  firmament. 
High  from  the  briny  deep  upreared 
The  monster's  hideous  form  appeared, 
4  8ugriva's  tale,'  he  cried,  '  is  true  : 
This  is  the  demon  dire  to  view 
Of  whom  the  Vanar  monarch  told, 
Whose  grasp  a  passing  shade  can  hold.' 
Then,  as  a  cloud  in  rain-time  grows, 
His  form,  dilating,  swelled  and  rose. 
Wide  as  the  space  from  heaven  to  hell 
Her  jaws  she  opened  with  a  yell, 
And  rushed  upon  her  fancied  prey 
With  cloud-like  roar  to  seize  and  slay. 
The  Vanar  swift  as  thought  compressed 
His  borrowed  bulk  of  limb  and  chest, 
And  stood  with  one  quick  bound  inside 
The  monstrous  mouth  she  opened  wide. 
Hid  like  the  moon  when  Rahu2  draws 
The  orb  within  his  ravening  jaws. 
Within  that  ample  cavern  pent 
The  demon's  form  he  tore  and  rent, 
And,  from  the  mangled  carcass  freed, 
Came  forth  again  with  thought-like  speed.* 

J  Sinhika  is  the  mother  of  &£,hu  the 
dragon's  head  or  ascending  node,  the  chief 
agent  in  eclipses. 

2  Bahu  is  the  demon  who  causes  eclipses 
by  attempting  to  swallow  the  sun  and 
moon. 

3  According  to  De  Gubernatis,  the  au- 
thor of  the  very  learned,  ingenious,  and 
interesting  though  too  fanciful  Zoological 
Mythology.  Hanuman  here  represents  the 
sun  entering  into  and  escaping   from  a 
cloud.  The  biblical  Jonah,   according  to 
him.  tvoines  the  same  nhenomenon.  SjfLVH-. 


Canto  II. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


397 


Thus  with  his  skill  the  fiend  he  slew, 
Then  to  his  wonted  stature  grew. 
The  spirits  saw  the  demon  die, 
And  hailed  the  Vanar  from  the  sky  : 
'  Well  hast  thou  fought  a  wondrous  fight 
Nor  spared  the  fiend's  terrific  might. 
On,  on  !  perform  the  blameless  deed, 
And  in  thine  every  wish  succeed. 
Ke'ercan  they  fail  in  whom  combine 
Such  valour,  thought,  and  skill  as  thine.' 
Pleased  with  their  praises  as  they  sang, 
Again  through  fields  of  air  he  sprang, 
And  now,  his  travail  wellnigh  done, 
The  distant  shore  was  almost  won. 
Before  him  on  the  m argent  stood 
Jn  long  dark  line  a  waving  wood, 
And  the  fair  island,  bright  and  green 
With  flowers  and  trees,  was  clearly  seen, 
And  every  babbling  brook  that  gave 
Her  lord  the  sea  a  tribute  wave. 
He  lighted  down  on  Lamba's  peak 
Which  tinted  metals  stain  and  streak, 
And  looked  where  Lanka's  splendid  town 
Shone  on  the  mountain  like  a  crown. 


CANTO  II. 


LANKA'. 

The  glorious  sight  a  while  he  viewed, 
Then  to  the  town  his  way  pursued. 
Around  the  Vanar  as  he  went 
Breathed  from  the  wood  delicious  scent, 
And  the  soft  grass  beneath  his  feet 
With  gem-like  flowers  was  bright    and 

sweet. 

Still  as  the  Vanar  nearer  drew 
More  clearly  rose  the  town  to  view. 
The  palm  her  fan-like  leaves  displayed, 
Priyalas*  lent  their  pleasant  shade, 
And  mid  the  lower  greenery  far 
Conspicuous  rose  the  Koviddr.* 
A  thousand  trees  mid  flowers  that  glowed 
Hung  down  their  fruit's  delicious  load,3 
And  in  their  crests  that  rocked  and  swayed 
Sweet  birds  delightful  music  made. 
And  there  were  pleasant  pools  whereon 
The  glories  of  the  lotus  shone  ; 
And  gleams  of  sparkling  fountains,  stirred 
By  many  a  joyous  water-bird. 


speaking  of  sunset,  says  Yitnas  andar-i- 
dihdn-i  mdJii  shud :  Jonas  was  within  the 
fish's  mouth.  See  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

1  The  Buchanania  Latifolia, 

2  The  Bauhinia  Variegata. 

3  Through  the  power  that  Ravan's  stern 
mortifications  had  won  for  him  his  trees 
bore  flowers  and  fruit  simultaneously. 


Around,  in  lovely  gardens  grew 

Blooms  sweet  of  scent  and  bright  of  hue, 

And  Lanka,  seat  of  Ravan's  sway, 

Before  the  wondering  Vaiiarlay: 

With  stately  domes  and  turrets  tall, 

Encircled  by  a  golden  wall, 

And  moats  whose  waters  were  aglow 

With  lily  blossoms  bright  below  : 

For  Sita's  sake  defended  well 

With  bolt  and  bar  and  sentinel, 

And  R&kshases  who  roamed  in  bands 

With  ready  bows  in  eager  hands. 

He  saw  the  stately  mansions  rise 

Like  pale-hued  clouds  in  autumn  skies  : 

Where  noble  streets  were  broad  and  bright, 

And  banners  waved  on  every  height. 

Her  gates  were  glorious  to  behold, 

Rich  with  the  shine  of  burnished  gold : 

A  lovely  city  planned  and  decked 

By  heaven's  creative  arhitect,1 

Fairest  of  earthly  cities  meet 

To  be  the  Gods'  celestial  seat. 

The  Vanar  by  the  northern  gate 

Thus  in  his  heart  began  debate  : 

*  Our  mightiest  host  would  strive  in  vain 

To  take  this  city  on  the  main  : 

A  city  that  may  well  defy 

The  chosen  warriors  of  tue  sky  ; 

A  city  never  to  be  won 

E'en  by  the  arm  of  Raghu's  son. 

Here  is  no  hope  by  guile  to  win 

The  hostile  hearts  of  those  within. 

'Twere  vain  to  war,  or  bribe,  or  sow 

Dissension  mid  the  Vanar  foe. 

But  now  my  search  must  I  pursue 

Until  the  Maithil  queen  1  view; 

And,  when  I  find  the  captive  dame, 

Make  victory  mine  only  aim. 

But,  if  i  wear  my  present  shape, 

How  shall  I  enter  and  escape 

The  Rakshas  troops,  their  guards    and 

spies, 

And  sleepless  watch  of  cruel  eyes? 
The  fiends  of  giant  race  who  hold 
This  mighty  town  are  strong  and  bold  ; 
And  1  must  labour  to  elude 
The  fiercely  watchful  multitude. 
I  in  a  shape  to  mock  their  sight 
Must  steal  within  the  town  by  night, 
Blind  with  my  art  the  demons'  eyes, 
And  thus  achieve  my  enterprise. 
How  may  I  see,  myself  unseen 
Of  the  fierce  king,  the  captive  queen, 
And  meet  her  in  some  lonely  place, 
With  none  beside  her,  face  to  face  ? ' 

When  the  bright  sun  had  left  the  skies 
The  Vanar  dwarfed  his  mighty  size, 

1  Visvakarma   is  the   architect  of   the 
Gods. 


398 


THE  RJLMAYAN. 


Book   V. 


And,  in  the  straitest  bounds  restrained, 

The  bigness  of  a  cat  retained.' 

Then,  when  the  moon's  soft  light  was 

spread, 
Within  the  city's  walls  he  sped. 


CANTO  III. 


THE  GUARDIAN  GODDESS. 

There  from  the  circling  rampart's  height 
He  gazed  upon  the  wondrous  sight ; 
Broad  gates  with  burnished    gold   dis- 
played, 

And  courts  with  turkises  inlaid; 
With  gleaming  silver,  gems,  and  rows 
Of  crystal  stairs  and  porticoes. 
In  semblance  of  a  Rakshas  dame 
The  city's  guardian  Goddess  came, — 
For  she  with  glances  sure  and  keen 
The  entrance  of  a  foe  had  seen,— 
And  thus  with  fury  in  her  eye 
Addressed  him  with  an  angry  cry: 
'  Who  art  thou  ?  what  has  led  thee,  say, 
Within  these  walls  to  find  thy  way  ? 
Thou  mayst  not  enter  here  in  spite 
Of  Ravan  and  his  warriors'  might.' 
'  And  who  art  thou  ?'  the  Vanar  cried, 
By  form  and  frown  unterrified  ; 
'  Why  hast  thou  met  me  by  the  gate, 
And  chid  me  thus  infuriate?' 

He  ceased  :  and  Lanka  made  reply: 
'The  guardian  of  the  town  am  I, 
Who  watch  for  ever  to  fulfil 
My  lord  the  Rakshas  monarch's  will. 
But  thou  slialt  fall  this  hour,  and  deep 
Shall  be  thy  never-ending  sl^ep.' 

Again  he  spake  : '  In  spite  of  thee 
This  golden  city  will  I  see, 
Her  gates  and  towers,  and  all  the  pride 
Of  street  and  square  from  side  to  side, 
And  freely  wander  where  I  please 
Amid  her  groves  of  flowering  trees  ; 
On  all  her  beauties  sate  mine  eye. 
Then,  as  I  came,  will  homeward  hie.' 

Swift  with  an  angry  roar  she  smote 
With  her  huge  hand  the  Vftnar's  throat, 
The  smitten  VYmar,  rage-impelled, 
With  fist  upraised  the  monster  felled  : 
But  quick  repented,  stirred  with  shame 
And  pity  for  a  vanquished  dame. 
When  with  her  senses  troubled,  weak 
With  terror,  thus  she  strove  to  apeak  : 
'  O  spare  me  thou  whose' aim  is  strong : 
O  spare  me,  and  forgive  the  wrong. 

1  So  in  Paradise   Lost  Satan   when  he 
lias  stealthily  entered  the  garden  of  Eden 

flHHiirnptt  flip  fnrm  r»f  a  onrmnvjinf 


The  brave  that  law  will  ne'er  transgress 
That  spares  a  woman's  helplessness. 
Hear,  best  of  Vanars,  brave  and  bold, 
What  Brahma's  self  of  yore  foretold  ; 
*  Beware,'  he  said,  *  the  fatal  hour 
When  thou  shalt  own  a  Vanar's  power. 
Then  is  the  giants'  day  of  fear, 
For  terror  and  defeat  are  near.' 
Now,  Vanar  chief,  o'ercome  by  thee, 
I  own  the  truth  of  heaven's  decree. 
For  Sita's  sake  will  ruin  fall 
On  Ravan,  and  his  town,  and  all.' 


CANTO  IV. 


WITHIN  THE  CITY. 

The  guardian  goddess  thus  subdued, 
The  Vanar  chief  his  way  pursued, 
Aud  reached  the  broad  imperial  street 
Where  fresh-blown  flowers  were  bright 

and  sweet. 

The  city  seemed  a  fairer  sky 
Where  cloud-like  houses  rose  on  high, 
Whence  the  soft  sound  of  tabors  came 
Through  many  a  latticed  window  frame, 
And  ever  and  anon  rang  out 
The  merry  laugh  and  joyous  shout, 
From  house  to  house  the  Vanar  went 
And  marked  each  varied  ornament, 
Where  leaves  and  blossoms  deftly  strung 
About  the  crystal  columns  hung. 
Then  soft  and  full  and  sweet  and  clear 
The  song  of  women  charmed  his  ear, 
And,  blending  with  their  dulcet  tones, 
Their  anklets'  chime  and  tinkling  zones, 
He  heard  the  Rakshas  minstrels  sing 
The  praises  of  their  matchless  king  ; 
And  softly  through  the  evening  air 
Came  murmurings  of  text  and  prayer. 
Here  moved  a  priest  witu  tonsured  head, 
And  there  an  eager  envoy  sped, 
Mid  crowds  with  hair  in  matted  twine 
Clothed  in  the  skins  of  deer  and  kine, — 
Whose  only  arms, which  none  might  bJame, 
Were  blades  of  grass  and  holy  flame.1 
There  savage  warriors  roamed  in  bands 
With  clubs  and  maces  in  their  hands, 
Some  dwarfish  forms,  some  huge  of  size, 
With  single  ears  and  single  eyes. 
Some  shone  in  glittering  mail  arrayed 
With  bow  and  mace  and  flashing  blade  ; 
Fiends  of  all  shapes  and  every  hue, 
Some  tierce  and  foul,  some  fair  to  view. 


1  Priests  who  fought  only  with  the  wea- 
pons of  religion,  the  sacred  grass  used  like 
the  verbena  of  the  Romans  at  sacred  ritea 
and  the  consecrated  tire  to  consume  the 

Farinnr  r\f   o-Vioo 


Canto   VII. 


THE  HA  MAYAN. 


390 


He  saw  the  grisly  legions  wait 
In  strictest  watch  at  Ravan's  gate, 
Whose  palace  on  the  mountain  crest 
Kose  proudly  towering  o'er  the  rest, 
Fenced  with  high  ramparts  from  the  foe, 
And  lotus-covered  rnoats  below. 
But  Hanuman,  unhindered,  found 
Quick  passage  through  the  guarded  bound, 
fliid  elephants  of  noblest  breed, 
And  gilded  car  and  neighing  steed. 


CANTO  VI,1 


THE  COURT. 

The  palace  gates  were  guarded  well 

By  many  a  Kakshas  sentinel, 

And  far  within,  concealed  from  view, 

Were  dames  and  female  retinue 

For  oharm  of  form  and  face  renowned  ; 

Whose  tinkling  armlets  made  a  sound, 

Clashed  by  the  wearers  in  their  glee, 

Like  music  of  a  distant  sea. 

The  hall  beyond  the  palace  gate, 

Kich  with  each  badge  of  royal  state, 


1  I  omit  Canto  V.  which  corresponds  to 
chapter  XI.  in  Gorresio's  edition.    That 
scholar  justly  observes  :  "  The  eleventh 
chapter,  Description  of    Evening,   is  cer- 
tainly the  work  of  the  Rhapsodists  and 
an  interpolation  of  later  date.    The  chap- 
ter might  be  omitted  without  any  injury 
to  the  action  of  the  poem,  and  besides  the 
metre,  style,  conceits  and   images   differ 
from  the  general  tenour  of  the  poem  ; 
and  that  continual  repetition  of  the  same 
sounds  at  the  end  of  each  hemistich  which 
is  not  exactly  rime,  but  assonance,  reveals 
the  artificial  labour  of  a  more  recent  age.' 
The  following  sample    will   probably   be 
enough.    I  am  unable  to  show  the  differ- 
ence of  style  in  a  translation  : 
Fair  shone  the  moon,  as  if  to  lend 
His  cheering  light  to  guide  a  friend, 
And,  circled  by  the  starry  host, 
Looked  down  upon  the  wild  sea-coast. 
The  Vanar  chieftain  raised  his  eyes, 
And  saw  him  sailing  through  the  skies 
Like  a  bright  swan  who  joys  to  take 
His  pastime  on  a  silver  lake  ; 
Fair  moon  that  cairns  the  mourner's  pain, 
Heaves  up  the  waters  of  the  main, 
And  o'er  the  life  beneath  him  throws 
A  tender  light  of  soft  repose, 
The  charm  that  clings  to  Mandar's  hill, 
Gleams  in  the  sea  when  winds  are  still, 
And  decks  the  lilly's  opening  flower, 
bhowed  in  that  moon  her  sweetest  power. 


Where  lines  of  noble  courtiers  stood, 

Showed  like  a  lion-guarded  wood. 

There  the  wild  music  rose  and  fell 

Of  drum  and  tabor  and  of  shell, 

Through  chambers  at  each  holy  tide 

By  solemn  worship  sanctified. 

Through  grove  and  garden,  undismayed, 

From  house  to  house  the  Vanar  strayed, 

And  still  his  wondering  glances  bent 

On  terrace,  dome,  and  battlement : 

Then  with  a  light  and  rapid  tread 

Prahasta's1  home  he  visited. 

And  Kumbhakarna's2  courtyard  where 

A  cloudy  pile  rose  high  in  air  ; 

And,  wandering  o'er  the  hill,  explored 

The  garden  of  each  Rakshas  lord. 

Each    court    and    grove    lie     wandered 

through, 

Then  nigh  to  Ravan's  palace  drew. 
She-demons  watched  it  foul  of  face, 
Eace  armed  with  sword  and  spear  and 

mace, 

And  warrior  fiends  of  every  hue, 
A  strange  and  fearful  retinue, 
There  elephants  in  many  a  row, 
The  terror  of  the  stricken  foe. 
Huge  Airavat,3  deftly  trained 
In  battle-fields,  stood  ready  chained. 
Fair  litters  on  the  ground  were  set 
Adorned  with  gems  and  golden  net, 
Gay  bloomy  creepers  clothed  the  walls  ; 
Green  bowers  were  there  and  picture  halls, 
And  chambers  made  for  soft  delight. 
Broad  banners  waved  on  every  height, 
And  from  the  roof  like  Mandar's  hill 
The  peacock's  cry  came  loud  and  shrill.4 

CANTO  VII. 

RAVAN'S  PALACE. 

He  passed  within  the  walls  and  gazed 
On  gems  and  gold  that  round  him  blazed, 
And  many  a  latticed  window  bright 
With  turkis  and  with  lazulite. 


1  One  of  the  Rakshas  lords. 

2  The  brother  Ravan. 

3  Indra's  elephant. 

4  Ravan's  palace  appears  to  have  occu- 
pied the  'whole  extent  .of  ground,  and  to 
have  contained  within  its  outer  walls  the 
mansions  of  all  the  great  Ilakshas  chiefs, 
liavaii's  own  dwelling  seems  to  have  been 
situated    within    the  enchanted    chariot 
Pushpak  :  but  the  description  is  involved 
and  confused,   and  it  is   difficult  to  say 
whether  the  chariot  was  inside  the  palace 
or  the  palace  inside  the  chariot. 


400 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole   V. 


Through  porch  and  ante-rooms  he  passed 
Each  richer,  fairer  than  the  last ; 
And  spacious  halls  were  lances  lay, 
And  bows  and  shells,  in  fair  array : 
A  glorious  house  that  matched  in  show 
All  Paradise  displayed  below. 
Upon  the  polished  floor  were  spread 
Fresh  buds  and  blossoms  white  and  red, 
And  women  shone,  a  lovely  crowd, 
As  lightning  flashes  through  a  cloud: 
A  palace  splendid  as  the  sky 
Which  moon  and  planets  glorify  : 
Like  earth  whose  towering  hills  unfold 
Their  zones  and  streaks  of  glittering  gold; 
Where  waving  on  the  mountain  brows 
The  tall  trees  bend  their  laden  boughs, 
And  every  bough  and  tender  spray 
With  a  bright  load  of  bloom  is  gay, 
And  every  flower  the  breeze  has  bent 
Fills  all  the  region  with  its  scent. 
Near  the  tall  palace  pale  of  hue 
Shone  lovely  lakes  where  lilies  blew, 
And  lotuses  with  flower  and  bud 
Gleamed  on  the  bosom  of  the  flood. 
There  shone  with  gems  that  flashed  afar 
The  mantel  of  the  Flower-named1  car, 
Mid  wondrous  dwellings  still  confessed 
Supreme  and  nobler  than  the  rest. 
Thereon  with  wondrous  art  designed 
Were  turkis  birds  of  varied  kind, 
And  many  a  sculptured  serpent  rolled 
His  twisted  coil  in  burnished  gold. 
And  steeds  were  there  of  noblest  fo'rm 
With  flying  feet  as  fleet  as  storm  : 
And  elephants  with  deftest  skill 
Stood  sculptured  by  a  silver  rill, 
Each  bearing  on  his  trunk  a  wreath 
Of  lilies  from  the  flood  beneath. 
There  Lakshmi,2  beauty's  heavenly  queen, 
Wrought  by  the  artist's  skill,  was  seen 
Beside  a  flower-clad  pool  to  stand 
Holding  a  lotus  in  her  hand. 


CANTO  VIII. 


THE  ENCHANTED  CAB. 


There  gleamed  the  car  with  wealth  unt 
Of  precious  gems  and  burnished  gold  ; 


1  Pushpak  from  pusJipa  a  flower.  The 
car  has  been  mentioned  before  in  Ravan's 
expedition  to  carry  off  Sita,  Book  III. 
Canto  XXXV. 

58  Lakshmi  is  the  wife  of  Vishnu  and  the 
Goddess  of  Beauty  and  Felicity!  She  rose, 
like  Aphrodite,  from  the  foam  of  the  sea. 
For  an  account  of  her  birth  and  beauty, 
see  Book  1.  Canto  XLV. 


Nor  could  the  Wind-God's  son  withdraw 

His  rapt  gaze  from  the  sight  he  saw, 

By  Visvakarma's1  self  proclaimed 

The  noblest  work  his  hand  had  framed. 

Uplifted  in  the  air  it  glowed 

Bright  as  the  sun's  diurnal  road. 

The  eye  might  scan  the  wondrous  frame 

And  vainly  seek  one  spot  to  blame, 

r>o  fine  was  every  part  and  fair 

With  gems  inlaid  with  lavish  care. 

No  precious  stones  so  rich  adorn 

The  cars  wherein  the  Gods  are  borne. 

Prize  of  the  all-resistless  might 

That  sprang  from  pain  and  penance  rite,* 

Obedient  to  the  master's  will 

It  moved  o'er  wood  and  towering  hill, 

A  glorious  marvel  well  designed 

By  Viivakarma's  artist  mind, 

Adorned  with  every  fair  device 

That  decks  the  cars  of  Paradise. 

Swift  moving  as  the  master  chose 

It  flew  through  air  or  sank  or  rose,3 

And  in  its  fleetness  left  behind 

The  fury  of  the  rushing  wind  : 

Meet  mansion  for  the  good  and  great, 

The  holy,  wise,  and  fortunate. 

Throughout  the  chariot's  vast  extent 

Were  chambers  wide  and  excellent, 

All  pure  and  lovely  to  the  eyes 

As  moonlight  shed  from  cloudless  skies. 

Fierce  goblins,  rovers  of  the  night 

Who  cleft  the  clouds  with  swiftest  flight 

In  countless  hosts  that  chariot  drew, 

With  earrings  clashing  as  they  flew. 

CANTO  IX. 
THE  LADIES  BOWER. 

Where  stately  mansions  rose  around, 
A  palace  fairer  still  he  found, 
Whose  royal  height  and  splendour  showed 
Where  Jttavan's  self,  the  king,  abode. 
A  chosen  band  with  bow  and  sword 
Guarded  the  palace  of  their  lord, 
Where  Rakshas  dames  of  noble  race 
And  many  a  princess  fair  of  face 
Whom  Ravan's  arm  had  torn  away 
From  vanquished  kings  in  slumber  lay. 

1  Visvakarma  is  the  architect  of  the 
Gods,  the  Hephaestos  or  Mulciber  of  the 
Indian  heaven. 

a  Kavan  in  the  resistless  power  which 
his  long  austerities  had  endowed  him  with, 
had  conquered  his  brother  Kuvera  the 
God  of  Gold  and  taken  from  him  his 
greatest  treasure  this  enchanted  car. 

3  Like  Milton's  heavenly  car  : 

'Itself  instinct  with  spirit.' 


Canto  X. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


401 


There  jewelled  arches  high  o'erhead 

An  ever-changing  lustre  shed 

From  ruby,  pearl,  and  every  gem 

On  golden  pillars  under  them. 

Delicious  came  the  tempered  air 

That  breathed  a  heavenly  summer  there, 

Stealing  through  bloomy  trees  that  bore 

Each  pleasant  fruit  in  endless  store. 

No  check  was  there  from  jealous  guard, 

No  door  was  fast,  no  portal  barred  ; 

Only  a  sweet  air  breathed  to  meet 

The  stranger,  as  a  host  should  greet 

A  wanderer  of  his  kith  and  kin 

And  woo  his  weary  steps  within. 

He  stood  within  a  spacious  hall 

With  fretted  roof  and  painted  wall, 

The  giant  Ravan's  boast  and  pride, 

Loved  even  as  a  lovely  bride. 

'Twere  long  to  tell  each  marvel  there, 

The  crystal  floor,  the  jewelled  stair, 

The  gold,  the  silver,  and  the  shine 

Of  chrysolite  and  almandine. 

There  breathed  the  fairest  blooms  of  spring ; 

There  flashed  the  proud  swan's  silver  wing, 

The  splendour  of  whose  feathers  broke 

Through  fragrant  wreaths  of  aloe  smoke. 

'  Tis  Indra's  heaven,'  the  Vanar  cried, 

Gazing  in  joy  from  side  to  side  ; 

4  The  home  of  all  the  Gods  is  this, 

The  mansion  of  eternal  bliss.' 

There  were  the  softest  carpets  spread, 

Delightful  to  the  sight  and  tread, 

Where  many  a  lovely  woman  lay 

Overcome  by  sleep,  fatigued  with  play. 

The  wine  no  longer  cheered  the  feast, 

The  sound  of  revelry  had  ceased. 

The  tinkling  feet  no  longer  stirred, 

No  chiming  of  a  zone  was  heard. 

So  when  each  bird  has  sought  her  nest, 

And  swans  are  mute  and  wild  bees  rest, 

Sleep  the  fair  lilies  on  the  lake 

Till  the  sun's  kiss  shall  bid  them  wake. 

Like  the  calm  field  of  winter's  sky 

Which  stars  unnumbered  glorify, 

So  shone  and  glowed  the  sumptuous  room 

With  living  stars  that  chased  the  gloom. 

•  These  are  the  stars,'  the  chieftain  cried, 

'In  autumn  nights  that  earth-ward  glide, 

In  brighter  forms  to  reappear 

And  shine  in  matchless  lustre  here.' 

With  wondering  eyes  a  while  he  viewed 

Each  graceful  form  and  attitude. 

One  lady's  head  was  backward  thrown, 

Bare  was  her  arm  and  loose  her  zone. 

The  garland  that  her  brow  had  graced 

Hung  closely  round  another's  waist. 

Here  gleamed  two  little  feet  all  bare 

Of  anklets  that  had  spark  led  there, 

Here  lay  a  queenly  dame  at  rest 

In  all  her  glorious  garments  dressed, 

There  slept  another  whose  small  hand 


Had  loosened  every  tie  and  band, 

In  careless  grace  another  lay 

With  gems  and  jewels  cast  away, 

Like  a  young  creeper  when  the  tread 

Of  the  wild  elephant  has  spread 

Confusion  and  destruction  round, 

And  cast  it  flowerless  to  the  ground. 

Here  lay  a  slumberer  still  as  death, 

Save  only  that  her  balmy  breath 

Raised  ever  and  anon  the  lace 

That  floated  o'er  her  sleeping  face. 

There,  sunk  in  sleep,  an  amorous  maid 

Her  sweet  head  on  a  mirror  laid, 

Like  a  fair  lily  bending  till 

Her  petals  rest  upon  the  rill. 

Another  black-eyed  damsel  pressed 

Her  lute  upon  her  heaving  breast, 

As  though  her  loving  arms  were  twined 

Round  him  for  whom  her  bosom  pined. 

Another  pretty  sleeper  round 

A  silver  vase  her  arms  had  wound, 

That  seemed,  so  fresh  and  fair  and  young 

A  wreath  of  flowers  that  o'er  it  hung. 

In  sweet  disorder  lay  a  throng 

Weary  of  dance  and  play  and  song, 

Where  heedless  girls  had  sunk  to  rest 

One  pillowed  on  another's  breast, 

Her  tender  cheek  half  seen  beneath 

Bed  roses  of  the  falling  wreath, 

The  while  her  long  soft  hair  concealed 

The  beauties  that  her  friend  revealed. 

With  limbs  at  random  interlaced 

Round  arm  and  leg  and  throat  and  waist, 

That  wreath  of  women  lay  asleep 

Like  blossoms  in  a  careless  heap. 


CANTO  X. 
RAVAN  ASLEEP. 

Apart  a  dais  of  crystal  rose 
With  couches  spread  for  soft  repose, 
Adorned  with  gold  and  gems  of  price 
Meet  for  the  halls  of  Paiadise. 
A  canopy  was  o'er  them  spread 
Pale  as  the  light  the  moon  beams  shed, 
And  female  figures,1  deftly  planned, 
The  faces  of  the  sleepers  fanned. 
There  on  a  splendid  couch,  asleep 
On  softest  skins  of  deer  and  sheep. 
Dark  as  a  cloud  that  dims  the  day 
The  monarch  of  the  giants  lay, 
Perfumed  with  sandal's  precious  scent 
And  gay  with  golden  ornament. 


1  Women,  says  Valmiki.  But  the  Com- 
mentator says  that  automatic  figures  only 
are  meant.  Women  would  have  seen 
Hanuman  and  given  the  alarm. 


402 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


Boole  V. 


ttis  fiery  eyes  in  slumber  closed, 
In  glittering  robes  the  king  reposed 
Like  Mandar's  mighty  hill  asleep 
With  flowery  trees  that  clothe  his  steep. 
Near  and  more  near  the  Vanar  drew 
The  monarch  of  the  fiends  to  view, 
And  saw  the  giant  stretched  supine 
Fatigued  with  play  and  drunk  with  wine. 
While,  shaking  all  the  monstrous  frame, 
His  breath  like  hissing  serpents'  came. 
With  gold  and  glittering  bracelets  gay 
His  mighty  arms  extended  lay 
Huge  as  the  towering  shafts  that  bear 
The  flag  of  Indra  high  in  air. 
Scars  by  Airavat's  tusk  impressed 
Showed  red  upon  his  shaggy  breast. 
And  on  his  shoulders  were  displayed 
The  dints  the  thunder-bolt  had  made.1 
The  spouses  of  the  giant  king 
Around  their  lord  were  slumbering, 
And,  gay  with  sparkling  earrings,  shone 
Fair  as  the  moon  to  look  upon. 
There  by  her  husband's  side  was  seen 
Mandodari  the  favourite  queen, 
The  beauty  of  whose  youthful  face 
Beamed  a  soft  glory  through  the  place. 
The  Vanar  marked  the  dame  more  fair 
Than  all  the  royal  ladies  there, 
And  thought,  'These  rarest  beauties  speak 
The  matchless  dame  I  come  to  seek. 
Peerless  in  grace  and  splendour,  she 
The  Maithil  queen  must  surely  be.' 


CANTO  XT. 

THE  BANQUET  HALL. 

But  soon  the  baseless  thought  was  spurned 
And  longing  hope  again  returned  : 
'No:  Kama's  wife  is  none  of  these, 
No  careless  dame  that  lives  at  ease. 
Her  widowed  heart  has  ceased  to  care 
For  dress  and  sleep  and  dainty  fare. 
She  near  a  lover  ne'er  would  lie 
Though  Indra  wooed  her  from  the  sky. 
Her  own,  her  only  lord,  whom  none 
Can  match  in  heaven,  is  Raghu's  son.' 

Then  to  the  banquet  hall  intent 
On  strictest  search  his  steps  he  bent. 
He  passed  within  the  door,  and  found 
Fair  women  sleeping  on  the  ground, 
Where  wearied  with  the  song,  perchance, 
The  merry  game,  the  wanton  dance, 
Each  girl  with  wine  and  sleep  oppressed 


1  Ravan  had  fought  against  Indra  and 
the  Gods,' and  his  body  was  still  scarred 
by  the  wounds  inflicted  by  the  tusks  of 
Indra's  elephant  and  by  the  fiery  bolts  of 
the  Thunderer. 


Had  sunk  her  drooping  head  to  rest. 
That  spacious  hall  from  side  to  side 
With  noblest  fare  was  well  supplied, 
There  quarters  of  the  boar,  and  here 
Roast  of  the  buffalo  and  deer. 
There  on  gold  plate,  untouched  as  yet, 
The  peacock  and  the  hen  were  set. 
There  deftly  mixed  with  salt  and  curd 
Was  meat  of  many  a  beast  and  bird, 
Of  kid  and  porcupine  and  hare, 
And  dainties  of  the  sea  and  air. 
There  wrought  of  gold,  ablaze  with  shine 
Of  precious  stones,  were  cups  of  wine. 
Through  court  and  bower  and  banquet  hall 
The  Vanar  passed  and  viewed  them  all  j 
From  end  to  end,  in  every  spot, 
For  Sita  searched,  but  found  her  not. 

CANTO  XII. 


THE  SEARCH  RENEWED. 

Again  the  Vanar  chief  began 
Each  chamber,  bower,  and  hall  to  scan. 
In  vain  :  he  found  not  her  he  sought, 
And  pondered  thus  in  bitter  thought : 
'  Ah  me  the  Maithil  queen  is  slain: 
She,  ever  true  and  free  from  stain, 
The  fiend's  entreaty  has  denied. 
And  by  his  cruel  hand  has  died. 
Or  has  she  sunk,  by  terror  killed, 
When  first  she  saw  the  palace  filled 
With  female  monsters  evil-miened 
Who  wait  upon  the  robber  fiend  ? 
No  battle  fought,  no  might  displayed, 
In  vain  this  anxious  search  is  made  ; 
Nor  shall  my  steps,  made  slow  by  shame, 
Because  I  failed  to  find  the  dame, 
Back  to  our  lord  the  king  be  bent, 
For  he  is  swift  to  punishment. 
In  every  b^wer  my  feet  have  been, 
The  dames  of  Ravan  have  I  seen  ; 
But  Kama's  spouse  I  seek  in  vain, 
And  all  my  toil  is  fruitless  pain. 
How  shall  I  meet  the  Vanar  band 
I  left  upon  the  ocean  strand  ? 
How,  when  they  bid  me  speak,  proclaim 
These  tidings  of  defeat  and  shame? 
How  shall  I  look  on  Angad's  eye? 
What  words  will  Jambavan  reply? 
Yet  dauntless  hearts  will  never  fail 
To  win  success  though  foes  assail, 
And  I  this  sorrow  will  subdue 
And  search  the  palace  through  and  through, 
Exploring  with  my  cautious  tread 
Each  spot  as  yet  unvisited.' 

Again  he  turned  him  to  explore 
Each  chamber,  hall,  and  corridor, 
And  arbour  bright  with  scented  bloom. 
And  lodge  and  cell  and  picture-room. 


Canto  XIV, 


THE  RAM  A  TAN. 


403 


With  eager  eye  and  noiseless  feet 
He  passed  through  many  a  cool  retreat 
Where  women  lay  in  slumber  drowned; 
But  bit&  still  wab  nowhere  found. 


CANTO  XIII. 


DESPAIR  AND  HOPE, 

Then  rapid  as  the  lightning's  flame 

From  Ravan's  halls  the  Vanar  came. 

Each  lingering  hope  was  cold  and  dead, 

And  thus  within  his  heart  he  said  : 

*  Alas,  my  fruitless  search  is  done  : 

Long  have  I  toiled  for  Haghu's  son  ; 

And  yet  with  all  my  care  have  seen 

No  traces  of  the  ravished  queen. 

It  may  be,  while  the  giant  through 

The  lone  air  with  his  captive  flew, 

The  Maithil  lady,  tender-souled, 

Slipped  struggling  from  the  robber's  hold, 

And  the  wild  sea  is  rolling  now 

O'er  Sita  of  the  beauteous  brow. 

Or  did  she  perish  of  alarm 

When  circled  by  the  monster's  arm  ? 

Or  crushed,  unable  to  withstand 

The  pressure  of  that  monstrous  hand  ? 

Or  when  she  spurned  his  suit  with  scorn, 

Her  tender  limbs  were  rent  and  torn, 

And  she,  her  virtue  unsubdued, 

Was  slaughtered  for  the  giant's  food. 

Shall  I  to  Raghu's  son  relate 

His  well-beloved  consort's  fate, 

My  crime  the  same  if  I  reveal 

The  mournful  story  or  conceal  ? 

If  with  no  happier  tale  to  tell 

I  seek  our  mountain  citadel, 

How  shajll  I  face  our  lord  the  king, 

And  meet  his  angry  questioning  ? 

How  shall  I  greet  my  friends,  and  brook 

The  muttered  taunt,  the  scornful  look  ? 

How  to  the  son  of  Raghu  go 

And  kill  him  with  my  tale  of  woe  ? 

For  sure  the  mournful  tale  I  bear 

Will  strike  him  dead  with  wild  despair, 

And  Lakshman,  ever  fond  and  true, 

Will,  undivided,  perish  too. 

Bharat  will  learn  his  brother's  fate, 

And  die  of  grief  disconsolate, 

And  sad  Satrughna  with  a  cry 

Of  anguish  on  his  corpse  will  die. 

Our  king  Sugriva,  ever  found. 

True  to  each  bond  in  honour  bound, 

Will  mourn  the  pledge  he  vainly  gave, 

And  die  with  him  he  could  not  save. 

Then  Kuma  his  divoted  wife 

For  her  dead  lord  will  leave  her  life, 

And  Tara,  widowed  and  forlorn, 

Will  die  in  anguish,  sorrow-worn. 


)n  Angad  too  the  blow  will  fall 
billing  the  hope  and  joy  of  all. 
The  ruin  of  their  prince  and  king 
Dhe  Va  liars'  souls  with  woe  will  wring, 
And  each,  overwhelmed  with  dark  despair, 
Will  beat  his  head  and  rend  his  hair. 
Each,  graced  and  honoured  long,  will  iniss 
His  careless  life  of  easy  bliss, 
[ri  happy  troops  will  play  no  more 
Dn  breezy  rock  and  shady  shore, 
But  with  his  darling  wife  and  child 
Will  seek  the  mountain  top,  and  wild 
With  hopeless  desolation,  throw 
Himself,  his  wife,  and  babe,  below. 
Ah  no :  miless  the  dame  I  find 
[  ne'er  will  meet  my  Vanar  kind. 
Here  rather  in  some  distant  dell   * 
A  lonely  hermit  will  1  dwell, 
Where  roots  and  berries  will  supply 
My  humble  wants  until  I  die  ; 
Or  on  the  shore  will  raise  a  pyre 
And  perish  in  the  kindled  fire. 
Or  I  will  strictly  fast  until 
With  slow  decay  my  life  I  kill, 
And  ravening  dogs  and  birds  of  air 
The  limbs  of  Hanunmn  shall  tear. 
Here  will  I  die,  but  never  bring 
Destruction  on  my  race  and  king. 
But  still  unsearched  one  grove  I  see 
With  many  a  bright  AsoKa  tree, 
There  will  I  enter  in,  and  through 
The  tangled  shade  my  search  renew. 
Be  glory  to  the  host  on  high, 
The  Sun  and  Moon  who  light  the  sky, 
The  Vasus1  and  the  Maruts'*  train, 
Adityas3  and  the  Asvins4  twain. 
So  may  I  win  success,  and  bring 
The  lady  back  with  triumphing,' 


CANTO  XIV. 

THE  ASOKA  GROVE. 

He  cleared  the  barrier  at  a  bound  ; 
He  stood  within  the  pleasant  ground, 


1  The  Vasus  are  a  class  of  eight  deities, 
originally  personifications  of  natural  phe- 
nomena. 

2  The  Maruts  are  the  winds  or  Storm- 
Gods. 

3  The  Adit3ras    were    originally    seven 
deities  of  the  heavenly  sphere  of  whom 
Varuna  is  the  chief.    The  name   Aditva 
was  afterwards  given  to  any  God,  specially 
to  Surya  the  Sun. 

4  The  Asvins  are  the  Heavenly  Twinst 
the  Castor  and  Pollux  of  the  Hindus. 


404 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


JBoolc   V. 


And  with  delighted  eyes  surveyed 
The  climbing  plants  and  varied  shade. 
He  saw  unnumbered  trees  unfold 
The  treasures  of  their  pendent  gold, 
As,  searching  for  the  Maithil  queen, 
He  strayed  through  alleys  soft  and  green; 
And  when  a  spray  he  bent  or  broke 
Some  little  bird  that  slept  awoke. 
Whene'er  the  breeze  of  morning  blew, 
Where'er  a  startled  peacock  flew, 
The  gaily  coloured  branches  shed 
Their  flowery  rain  upon  his  head 
That  clung  around  the  Vanar  till 
He  seemed  a  blossom-covered  hill.1 
The  earth,  on  whose  fair  bosom  lay 
The  flowers  that  fell  from  every  spray, 
Was  glorious  as  a  lovely  maid 
In  all  her  brightest  robes  arrayed. 
He  saw  the  breath  of  morning  shake 
The  lilies  on  the  rippling  lake 
Whose  waves  a  pleasant  lapping  made 
On  crystal  steps  with  gems  inlaid. 
Then    roaming   through    the  enchanted 

ground, 

A  pleasant  hill  the  Vanar  found, 
And  grottoes  in  the  living  stone 
With  grass  and  flowery  trees  o'ergrpwn . 
Through  rocks  and  boughs  a  brawling  rill 
Leapt  from  the  bosom  of  the  hill, 
Like  a  proud  beauty  when  she  flies 
From  her  love's  arms  with  angry  eyea. 
He  clomb  a  tree  that  near  him  grew 
And  leafy  shade  around  him  threw. 
'  Hence,'  thought  the  Vanar,  '  shall  I  see 
The  Maithil  dame,  if  here  she  be, 
These  lovely  trees,  this  cool  retreat 
Will  surely  tempt  her  wandering  feet. 
Here  the  sad  queen  will  roam  apart, 
And  dream  of  Rama  in  her  heart.' 


CANTO  XV. 


Fair  as  Kailasa  white  with  snow 

He  saw  a  palace  flash  and  glow, 

A  crystal  pavement  gem-inlaid, 

And  coral  steps  and  colonnade, 

And  glittering  towers  that  kissed  the  skies, 

Whose  dazzling  splendour  charmed  his 

eyes. 

There  pallid,  with  neglected  dress, 
Watched  close  by  fiend  and  giantess, 
Her  sweet  face  thin  with  constant  flow 
Of  tears,  with  fasting  and  with  woe  ; 
Pale  as  the  young  moon's  crescent  when 
The  first  faint  light  returns  to  men  : 


1  The  poet  forgets  that  Hanuman  has 


Dim  as  the  flame  when  clouds  of  smoke 

The  latent  glory  hide  and  choke  ; 

Like  Rohini  the  queen  of  stars 

Oppressed  by  the  red  planet  Mars  ; 

From  her  dear  friends  and  husband  torn, 

Amid  the  cruel  fiends,  forlorn, 

Who  fierce-eyed  watch  around  her  kept, 

A  tender  woman  sat  and  wept. 

Her  sobs,  her  sighs,  her  mournful  mien, 

Her  glorious  eyes,  proclaimed  the  queen. 

*This,  this  is  she,'  the  Vanar  cried, 

*  Fair  as  the  moon  and  lotus-eyed, 

I  saw  the  giant  Ravan  bear 

A  captive  through  the  fields  of  air. 

Such  was  the  beauty  of  the  dame  ; 

Her  form,  her  lips,  her  eyes  the  same. 

This  peerless  queen  whom  I  behold 

Is  Rama's  wife  with  limbs  of  gold, 

Best  of  the  sons  of  men  is  he, 

And  worthy  of  her  lord  is  she.' 

CANTO  XVI. 


HANUMAN'S  LAMENT, 

Then,  all  his  thoughts  on  Sita  bent, 

The  Vanar  chieftain  made  lament  : 

'  The  queen  to  Rama's  soul  endeared, 

By  Lakshman's  pious  heart  revered, 

Lies  here, — for  none  may  strive  with  Fate, 

A  captive,  sad  and  desolate. 

The  brothers'  might  full  well  she  knows, 

And  bravely  bears  the  storm  of  woes, 

As  swelling  Ganga  in  the  rains 

The  rush  of  every  flood  sustains. 

Her  lord,  for  her,  fierce  Bali  slew, 

Viradha's  monstrous  might  o'erthrew, 

For  her  the  fourteen  thousand  slain 

In  Janasthan  bedewed  the  plain. 

And  if  for  her  Ikshvaku's  son 

Destroyed  the  world  'twere  nobly  done. 

This,  this  is  she,  so  far  renowned, 

Who  sprang  from  out  the  furrowed  ground,  * 

Child  of  the  high-souled  king  whose  sway 

The  men  of  Mithila  obey  : 

The  glorious  lady  wooed  and  won 

By  Dasaratha's  noblest  son  ; 

And  now  these  sad  eyes  look  on  her 

Mid  hostile  fiends  a  prisoner. 

From  home  and  every  bli*s  she  fled 

By  wifely  love  and  duty  led, 

And  , heedless  of  a  wanderer's  woes, 

A  life  in  lonely  forests  chose. 

This,  this  is  she  so  fair  of  mould, 

Whose  limbs  are  bright  as  burnished  gold, 


1  Sita  'not  of  woman  born,'  was  found 
by  King  Janak  as  he  was  turning  up  the 
ground  in  preparation  for  a  sacrifice,  See  I 

T>«~U   TT     /-i«~4.~  r<  WTTT 


Canto  XV III. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


405 


Whose  voice  was  ever  soft  and  mild. 
Who  sweetly  spoke  and  sweetly  smiled. 
O,  what  is  Rama's  misery  !  how 
He  longs  to  see  his  darling  now  ! 
Pining  for  one  of  her  fond  looks 
AH  one  athirst  for  water-brooks. 
Absorbed  in  woe  the  lady  sees 
No  Rakshas  guard,  no  blooming  trees, 
Her  eyes  are  with  her  thoughts,  and  they 
Are  fixed  on  Rama  far  away/ 

CANTO  XVII. 


CANTO  XVIIL 


SITA'S  GUARD, 

His  pitying  eyes  with  tears  bedewed, 
The  weeping  queen  again  he  viewed. 
And  saw  around  the  prisoner  stand 
Her  demon  guard,  a  fearful  band  : 
Some  earless,  some  with  ears  that  hung 
Low  as  their  feet  and  loosely  swung  : 
Some  fierce  with  single  ears  and  eyes, 
Some  dwarfish,  some  of  monstrous  size  :^ 
Some  with  their  dark  necks  long  and  thin 
With  hair  upon  the  knotty  skin  : 
Some  with  wild  locks,  some  bald  and  bare, 
Some  covered  o'er  with  bristly  hair  : 
Some  tal  1  and  straigh t,some  bowed  and  bent 
With  every  foul  disfigurement : 
All  black  and  fierce  with  eyes  of  fire, 
Ruthless  and  stern  and  swift  to  ire  : 
Some  with  the  jackal's  jaw  and  nose, 
Some  faced  like  boars  and  buffaloes  : 
Some  with  the  heads  of  goats  and  kine, 
Of  elephants,  and  dogs,  and  swine  : 
With  lions'  lips  and  horses'  brows, 
They  walked  with  feet  of  mules  and  cows  :  > 
Swords,  maces,  clubs,  and  spears  they  bore 
In  hideous  hands  that  reeked  with  gore, 
And,  never  sated,  turned  afresh 
To  bowls  of  wine  and  piles  of  flesh. 
Such  were  the  awful  guards  who  stood 
Round  Sita  in  that  lovely  wood, 
While  in  her  lonely  sorrow  she 
Wept  sadly  neath  a  spreading  tree. 
He  watched  the  spouse  of  Rama  there 
Regardless  of  her  tangled  hair, 
Her  jewels  stripped  from  neck  and  limb, 
Decked  only  with  her  love  of  him. 

1  Somewhat  similarly  has  Ariosto  de- 
scribed the  band  of  monsters  at  the  gate 
of  the  city  of  Alcina  : 
'*  Non  f  u  veduta  mai  piu  strana  torma, 
Piu  monstruosi  volti  e  peggio  f  atti ; 
Alcum  dal  collo  in  giu  d'uomini  ban  forma, 
Con  viso  altri  di  simie,  altri  di  gatti  ; 
Stampanoalcunconpiecaprignirorma; 
Aicuui  sin  centauri  agili  ed  atti." 

Orlando  Furioso*  Canto  VI. 


RAVAN. 

While  from  his  shelter  in  the  boughs 
The  Vanar  looked  on  Rama's  spouse 
He  heard  the  gathered  giants  raise 
The  solemn  hymn  of  prayer  and  praise.—* 
Priests  skilled  in  rite  and  ritual,  who 
The  Vedas  and  their  branches'  knew. 
Then,  as  loud  strains  of  music  broke 
His  sleep,  the  giant  monarch  woke. 
Swift  to  bis  heart  the  thought  returned 
Of  the  fair  queen  for  whom  he  burned  ; 
Nor  could  the  amorous  fiend  control 
The  passion  that  absorbed  his  soul. 
In  all  his  brightest  garb  arrayed 
He  hastened  to  that  lovely  shade, 
Where  glowed  each  choicest  flower  and 

fruit, 

And  the  sweet  birds  were  never  mute, 
And  tall  deer  bent  their  heads  to  drink 
On  the  fair  streamlet's  grassy  brink. 
Near  that  Asoka  grove  he  drew,— 
A  hundred  dames  his  retinue, 
Like  Indra  with  the  thousand  eyes 
Girt  with  the  beauties  of  the  skies. 
Some  walked  beside  their  lord  to  hold 
The  chouries,  fans,  and  lamps  of  gold, 
And  others  purest  water  bore 
In  golden  urns,  and  paced  before. 
Some  carried,  piled  on  golden  plates, 
Delicious  food  of  dainty  cates; 
Some  wine  in  massive  bowls  whereon 
The  fairest  gems  resplendent  shone. 
Some  by  the  monarch's  side  displayed, 
Wrought  like  a  swan,  a  silken  shade  : 
Another  beauty  walked  behind, 
The  sceptre  to  her  care  assigned. 
Around  the  monarch  gleamed  the  crowd 
As  lightnings  flash  about  a  cloud, 
And  each  made  music  as  she  went 
With  zone  and  tinkling  ornament. 
Attended  thus  in  royal  state 
The  monarch  reached  the  garden  gate, 
While  gold  and  silver  torches,  fed 
With  scented  oil  a  soft  light  shed.2 


1  The  six  Angus  or  subordinate  branch- 
es of  the  Vedas  are  1.  Sikshd,  the  science 
of  proper  articulation  and  pronunciation: 
2.  Chhandas^metre  :  '3.  Vy a karan a,  lingu- 
istic analysis  or  grammar  :  4.  Nirukta,9 
explanation  of  difficult  Vedic  words: 
5.  Jyotisfia,  Astronomy,  or  rather  the  Vedic 
Calendar  :  6.  Kalpa,  ceremonial. 

2  There  appears  to  be  some  confusion 
of  time  here.  It  was  already  morning 
when  Hanuman  entered  the  grove,  and 
the  torches  would  be  needless. 


40.6 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  F. 


He,  while  the  flame  of  fierce  desire 
Burnt  in  his  eyes  like  kindled  tire, 
Seemed  Love  incarnate  in  his  pride, 
His  bow  and  arrows  laid  aside,1 
His  robe,  from  spot  and  blemish  free 
Like  Amrit  foamy  from  the  sea,2 
Hung  down  in  many  a  loosened  fold 
Inwrought  with  flowers  and  bright  with 

gold. 

The  Vanar  from  his  station  viewed, 
Amazed,  the  wondrous  multitude, 
Where,  in  the  centre  of  that  ring 
Of  noblest  women,  stood  the  king, 
As  stands  the  full  moon  fair  to  view, 
Ctirt  by  his  starry  retinue. 

CANTO  XIX. 

SITE'S    FEAR. 

Then  o'er  the  lady's  soul  and  frame 
A  .sudden  fear  and  trembling  came, 
When,  glowing  in  his  youthful  pride, 
She  saw  the  monarch  by  her  side. 
Silent  she  sat,  her  eyes  depressed, 
Her  soft  arms  folded  o'er  her  breast, 
And,— all  she  could,— her  beauties  screened 
From  the  bold  gazes  of  the  fiend. 
There  where  the  wild  she-demons  kept 
Their  watch  around,  she  sighed  and  wept. 
Then,  like  a  severed  bough,  she  lay 
Prone  on  the  bare  earth  in  dismay, 
The  while  her  thoughts  on  love's  fleet  wings 
Flew  to  her  lord  the  best  of  kings. 
She  fell  upon  the  ground,  and  there 
Lay  struggling  with  her  wild  despair, 
Sad  as  a  lady  born  again 
To  misery  and  woe  and  pain, 
Now  doomed  to  grief  and  low  estate, 
Once  noble  fair  and  delicate: 
Like  faded  light  of  holy  lore, 
Like  Hope  when  all  her  dreams  are  o  er; 
Like  ruined  power  and  rank  debased, 
Like  majesty  of  kings  disgraced: 
Like  worship  foiled  by  erring  slips, 
The  moon  that  labours  in  eclipse  : 
A  pool  with  all  her  lilies  dead, 
An  army  when  its  king  has  fled  : 
So  sad  and  hopeless,  wan  and  worn, 
She  lay  among  the  fiends  forlorn. 


1  Ravan  is  one  of  those  beings  who  can 
"  limb  them  as  they  will "  and  can  of 
course  assume  the  loveliest  form  to  please 
human  eyes  as  well  as  the  terrific  shape 
that  suits  the  king  of  the  Rakshases. 

*  White  and  lovely  as  the  Amrit  or 
nectar  recovered  from  the  depths  of  the 
Mi  Iky  Sea  when  churned  by  the  assembled 
find*"  SOP  "Rook  T.  Canto  XLV. 


CANTO  XX. 

RAVAN'S  WOOING. 

With  amorous  look  and  soft  address 
The  tiend  began  his  suit  to  press  : 
*  Why  wouldst  thou,  lady  lotus-eyed, 
From  my  fond  glance  those  beauties  hide  ? 
Mine  eager  suit  no  more  repel ; 
But  love  me,  for  I  love  thee  well. 
Dismiss,  sweet  dame,  dismiss  thy  fear  ; 
Iso  giant  and  no  man  is  near, 
<  >urs  is  the  right  by  force  to  seize 
What  dames  soe'er  our  fancy  please.1 
But  I  with  rude  hands  will  not  touch 
A  lady  whom  I  love  so  much. 
Fear  not,  dear  queen  :  no  fear  is  nigh : 
Come,  on  thy  lover's  love  rely. 
Some  little  sign  of  favour  show, 
Nor  lie  enamoured  of  thy  woe. 
Those  limbs  upon  the  cold  earth  laid. 
Those  tresses  twined  in  single  braid,* 
The  fast  and  woe  that  wear  thy  frame, 
Beseem  not  thee,  O  beauteous  dame. 
For  thee  the  fairest  wreaths  were  meant, 
The  sandal  and  the  aloe's  scent, 
Rich  ornaments  and  pearls  of  price, 
And  vesture  meet  for  Paradise. 
With  dainty  cates  shouldst  thou  be  fed, 
And  rest  upon  a  sumptuous  bed. 
All  festive  joys  to  thee  belong, 
The  music,  and  the  dance  and  song. 
Rise,  pearl  of  women,  rise  and  deck 
With  gerns  and  chains  thine  arms  and  neck. 
Shall  not  the  dame  I  love  be  seen 
lu  vesture  worthy  of  a  queen  ? 
Methinks  when  thy  sweet  form  was  made 
His  hand  the  wise  Creator  stayed  ; 
For  never  more  could  he  design 
A  beauty  meet  to  rival  thine. 
Come,  let  us  love  while  yet  we  may, 
For  youth  will  fly  and  charms  decay. 
Come,  cast  thy  grief  and  fear  aside, 
And  be  my  love,  my  chosen  bride. 
The  gems  and  jewels  that  my  hand 
Has  reft  from  every  plundered  land,— 
To  thee  I  give  them  all  this  day, 
And  at  thy  feet  my  kingdom  lay. 

1  Ravan  in  his  magic  car  carrying '  off 
the  most  beautiful  women  reminds  us  o 
the  magician  in  Orlando  Furioso,  possessor 
of  the  flying  horse  : 

'•  Volando  talor  s'alza  ne  le  stelle, 
E  poi  quasi  talor  la  terra  rade  ; 
E  ne  porta  con  lui  tutte  le  belle 
Donne  che  trova  perquelle  contrade." 

2  Indian  women  twisted  their  long  hair 
in  a  single  braidas  a  sign  of  mourning  for 
their  absent  husbands. 


Canto  XXI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


407 


The  broad  rich  earth  will  I  o'errun, 
And  leave  no  town  unconquered,  none; 
Then  of  the  whole  an  offering  make 
To  Janak, '  dear,  for  thy  sweet  sake. 
In  all  the  world  no  power  I  see 
Of  God  or  man  can  strive  with  me. 
Of  old  the  Gods  and  Asurs  set 
In  terrible  array  I  met : 
Their  scattered  hosts  to  earth  I  beat, 
And  trod  their  flags  beneath  my  feet. 
Come,  taste  of  bliss  and  drink  thy  fill, 
And  rule  the  slave  who  serves  thy  will. 
Think  not  of  wretched  Rama :  he 
Is  less  than  nothing  now  to  thee. 
Stript  of  his  glory,  poor,  dethroned, 
A  wanderer  by  his  friends  disowned, 
On  the  cold  earth  he  lays  his  head, 
Or  is  with  toil  and  misery  dead. 
And  if  perchance  he  lingers  yet, 
His  eyes  on  thee  shall  ne'er  be  set. 
Could  he,  that  mighty  monarch,  who 
Was  named  Hiranyakasipu. 
Could  he  who  wore  the  garb  of  gold 
Win  Glory  back  from  Indra's  hold?* 
O  lady  of  the  lov.ely  smile. 
Whose  eyes  the  sternest  heart  beguile, 
In  all  thy  radiant  beauty  dressed 
My  heart  and  soul  thou  ravishest. 
What  though  thy  robe  is  soiled  and  worn, 
And  no  bright  gems  thy  limbs  adorn, 
Thou  unadorned  art  dearer  far 
yhan  all  my  loveliest  consorts  are. 
My  royal  home  is  bright  and  fair ; 
A  thousand  beauties  meet  me  there. 
But  come,  my  glorious  love,  and  be 
The  queen  of  all  those  dames  and  me.' 


CANTO  XXI. 


SITA'S  SCORH. 

She  thought  upon  her  lord  and  sighed, 
And  thus  in  gentle  tones  replied  : 
1  Beseems  thee  not,  O  King,  to  woo 
A  matron,  to  her  husband  true. 
Thus  vainly  one  might  hope  by  sin 
And  evil  deeds  success  to  win. 
Shall  I,  so  highly  born,  disgrace 
'My  husband's  house,  my  royal  race? 


1  Janak,  king  of  Mithila,  was  Sita's 
father. 

*  Hiranyakasipu  was  a  king  of  the 
iDaityas  celebrated  for  his  blasphemous 
rimpieties.  When  his  pious  son  Prahlada 
praised  Vishnu  the  Daitya  tried  to  kill  him, 
when  the  God  appeared  in  the  incarnation 
of  the  man-lion  aud  tore  the  tyrant  to 
pieces. 


Shall  I,  a  true  and  loyal  dame, 
Defile  my  soul  with  deed  of  shame  ? ' 

Then  on  the  king  her  back  she  turned, 
And  answered  thus  the  prayer  she  spurned : 
'  Turn,  Ravan,  turn  thee  from  thy  sin  ; 
Seek  virtue's* paths  and  walk  therein. 
To  others  dames  be  honour  shown ; 
Protect  them  as  thou  wouldst  thine  own. 
Taught  by  thyself,  from  wrong  abstain 
Which,  wrought  on  thee,  thy  heart  would 

pain.1 

Beware  :  this  lawless  love  of  thine 
Will  ruin  thee  and  all  thy  line  ; 
And  for  thy  sin,  thy  sin  alone, 
Will  Lanka  perish  overthrown. 
Dream  not  that  wealth  and  power  can  sway 
My  heart  from  duty's  path  to  stray. 
Linked  like  the  Day-God  and  his  shine, 
I  am  my  lord's  and  he  is  mine. 
Repent  thee  of  thine  impious  deed  ; 
To  Kama's  side  his  consort  lead. 
Be  wise :  the  hero's  friendship  gain, 
Nor  perish  in  his  fury  slain. 
Go,  ask  the  God  of  Death  to  spare, 
Or  red  bolt  dashing  through  the  air. 
But  look  in  vain  for  spell  or  charm 
To  stay  my  Rama's  vengeful  arm. 
Thou,  when  the  hero  bends  his  bow, 
Shalt  hear  the  clang  that  heralds  woe, 
Loud  as  the  clash  when  clouds  are  rent 
And  Indra's  bolt  to  earth  is  sent. 
Then  shall  his  furious  shafts  be  sped, 
Each  like  a  snake  with  fiery  head. 
And  in  their  flight  shall  hiss  and  flame 
Marked  with  the  mighty  archer's  name.2 
Then  in  the  fiery  deluge  all 
Thy  giants  round  their  king  shall  fall.' 


1  Do  unto  others  as  thou  wouldst  they 
should  do  unto  thee,  is  a  precept  frequently 
occurring  in  the  old  Indian  poems. 

This  charity  is  to  embrace  not  human 
beings  only,  but  bird  and  beast  as  well : 
"He  praveth  best  who  loveth  best  all 
things  both  great  and  small." 

2  It  was  the  custom  of  Indian  warriors 
to  mark  their  arrows  with  their  ciphers  or 
names,  and  it  seems  to  have  been  regard- 
ed as  a  point  of  honour  to  give  an  enemy 
the  satisfaction  of  knowing  who  had  shot 
at  him.  This  passage  however  contains,  if 
my  memory  serves  me  well,  the  first  men- 
tion in  the  poem  of  this  practice,   and  as 
arrows  have  been  so  frequently  mentioned 
and  described  with  almost  every  conceiv- 
able epithet,  its  occurrence  here  seems 
suspicious.    No  mention  of,  or  allusion  to 
writing  has  hitherto  occurred  in  the  poem. 


403 


TUE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole 


CANTO  XXII. 

RAVAN'S  THREAT. 

Then  anger  swelled  in  Ravan's  breast, 
"Who  fiercely  thus  the  dame  addressed  : 
"Tis  ever  thus  :  in  vain  we  sue 
To  woman,  and  her  favour  woo. 
A  lover's  humble  words  impel 
Her  wayward  spirit  to  rebel. 
The  love  of  thee  that  fills  my  soul 
Still  keeps  my  anger  in  control, 
As  charioteers  with  bit  and  rein 
The  swerving  of  the  steed  restrain. 
The  love  that  rules  me  bids  me  spare 
Thy  forefeit  life,  0  thou  most  fair. 
For  this,  O  Sita,  have  I  borne 
The  keen  reproach,  the  bitter  scorn, 
And  the  fond  love  thou  boastest  yet 
For  that  poor  wandering  anchoret  ; 
Else  had  the  words  which  thou  hast  said 
Brought  death  upon  thy  guilty  head. 
Two  months,  fair  dame,  I  grant  thee  still 
To  bend  thee  to  thy  lover's  will. 
If  when  that  respite  time  is  fled 
Thou  still  refuse  to  share  my  bed, 
My  cooks  shall  mince  thy  limbs  with  steel 
And  serve  thee  for  my  morning  meal.'1 

The  minstrel  daughters  of  the  skies 
Looked  on  her  woe  with  pitying  eyes, 
And  sun-bright  children  of  the  Gods3 
Consoled  the  queen  with  smiles  and  nods. 
She  saw,  and  with  her  heart  at  ease, 
Addressed  the  tiend  in  words  like  these; 
4  Hast  thou  no  friend  to  love  thee,  none 
In  all  this  isle  to  bid  thee  shun 
The  ruin  which  thy  crime  will  bring 
On  thee  and  thine,  O  impious  King? 
Who  in  all  worlds  save  thee  could  woo 
31e,  Rama's  consort  pure  and  true, 
As  though  he  tempted  with  his  love 
Queen  Saohi3  on  her  throne  above  ? 
How  canst  thou  hope,  vile  wretch,  to  fly 
The  vengeance  that  e'en  now  is  nigh, 
When  thou  hast  dared,    untouched  by 

shame, 

To  press  thy  suit  on  Rama's  dame  ? 
Where  woods  are  thick  and  grass  is  high 
A  lion  and  a  hare  may  lie  ; 
My  Rama  is  the  lion,  thou 
Art  the  poor  hare  beneath  the  bough. 
Thou  railest  at  the  lord  of  men, 
But  wilt  not  stand  within  his  ken, 


1  This  threat  in  the  same  words  occurs 
in  Book  III.  Canto  LVI. 

2  Ravan  carried   off  and  kept  in  his 
palace  not  only  earthly  princesses  but  the 
daughters  of  Gods  and  Gandharvas, 

*  The  wife  of  India. 


What  1  is  that  eye  unstricken  yet 
Whose  impious  glance  on  me  was  set? 
Still  moves  that  tongue  that  would  not  spar 
The  wife  of  Dasaratha's  heir?' 

Then,  hissing  like  a  furious  snake, 
The  tiend  again  to  Sita  fpake  : 
4  Deaf  to  all  prayers  and  threats  art  thoi 
Devoted  to  thy  senseless  vow, 
No  longer  respite  will  I  give, 
And  thou  this  day  shalt  cease  to- live  ; 
For  I,  as  sunlight  kills  the  morn, 
Will  slay  thee  for  thy  scathe  and  scorn.' 

The  Rakshas  guard  was  summoned:  a 
The  monstrous  crew  obeyed  the  call, 
And  hastened  to  the  king  to  take 
The  orders  which  he  fiercely  spake : 
'  See  that  ye  guard  her  well,  and  tame, 
Like  some  wild  thing,  the  stubborn  dani< 
Until  her  haughty  soul  be  bent 
By  mingled  threat  and  blandishment.'1 

The  monsters  heard:  away  he  strode, 
And  passed  within  his  queens'  abode. 


CANTO  XXIII. 

THE  DEMONS'  THREATS. 

Then  round  the  helpless  Sita  drew 
With  fiery  eyes  the  hideous  crew, 
And  thus  assailed  her,  all  and  each, 
With  insult,  taunt,  and  threatening  speed 
'  What !  can  it  be  thou  prizest  not 
This  happy  chance,  this  glorious  lot, 
To  be  the  chosen  wife  of  one 
So  strong  and  great,  Fulastya's  son  ? 
Pulastya — thus  have  sages  told — 
Is  mid  the  Lords  of  Life2  enrolled. 
Lord  Brahma's  mind-born  son  was  he, 
Fourth  of  that  glorious  company. 
Visravas  from  Pulastya  sprang, — 
Through  all  the  worlds  his  glory  rang. 
And  of  Visravas,  large-eyed  dame  ! 
Our  king  the  mighty  Ravan  came. 
His  happy  consort  thou  inayst  be: 
Scorn  not  the  words  we  say  to  thee.' 

One  awful  demon,  fiery-eyed, 
Stood  by  the  Maithil  queen  and  cried; 
'  Come  and  be  his,  if  thou  art  wise, 
Who  smote  the  sovereign  of  the  skies, 
And  made  the  thirty  Gods  and  three,3 
O'eroome  in  furious  battle,  flee. 


1  These  four  lines  have  occurred  befoi 
Book  III.  Canto  LVI. 

2  Prajapatis  are  the  ten  lords  of  creati 
beings  first  created   by   Brahma, ;    som 
what  like  the  Demiurgi  of  the  Gnostics. 

3  "This  is  the   number   of   the   Veil 
divinities  mentioned  in  the  iiig-veda. 


Canto  XXV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


409 


Thy  lover  turns  away  with  scorn 
From  wives  whom  grace  and  youth  adorn. 
Thou  art  his  chosen  consort,  thou 
Shalt  be  his  pride  and  darling  now.' 

Another,  Vikata  by  name, 
In  words  like  these  addressed  the  dame : 
'  The  king  whose  blows,  in  fury  dealt, 
The  Nagas1  and  Gandharvas*  felt, 
In  battle's  fiercest  brunt  subdued, 
Has  stood  by  thee  arid  humbly  wooed. 
A.nd  wilt  thou  in  thy  folly  miss 
rhe  glory  of  a  love  like  this  ? 
Scared  by  his  eye  the  sun  grows  chill, 
rhe  wanderer  wind  is  hushed  and  still. 
rhe  rains  at  his  command  descend, 
Ind  trees  with  new-blown  blossoms  bend. 
His  word  the  hosts  of  demons  fear, 
lud  wilt  thou,  dame,  refuse  to  hear  ? 
Be  counselled  ;  with  his  will  comply, 
Dr,  lady,  thou  shalt  surely  die.' 

kshtaka  I.  Sukta  XXXLV.  ^the  Bishi 
Hiranyastupa  invoking  the  Asvins  says  : 
^Nasatyatribhirekadasairihadevebhirya- 
;am  :  "  O  Nasatyas  (Asvins)  come  hither 
vith  the  thrice  eleven  Gods."  And  in 
Sukta  XLV.  the  Bishi  Praskanva  ad- 
Jressing  his  hymn  to  Agni  (ignis,  tire), 
;hus  invokes  him  :  "  Lord  of  the  red 
iteeds,  propitiated  by  our  prayers  lead 
lither  the  thirty-three  Gods."  This  num- 
)er  must  certainly  have  been  the  actual 
lumber  in  the  early  days  of  the  Vedic 
•eligion  ;  although  it  appears  probable 
mough  that  the  thirty-three  Vedic  divini- 
iies  could  not  then  be  found  co-ordinated 
n  so  systematic  a  way  as  they  were  ar- 
•anged  more  recently  by  the  authors  of 
he  Upanishads.  In  the  later  ages  of 
3rah manism  the  number  went  on  increas- 
ng  without  measure  by  successive  mythi- 
cal and  religious  creations  which  peopled 
ihe  Indian  Olympus  with  abstract  beings 
>f  every  kind.  But  through  lasting  vener- 
ation of  the  word  of  the  Veda  the  custom 
•emained  of  giving,  the  name  of  "the 
hirty-three  Gods"  to  the  immense  pha- 
anx  of  the  multiplied  deities."  GOR- 

IESIO. 

1  Serpent- Gods  who  dwell  in  the  regions 
inder  the  earth. 

2  In  the  mythology  of   the  epics  the 
iandharvas  are  the  heavenly  singers  or 
nusicians  who  form  the  orchestra  at  the 
Kiuquets  of  the  Gods,  and  they  belong  to 
he  heaven  of  Indra  in  whose  battloa  they 
hare. 


CANTO  XXIV. 


SI'TA'S  REPLY, 

Still  with  reproaches  rough  and  rude 
Those  fiends  the  gentle  queen  pursued  : 
'  What !  can  so  fair  a  life  displease, 
To  dwell  with  him  in  joyous  ease  ? 
Dwell  in  his  bowers  a  happy  queen 
In  silk  and  gold  and  jewels'  sheen? 
Still  must  thy  woman  fancy  cling 
To  Rama  and  reject  our  king  ? 
Die  in  thy  folly,  or  forget 
That  wretched  wandering  anchoret. 
Come,  Sita,  in  luxurious  bowers 
Spend  with  our  lord  thy  happy  hours  ; 
The  mighty  lord  who  makes  his  own 
The  treasures  of  the  worlds  o'erthrown.' 

Then,  as  a  tear  bedewed  her  eye, 
The  hapless  lady  made  reply  : 
*  I  loathe,  with  heart  and  soul  detest 
The  shameful  life  your  words  suggest. 
Bat,  if  you  will,  this  mortal  frame  : 
My  soul  rejects  the  sin  and  shame. 
A  homeless  wanderer  though  he  be, 
In  him  my  lord,  my  life  I  see, 
And,  till  my  earthly  days  be  done, 
Will  cling  to  great  Ikshvaku's  son. 

Then  with  fierce  eyes  on  Sita  set 
They  cried  again  with  taunt  and  threat : 
Each  licking  with  her  fiery  tongue 
The  lip  that  to  her  bosom  hung, 
And  menacing  the  lady's  life 
With  axe,  or  spear  or  murderous  knife : 
'  Hear,  Sita,  and  our  words  obey. 
Or  perish  by  our  hands  to-day, 
Thy  love  for  Raghu's  son  forsake, 
And  Ravan  for  thy  husband  take, 
Or  we  will  Vend  thy  limbs  apart 
And  banquet  on  thy  quivering  heart. 
Now  from  her  body  strike  the  head, 
And  tell  the  king  the  daine  is  dead. 
Then  by  our  lord's  commandment  she 
A  banquet  for  our  band  shall  be. 
Come,  let  the  wine  be  quickly  brought 
That  frees  each  heart  from  saddening 

thought. 

Then  to  the  western  gate  repair, 
And  we  will  dance  and  revel  there.' 


CANTO  XXV. 

SITA'S  LAMENT. 

On  the  bare  earth  the  lad)''  sank, 
And  trembling  from  their  presence  shrank 
Like  a  strayed  fawn,  when  night  is  dark, 
And  hungry  wolves  arbuud  her  bark, 


410 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  V 


Then  to  a  shady  tree  she  crept, 
And  thought  upon  her  lord  and  wept. 
By  fear  and  bitter  woe  oppressed 
She  bathed  the  beauties  of  her  breast 
With  her  hot  tears'  incessant  flow, 
And  found  no  respite  from  her  woe. 
As  shakes  a  plantain  in  the  breeze 
She  shook,  and  fell  on  trembling  knees  ; 
While  at  each  demon's  furious  look 
Her  cheek  its  native  hue  forsook. 
She  lay  and  wept  and  made  her  moan 
In  sorrow's  saddest  undertone, 
And,  wild  with  grief,  with  fear  appalled, 
On  Kama  and  his  brother  called  : 
'  O  dear  Kausalya,1  '  hear  me  cry  ! 
Sweet  Queen  Sumitra,2  list  my  sigh  ! 
True  is  the  saw  the  wise  declare  : 
Death  comes  not  to  relieve  despair, 
'Tis  vain  for  dame  or  man  to  pray  ; 
Death  will  not  bear  before  his  day; 
Since  I,  from  Rama's  sight  debarred, 
And  tortured  by  my  cruel  guard, 
Still  live  in  hopeless  woe  to  grieve 
And  loathe  the  life  I  may  not  leave, 
Here,  like  a  poor  deserted  thing, 
My  limbs  upon  the  ground  I  fling, 
And,  like  a  bark  beneath  the  blast, 
Shall  sink  oppressed  with  woes  at  last, 
Ah,  blest  are  they,  supremely  blest, 
Whose  eyes  upon  my  lord  may  rest  ; 
Who  mark  his  lion  port,  and  hear 
His  gentle  speech  that  charms  the  ear. 
Alas,  what  antenatal  crime, 
What  trespass  of  forgotten  time 
Weighs  on  my  soul,  and  bids  me  bow 
Beneath  this  load  of  misery  now  ? ' 

CANTO  XXVI. 


SITA'S  LAMENT, 

*  I  Rama's  wife,  on  that  sad  day, 
By  Ravan's  arm  was  borne  away, 
Seized,  while  I  sat  and  feared  no  ill, 
By  him  who  wears  each  form  at  will. 
A  helpless  captive,  left  forlorn 
To  demons'  threats  arid  taunts  and  scorn, 
Here  for  my  lord  1  weep  and  sigh. 
And  worn  with  woe  would  gladly  die. 
For  what  is  life  to  me  afar 
From  Rama  of  the  mighty  car  ? 
The  robber  in  his  fruitless  sin 
Would  hope  his  captive's  love  to  win. 
My  meaner  foot  shall  never  touch 
The  demon  whom  I  loathe  so  much. 
The  senseless  fool !  he  knows  me  not, 
Nor  the  proud  soul  his  love  would  blot, 


1  The  mother  of  Kama. 

2  The  mother  of  Lakshman. 


Yea,  limb  from  limb  will  I  be  rent, 
But  never  to  his  prayer  consent ; 
Be  burnt  and  perish  in  the  fire, 
But  never  meet  his  base  desire. 
My  lord  was  grateful,  true  and  wise, 
And  looked  on  woe  with  pitying  eyes  ; 
But  now,  recoiling  from  the  strife, 
He  pities  not  his  captive  wife. 
Alone  in  Janasthan  he  slew 
The  thousands  of  the  Rakshas  crew. 
His  arm  was  strong,  his  heart  was  brave, 
Why  comes  he  not  to  free  and  save  ? 
Why  blame  my  lord  in  vain  surmise 
He  knows  not  where  his  lady  lies. 
O,  if  he  knew,  oVr  land  and  sea 
His  feet  were  swift  to  set  me  free  ; 
This  Lanka,  girdled  by  the  deep, 
Would  fall  consumed,  a  shapeless  heap 
And  from  each  ruined  home  would  rise 
A  Rakshas  widow's  groans  and  cries,' 


CANTO  XXVII, 
TRUATA'S  DREAM. 

Their    threats    unfeared,    their  counse 

spurned. 

The  demons'  breasts  with  fury  burned. 
Some  sought  the  giant  king  to  bear 
The  tale  of  Sita's  fixt  despair. 
With  threats  and  taunts  renewed  the  re  si 
Around  the  weeping  lady  pressed. 
But  Trijata,  of  softer  mould, 
A  Rakshas  matron  wise  and  old, 
With  pity  for  the  captive  moved, 
In  words  like  these  the  fiends  reproved ; 
'  Me,  me,'  she  cried,  '  eat  me,  but  spare 
The  spouse  of  Dasaratha's  heir. 
Last  night  I  dreamt  a  dream  ;  and  still 
The  fear  and  awe  my  bosom  chill  ; 
For  in  that  dream  {  saw  foreshown 
Our  race  by  Rama's  hand  o'erthrovvn. 
I  saw  a  chariot  high  in  air, 
Of  ivory  exceeding  fair. 
A  hundred  steeds  that  chariot  drew 
As  swiftly  through  the  clouds  it  flew, 
And,  clothed  in  white,  with  wreaths  tl*a 

shone, 

The  sons  of  Raghu  rode  thereon. 
I  looked  and  saw  this  lady  here, 
Clad  in  the  purest  white,  appeal- 
High  on  the  snow-white  hill  whose  feet 
The  angry  waves  of  ocean  beat. 
And  she  and  Rama  met  at  last 
Like  light  and  sun  when  night  is  past. 
Again  I  saw  them  side  by  side : 
On  Ravan's  car  they  seemed  to  ride, 
And  with  the  princely  Lakshman  flee 
To  northern  realms  beyond  the  sea. 


Canto 


TttE  RAMAYAN. 


411 


Then  Ravan,  shaved  and  shorn,  besmeared 
With  oil  from  head  to  foot,  appeared. 
He  quaffed,  he  raved  :  his  robes  were  red: 
Fierce  was  his  eye,  and  bare  his  head. 
I  saw  him  from  his  chariot  thrust  ; 
I  saw  him  rolling  in  the  dust. 
A  woman  came  and  dragged  away 
The  stricken  giant  where  he  lay, 
And  on  a  car  which  asses  drew 
The  monarch  of  our  race  she  threw< 
He  rose  erect,  he  danced  and  laughed, 
With  thirsty  lips  the  oil  he  quaffed, 
Then  with  wild  eyes  and  streaming  mouth 
Sped  on  the  chariot  to  the  south; l 
Then,  dropping  oil  from  every  limb, 
His  sons  the  princes  followed  him, 
And  Kumbhakarna,2  shaved  and  shorn, 
Was  southward  on  a  camel  borne. 
Then  royal  Lanka  reeled  and  fell 
With  gate  and  tower  and  citadel. 
This  ancient  city,  far-renowned  : 
All  life  within  her  walls  was  drowned  ; 
And  the  wild  waves  of  ocean  rolled 
O'er  Lanka  and  her  streets  of  gold. 
Warned  by  these  signs  I  bid  you  fly  ; 
Or  by  the  hand  of  Rama  die, 
Whose  vengeance  will  not  spare  the  life 
Of  one  who  vexed  his  faithful  wife. 
Your  bitter  taunts  and  threats  forgo  : 
Comfort  the  lady  in  her  woe, 
And  humbly  pray  her  to  forgive ; 
For  so  you  may  be  spared  and  live.' 


CANTO  XXX.3 

HANUMAN'S  DELIBERATION. 

The  Vanar  watched  concealed  :  each  word 
Of  Sita"  and  the  fiends  he  heard, 


1  In  the  south  is  the  region  of  Yama  the 
God  of  Death,  the  place  of  departed  spirits. 

*  Kumbhakarna  was  one  of  Ravan's 
brothers. 

3  I  omit  the  28th  and  29th  Cantos  as  an 
Tinmistakeable  interpolation.  Instead  of 
advancing  the  story  it  goes  back  to  Canto 
XVII.  containing  a  lamentation  of  8it& 
after  Ravan  has  left  her,  and  describes  the 
the  auspicious  signs  sent  to  cheer  her,  the 
throbbing  of  her  left  eye,  arm,  and  side. 
The  Canto  is  found  in  the  Bengal  recen- 
sion. Gorresio  translates  it.  and  observes  : 
"I  think  that  Chapter  XXVIII.— The 
Auspicious  Signs— is  an  addition,  a  later 
interpolation  by  the  Rhapsodists.  It  has 
no  bond  of  connexion  either  with  what 
precedes  or  follows  it,  and  may  be  struck 
out  not  only  without  injury  to,  but  poai- 


And  in  a  maze  of  anxious  thought 
His  quick-conceiving  bosom  wrought  : 
'  At  length  my  watchful  eyes  have  seen, 
Pursued  so  long,  the  Maithil  queen, 
Sought  by  our  Vanar  hosts  in  vain 
From  east  to  west,  from  main  to  main, 
A  cautious  spy  have  I  explored 
The  palace  of  the  Rakhshas  lord, 
And  thoroughly  learned,  concealed  from 

sight, 

The  giant  monarch's  power  and  might. 
And  now  my  task  must  be  to  cheer 
The  royal  dame  who  sorrows  here. 
For  if  I  gOj  and  soothe  her  not, 
A  captive  in  this  distant  spot, 
She,  when  she  finds  no  comfort  nigh, 
Will  sink  beneath  her  woes  and  die. 
How  shall  my  tale,  if  unconsoled 
I  leave  her,  be  to  Rama  told  ? 
How  shall  I  answer  Raghu's  son, 
'  No  message  from  my  darling,  none? ' 
The  husband's  wrath,  to  fury  fanned, 
Will  scorch  me  lifeless  where  I  stand, 
Or  if  I  urge  my  lord  the  king 
To  Lanka's  isle  his  hosts  to  bring, 
In  vain  will  be  his  zeal,  in  vain 
The  toil,  the  danger,  and  the  pain. 
Yea,  this  occasion  must  I  seize 
That  from  her  guard  the  lady  frees,1 
To  win  her  ear  with  soft  address 
And  whisper  hope  in  dire  distress. 
Shall  I.  a  puny  Vanar,  choose 
The  Sanskrit  men  delight  to  use  ? 
If.  as  a  man  of  Brahman  kind, 
I  speak  the  tongue  by  rules  refined. 
The  lady,  yielding  to  her  fears, 
Will  think  'tis  Ravan's  voice  she  hears, 
I  must  assume  mj'  only  plan — 
The  language  of  a  common2  man. 
Yet,  if  the  lady  sees  me  nigh, 

tively  to  the  advantage  of  the  poem.  The 
metre  in  which  this  chapter  is  written 
differs  from  that  which  is  generally  adopt- 
ed in  the  course  of  the  poem.' 

1  The  guards  are  still  in  the  grove,  but 
they  are  asleep  ;  and  Sit£  has  crept  to  a 
tree  at  some  distance  from  them. 

"As  the  reason  assigned  in  these  pas- 
sages  for  not  addressing  Sita"  in  Sanskrit 
such  as  a  Brahman  would  use  is  not  that 
she  would  not  understand  it,  but  that  it 
would  alarm  her  and  be  unsuitable  to  the 
speaker,  we  must  take  them  as  indicating 
that  Sanskrit,  if  not  spoken  by  women  of 
the  upper  classes  at  the  time  when  the 
Ramayana  was  written  (whenever  that 
may  have  been),  was  at  least  understood 
by  them,  and  was  commonly  spoken  by 
men  of  the  priestly  class,  and  other  edu- 
cated persons,  By  the  Sanskrit  proper  to 


412 


THE  RA MAYAN. 


Boole  1 


In  terror  she  will  start  and  cry  ; 

And  all  the  demon  band,  alarmed, 

Will  come  with  various  weapons  armed, 

With  their  wild  shouts  the  grove  will  fill, 

And  strive  to  take  me,  or  to  kill. 

And,  at  my  death  or  capture,  dies 

The  hope  of  Rama's  enterprise. 

For  none  can  leap,  save  only  me, 

A  hundred  leagues  across  the  sea. 

It  is  a  sin  in  me,  I  own, 

To  talk  with  Janak's  child  alone. 

Yet  greater  is  the  sin  if  I 

Be  silent,  and  the  lady  die. 

First  I  will  utter  Rama's  name. 

And  laud  the  hero's  gifts  and  fame. 

Perchance  the  name  she  holds  so  dear 

Will  soothe  the  faithful  lady's  fear.' 


CANTO  XXXI. 


HANUMAN'S  SPEECH. 

Then  in  sweet  accents  low  and  mild 
The  Vanar  spoke  to  Janak's  child  : 
'  A  noble  king,  by  sin  unstained, 
The  mighty  Dasaratha  reigned. 
Lord  of  the  warrior's  car  and  steed, 
The  pride  of  old  Ikshvaku's  seed. 
A  faithful  friend,  a  blameless  king. 
Protector  of  each  living  thing. 
A  glorious  monarch,  strong  to  save, 
Blest  with  the  bliss  he  freely  gave. 
His  son,  the  best  of  all  who  know 
The  science  of  the  bended  bow, 
Was  moon-bright  Rama,  brave  and  strong, 
Who  loved  the  right  and  loathed  the  wrong, 
Who  ne'er  from  kingly  duty  swerved, 
Loved  by  the  lands  his  might  preserved. 
His  feet  the  path  of  law  pursued  ; 
His  arm  rebellious  foes  subdued. 
His  sire's  command  the  prince  obeyed 
And,  banished,  sought  the  forest  shade, 
Where  with  his  wife  and  brother  he 
Wandered  a  saintly  devotee. 
There  as  he  roamed  the  wilds  he  slew 
The  bravest  of  the  Rakshas  crew. 
The  giant  king  the  prince  beguiled, 
And  stole  his  consort.  Janak's  child. 
Then  Rama  roamed  the  country  round, 
And  a  firm  friend,  Sugriva,  found, 
Lord  of  the  Vanar  race,  expelled 
From  his  own  realm  which  Bali  held, 


He  conquered  Bali  and  restored 
The  kingdom  to  the  rightful  lord, 
Then  by  Sugriva's  high  decree 
The  Vanar  legions  searched  for  thee, 
Sampati's  counsel  bade  me  leap 
A  hundred  leagues  across  the  deep. 
And  now  my  happy  eyes  have  seen 
At  last  the  long-sought  iMaithil  queen. 
Such  was  the  form,  the  eye,  the  grace 
Of  her  whom  Rama  bade  me  trace.' 

He  ceased  :  her  flowing  locks  she  drew 
To  shield  her  from  a  stranger's  view  ; 
Then,  trembling  in  her  wild  surprise. 
Raised  to  the  tree  her  anxious  eyes. 


CANTO  XXXII. 

SITA'S  DOUBT. 

Her  eyes  the  Maithil  lady  raised 
Aud  on  the  monkey  speaker  gazed. 
She  looked,  and  trembling  at  the  sight 
Wept  bitter  tears  in  wild  affright. 
She  shank  a  while  with  fear  distraught, 
Then,  nerved  again,  the  lady  thought : 
'  Is  this  a  dream  mine  eyes  have  seen, 
This  creature,  by  our  laws  unclean  ? 
O,  may  the  Gods  keep  Rama,  still, 
And  Lakshman,  and  my  sire,  from  ill! 
It  is  no  dream':  1  have  not  slept, 
But,  trouble-worn,  have  watched  and  wef 
Afar  from  that  dear  lord  of  mine 
For  whom  in  ceaseless  woe  I  pine, 
No  art  may  soothe  my  wild  distress 
Or  lull  me  to  forgetf  ulness. 
I  see  but  him  :  my  lips  can  frame 
No  syllable  but  R&ma's  name. 
Each  sight  I  see,  each  sound  I  hear, 
Brings  Rama  to  mine  eye  or  ear. 
The  wish  was  in  my  heart,  anc^hence 
The  sweet  illusion  mocked  my  sense. 
'Twas  but  a  phantom  of  the  mind, 
And  yet  the  voice  was  soft  and  kind. 
Be  glory  to  the  Eternal  Sire,1 
Be  glory  to  the  Lord  of  Fire, 
The  mighty  Teacher  in  the  skies,  * 
And  Indra  with  his  thousand  eyes, 
And  may  they  grant  the  truth  to  be 
E'en  as  the  words  that  startled  me.' 


an  [ordinary]  man,  alluded  to  in  the 
second  passage,  may  perhaps  be  understood 
not  a  language  in  which  words  different 
from  Sanskrit  were  used,  but  the  employ- 
ment of  formal  and  elaborate  diction/ 
Sanskrit  Texts,  Part  II,  p.  166. 


1  Svayambhu,  the  Self -existent,  Brahm 

2  Vrihaspati  or  Vachaspati,  the  Lord 
Speech  and  preceptor  of  the  Gods. 


Canto  XXXIV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


413 


CANTO  XXXIII. 


TUB  COLLOQUY. 

Down  from  the  tree  Hanuman  came 
And  humbly  stood  before  the  dame. 
Then  joining  reverent  palm  to  palm 
Addressed  her  thus  witn  words  of  balm  : 
'  Why  should  the  tears  of  sorrow  rise, 
Sweet  lady,  to  those  lovely  eyes, 
As  when  the  wind-swept  river  floods 
Two  half  expanded  lotus  buds  ? 
Who  art  thou,  O  most  fair  of  face  ? 
Of  Asur,1  or  celestial  race  ? 
Did  Naga  mother  give  th.ee  birth  ? 
For  sure  thou  art  no  child  of  earth. 
Do  Rudras55  claim  that  heavenly  form  ? 
Or  the  swift  Gods3  who  ride  the  storm  ? 
Or  art  thou  Rohini*  the  blest, 
That  star  more  lovely  than  the  rest,-*- 
Ref  t  from  the  Moon  thou  lovest  well 
And  doomed  a  while  on  earth  to  dwell  ? 
Or  canst  thou,  fairest  wonder,  be 
The  starry  queen  Arundhati,5 
Fled  in  thy  wrath  or  jealous  pride 
From  her  dear  lord  Vasishtha's  side  ? 
Who  is  the  husband,  father,  son 
Or  brother,  O  thou  loveliest  one, 
Gone  from  this  world  in  heaven  to  dwell, 
For  whom  those  eyes  with  weeping  swell? 
Yet,  by  the  tears  those  sweet  eyes  shed, 
Yet,  by  the  earth  that  bears  thy  tread,6 
By  calling  on  a  monarch's  name, 
No  Goddess  but  a  royal  dame. 
Art  thou  the  queen,  fair  lady,  say, 
Whom  Ravan  stole  and  bore  away? 
Yea,  by  that  agony  of  woe, 
That  form  unrivalled  here  below, 
That  votive  garb,  thou  art,  I  ween, 
King  Janak's  child  and  Rama's  queen.' 


1  The  Asurs  were  the  fierce  enemies  of 
the  Gods. 

2  The  Rudras  are  manifestations  of  $i  va. 

3  The  Maruts  or  Storm  Gods. 

4  Rohini  is  an   asterism  personified  as 
the  daughter  of  Daksha  and  the  favourite 
wife  of   the  Moon.  The  chief  star  in  the 
constellation  is  Aldebaran. 

5  Arundhati  was  the  wife  of  the  great 
sage  Vasishtha.  and  regarded  as  the  pab- 
tern  of  conj  u'gal  excellence.  She  was  raised 
to  the  heavens  as  one  of  the  Pleiades. 

6  The  Gods  do  not  shed  tears;  nor  do 
they  touch  the  ground  when  they  walk 
or  stand.  Similarly  Milton's  angels  mar- 
ched above  the  ground  and  "  the  passive 
air  upbore  their  nimble  tread." 

Virgil's  'vera  incessu  patuit  dea'  may 
refer  to  the  same  belief. 


Hope  at  the  name  of  Rama  woke, 
And  thus  the  gentle  lady  spoke  : 
'  I  am  that  Sita  wooed  and  won 
By  Dasaratha's  royal  son, 
The  noblest  of  Ikshvaku's  line  ; 
And  every  earthly  joy  was  mine. 
But  Rama  left  his  royal  home 
In  Dan  lak's  tangled  wilds  to  roam, 
Where*  with  Sumitra's  son  and  me, 
He  lived  a  saintly  devotee. 
The  giant  Ravan  came  with  guile 
And  bore  me  thence  to  Lanka's  isle. 
Some  respite  yet  the  fiend  allows, 
Two  months  of  life,  to  Rama's  spouse. 
Two  moons  of  hopeless  woe  remain. 
And  then  the  captive  will  be  slain.' 

CANTO  XXXIV. 
HANUMAN'S   SPEECH. 

Thus  spoke  the  dame  in  mournful  mood, 
And  Hanuman  his  speech  renewed : 
1  O  lady,  by  thy  lord  s  decree 
I  come  a  messenger  to  thee. 
Thy  lord  is  safe  with  steadfast  friends, 
And  greeting  to  his  queen  he  sends, 
And  Lakshman,  ever  faithful  bows 
His  reverent  head  to  Rama's  spouse.' 

Through  all  her  frame  the  rapture  ran, 
As  thus  again  the  dame  began  : 
'  Now  verily  the  truth  I  know 
Of  the  wise  saw  of  long  ago  : 
'  Once  only  in  a  hundred  years 
True  joy  to  living  man  appears.' 

He  marked  her  rapture-beaming  hue, 
And  nearer  to  the  lady  drew. 
But  at  each  onward  step  he  took 
Suspicious  fear  her  spirit  shook. 
'  Alas,  Alas,'  she  cried  in  fear, 
'  False  is  the  tale  I  joyed  to  hear. 
'  Tis  Ravan,  'tis  the  fiend,  who  tries 
To  mock  me  with  a  new  disguise. 
If  thou,  to  wring  my  woman's  heart, 
Hast  changed  thy  shape  by  magic  art, 
And  wouldst  a  helpless  dame  beguile, 
The  wicked  deed  is  doubly  vile. 
But  no  :  that  fiend  thou  canst  not  be: 
Such  joy  I  had  from  seeing  thee. 
But  if  my  fancy  does  not  err, 
And  thou  art  Rama's  messenger, 
The  glories  of  my  lord  repeat: 
For  to  these  ears'such  words  are  sweet.' 

The  Vanar  knew  the  lady's  thought,1 
And  gave  the  answer  fondly  sought : 


1  That  a  friend  of  Rama  would  praise 
him  as  he  sh  :>uld  be  praised,  and  that  if 
the  stranger  were  Riivan  in  disguise  he 
would  avoid  the  subject. 


414 


RA MAYAN. 


•  Bright  as  the  sun  that  lights  the  sky, 
Dear  as  the  Moon  to  every  eye. 
He  scatters  blessings  o'er  the  land 
Like  bounties  from  VaisravanV  hand. 
Like  Vishnu  strong  and  unsubdued, 
Unmatched  in  might  and  fortitude. 
Wise,  truthful  as  the  Lord  of  Speech, 
With  gentle  words  he  welcomes  each. 
Of  noblest  mould  and  form  is  he, 
Like  love's  incarnate  deity. 
He  quells  the  fury  of  the  foe, 
And  strikes  when  justice  prompts  the  blow. 
Safe  in  the  shadow  of  iris  arm 
The  World  is  kept  from  scathe  and  harm. 
2sTow  soon  shall  Ravan  rue  his  theft, 
And  fall,  of  realm  and  life  bereft. 
For  Kama's  wrathful  hand  shall  wing 
His  shafts  against  the  giant  king. 
The  day,  O  Maithil  Queen*  is  near 
When  he  and  Lakshman  will  be  here, 
And  by  their  side  Sugriva  lead 
His  countless  hosts  of  Vanar  breed. 
JSugriva's  servant,  I,  by  name 
Hanuman,  by  his  order  came. 
With  desperate  leap  I  crossed  the  sea 
To  Lanka's  isle  in  search  of  thee, 
No  traitor,  gentle  dame,  am  I : 
Upon  my  word  and  faith  rely.' 

CANTO  XXXV. 
HANUMAN'S  SPEECH, 

With  joyous  heart  she  heard  him  tell 
Of  the  great  lord  she  loved  so  well, 
And  in  sweet  accents,  soft  and  low, 
Spoke,  half  forgetfool  of  her  woe  : 
'  How  didst  thou  stand  by  Rama's  side  ? 
How  came  my  lord  and  thou  allied  ? 
How  met  the  people  of  the  wood 
With  men  on  terms  of  brotherhood  ? 
Declare  each  grace  and  regal  sign 
That  decks  the  lords  of  liaghu's  line. 
Each  circumstance  and  look  relate  : 
Tell  lama's  form  and  speech,  and  gait.' 

'Thy  fear  and  doubt,' he  cried. 'dispelled, 
Hear,  lady,  what  mine  eyes  beheld. 
Hear  the  imperial  signs  that  grace 
The  glory  of  Ikshvaku's  race. 
With  moon -bright  face  and  lotus  eyes, 
Most  beautiful  and  good  and  wise, 
With  sun-like  glory  round  his  head, 
Long-suffering  as  the  earth  we  tread, 
He  from  all  foes  his  realm  defends, 
Yea,  o'er  the  world  his  care  extends. 
He  follows  right  in  all  his  ways, 
And  ne'er  from  royal  duty  strays. 


1  Kuvera  the  God  of  Gold, 


He  knows  the  lore  that  strength  ens  kings; 
His  heart  to  truth  and  honour  clings, 
Each  grace  and  gift  of  form  and  rrind 
Adorns  that  prince  of  human  kind  ; 
And  virtues  like  his  own  endue 
His  brother  ever  firm  and  true, 
O'er  all  the  land  they  roamed  distaught, 
And  thee  with  vain  endeavour  sought, 
Until  at  length  their  wandering  feet 
Trod  wearily  our  wild  retreat. 
Our  banished  king  Sugriva  spied 
The  princes  from  the  mountain  side. 
By  his  command  I  sought  the  pair 
And  led  them  to  our  monarch  there. 
Thus  Rama  and  Sugriva  met, 
And  joined  the  bonds  that  knit  them  yet, 
When  each  besought  the  other's  aid, 
And  friendship  and  alliance  made. 
An  arrow  launched  from  Rama's  bow 
Laid  Bali  dead,  Sugriva's  foe. 
Then  by  commandment  of  our  lord 
The  Vanar  hosts  each  land  explored. 
We  reached  the  coast  :  I  crossed  the  sea* 
And  found  my  way  at  length  to  thee.'1 

CANTO  XXXVL 
KAMA'S  RING. 

« Receive,'  he  dried, '  this  precious  ring,* 
Sure  token  from  thy  lord  the  king : 
The  golden  ring  he  wont  to  wear  :  ? 
See,  Rama's  name  engraven  there. 
Then,  as  she  took  the  ring  he  showed, 
The  tears  that  spring  of  rapture  flowed. 
S'ie  seejned  to  touch  the  hand  that  sent 
The  dearly  valued  ornament* 
And  with 'her  heart  again  at  ease, 
Replied  in  gentle  words  like  these  : 
'  O  thou,  whose  soul  no  fears  deter, 
Wise,  brave,  and  faithful  messenger  ! 
And  hast  thou  dared,  o'er  wave  and  foam, 
To  seek  me  in  the  giants'  home  ? 
Tn  thee,  true  messenger.  I  find 
The  noblest  of  thy  woodland  kind, 
Who  couldst.  unmoved  by  terror,  brook 
On  Ravan,  king  of  fiends,  to  look. 


1  Sita  of  course  knows  nothing  of  \vhat 
has  happened  to  Rama  since  the  time 
when  she  was  carried  away  by  Ravan, 
The  poet  therefore  thinks  it  necessarv  to 
repeat  the  whole  story  of  the  meeting 
between  Rama  and  Sugriva,  the  defeat  of 
Bali,  and  subsequent  events.  I  give  the 
briefest  possible  outline  of  the  story. 

*  DB  GUBERNATIS  thinks  that  this  ring 
which  the  Sun  Rama  sends  to  the  Dawn 
Sita  is  a  symbol  of  the  sun's  disc. 


Canto  XXXV I L 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


415 


Now  may  we  commune  here  as  friends, 
For  he  whom  royal  Rama  sends 
Must  needs  be  one  in  danger  tried, 
A  valiant,  wise,  and  faithful  guide. 
Say,  is  it  well  with  R4ma  still  ? 
Lives  Lakshman  yet  untouched  by  ill  ? 
Then  why  should  Rama's  hand  be  slow 
To  free  his  consort  from  her  woe  ? 
Why  spare  to  burn,  in  search  of  me, 
The  land  encircled  by  the  sea  ? 
Can  Bharat  send  no  army  out 
With  banners,  cars  and  battle  shout  ? 
Cannot  thy  king  Sugrlva  lend 
His  legions  to  assist  his  friend  ? ' 

His  hands  upon  his  head  he  laid 
And  thus  again  his  answer  made  : 
'  Not  yet  has  Rama  learnt  where  lies 
His  lady  of  the  lotus  eyes, 
Or  he  like  Indra  from  the  sky 
To  Satfhi'*1  aid,  to  thee  would  fly. 
Soon  will  he  hear  the  tale,  and  then, 
Roused  to  revenge,  the  lord  of  men 
Will  to  the  giants'  island  lead 
Fierce  myriads  of  the  woodland  breed, 
Bridging  his  conquering  way,  and  make 
The  town  a  ruin  for  thy  sake. 
Believe  my  words,  sweet  dame  ;  I  swear 
By  roots  and  fruit,  my  woodland  fare, 
By  Meru's  peak  and  Vindhya's  chain, 
And  Mandar  of  the  Milky  Main, 
Soon  shalt  thou  see  thy  lord,  though  now 
He  waits  upon  Prasra van's5*  browf 
Come  glorious  as  the  breaking  morn, 
Like  Indra  on  Airayat*  borne. 
For  thee  he  looks  with  longing  eyes  ; 
The  wood  his  scanty  food  supplies. 
For  thee  his  brow  is  pale  and  worn, 
For  thee  are  meat  and  wine  forsworn. 
Thine  image  in  his  heart  he  keeps, 
For  thee  by  night  he  wakes  and  weeps* 
Or  if  perchance  his  eyes  he  close 
And  win  brief  respite  from  his  woes, 
E'en  then  the  name  of  Sita  slips 
In  anguish  from  his  murmuring  lips, 
If  lovely  flowers  or  fruit  he  sees, 
Which  women  love,  upon  the  trees, 
To  thee,  to  thee  his  fancy  flies. 
And  '  Sita  !  0  my  love  ! '  he  cries.' 


1  Sachi  is  the  loved  and  lovely  wife  of 
Indra,  and  she  is  taken  as  the   type  of  a 
woman  protected  by  a  jealous  and  all- 
powerful  husband. 

2  The  mountain  near  Kishkindha. 
3Airavat  is  the  mighty  elephant   on 

which  Indra  delights  to  ride. 


CANTO  XXXVII. 


SFTA'S  SPEECH, 

1  Thou  bringest  me,'  she  cried  again, 
*  A  mingled  draught  of  bliss  and  pain ; 
Bliss,  that  he  wears  me  in  his  heart, 
Pain,  that  he  wakes  and  weeps  apart, 
O,  see  how  Fate  is  king  of  all, 
Now  lifts  us  high,  now  bids  us  fall, 
Arid  leads  a  captive  bound  with  cord 
The  meanest  slave,  the  proudest  lord, 
Thus  even  now  Fate's  stern  decree 
Has  struck  with  grief  my  lord  and  me. 
Say,  how  shall  Rama  reach  the  shore 
Of  sorravv's  waves  that  rise  and  roar, 
A  shipwrecked  sailor,  wellnigh  droWnect 
In  the  wild  sea  that  foams  around  ? 
When  will  he  smite  the  demon  down* 
Lay  low  in  dust  the  giants'  town, 
And,  glorious  from  his  foes'  defeat, 
His  wife,  his  long-lost  Sita,  meet  ? 
Go,  bid  him  speed  to  smite  his  foes 
Before  the  year  shall  reach  its  close. 
Ten  months  are  fled:  but  two  remain, 
Then  Ravan's  captive  must  be  slain,, 
Oft  has  Vibhishan,1  just  and  wise, 
Besought  him  to  restore  his  prize. 
But  deaf  is  Ravan's  senseless  ear  : 
His  brother's  rede* he  will  not  hear. 
Vibhishan"s  daughter*  loves  me  well  £ 
From  her  I  learnt  the  tale  I  tell. 
Avindhya*  prudent,  just,  and  old, 
The  giant's  fall  has  oft  foretold  ; 
But  Fate  impels  him  to  despise 
His  word  on  whom  he  most  relies. 
In  Eama's  love  I  rest  secure, 
For  my  fond  heart  is  true  and  purer, 
And  him,  my  noblest  lord,  I  deem 
[n  valour,  power,  and  might  supreme/ 

As  from  her  eyes  the  waters  ran, 
The  Vanar  chief  again  began  : 

Tea,  Rama,  when  he  hears  my  tale, 
Will  with  our  hosts  these  walls  assail* 
)r  I  myself,  O  Queen,  this  day 
Will  bear  thee  from  the  fiend  away, 
Will  lift  thee  up,  and  take  thee  hence? 
Po  him  thy  refuge  and  defence  ; 
Vill  take  thee  in  my  arms,  and  flee 
^o  Rarna  far  beyond  the  sea  ; 
Will  place  thee  on  Prasravar*  hill 
Where  llaghu's  son  is  waiting  still/ 


1  Vibhishan  is  the  wicked  Ravan's  good 
mother. 

2  Her  name  is  Kala,  or  in  the  Bengal 
ecension  Nanda. 

3  One  of  Ravan's  chief  councillors. 


416 


TEE  RAMA  Y AN. 


Book  V. 


'How  canst  thou  bear  me  hence?'  she 

cried, 

'The  way  is  long,  the  sea  is  wide. 
To  bear  iny  very  weight  would  be 
A  task  too  hard  for  one  like  thee.' l 

Swift  rose  before  her  startled  eyes 
The  Vanar  in  his  native  size, 
Like  Mandar's  hill  or  Merirs  height, 
Encircled  with  a  blaze  of  light. 
'  O  come,'  he  cried,  'thy  fears  dispel, 
Nor  doubt  that  I  will  bear  thee  well. 
Come,  in  my  strength  and  care  confide, 
And  sit  in  joy  by  Rama's  side.' 

Again  she  spake  :  *  I  know  thee  now, 
Brave,  resolute,  and  strong  art  thou  ; 
In  glory  like  the  Lord  of  Fire 
With  storm -swift  feet  which  naught  may 

tire 

But  yet  with  thee  I  may  not  fly  : 
For,  borne  so  swiftly  through  the  sky, 
Mine  eyes  would  soon  grow  faint  and  dim, 
My  dizzy  brain  would  reel  and  swim, 
My  yielding  arms  relax  their  hold, 
And  I  in  terror  uncontrolled 
Should  fall  into  the  raging  sea 
Where  hungry  sharks  would  feed  on  me. 
Nor  can  I  touch,  of  free  accord, 
The  limbs  of  any  save  my  lord. 
If,  by  the  giant  forced  away, 
In  his  enfolding  arms  I  lay, 
Not  mine,  0  Vanar.  was  the  blame  ; 
What  could  I  do,  a  helpless  dame  ? 
Go,  to  my  lord  my  message  bear, 
And  bid  him  end  my  long  despair.' 

CANTO  XXXVIII. 


SITA'S  GEM. 

Again  the  Vanar  chief  replied, 
With  her  wise  answer  satisfied: 
'Well  hast  thou  said:  thou  canst  not 

brave 

The  rushing  wind,  the  roaring  wave. 
Thy  woman's  heart  would  sink  with  fear 
Before  the  ocean  shore  were  near. 
And  for  thy  dread  lest  limb  of  thine 
Should  for  a  while  be  touched  by  mine, 
The  modest  fear  is  worthy  one 
Whose  cherished  lord  is  llaghu's  son. 
Yet  when  I  sought  to  bear  thee  hence 
I  spoke  the  words  of  innocence, 
Impelled  to  set  the  captive  free 
By  friendship  for  thy  lord  and  thee. 
But  if  with  me  thou  wilt  not  try 
The  passage  of  the  windy  sky, 


1  Hanuman  when  he  entered  the  city 
had  in  order  to  escape  observation  con- 
densed himself  to  the  size  of  a  cat. 


Give  me  a  gem  that  T  may  show, 
Some  token  which  thy  lord  may  know.' 

Again  the  Maithil  lady  spoke, 
While  tears  and  sobs  her  utterance  broke : 
t  The  surest  of  all  signs  is  this, 
To  tell  the  tale  of  vanished  bliss. 
Thus  in  my  name  to  Rama  speak  : 
'  Remember  Chitrakuta's  peak. 
And  the  green  margin  of  the  rill1 
That  flows  beside  that  pleasant  hill, 
Where  thou  and  I  together  strayed 
Delighting  in  the  tangled  shade. 
There  on  the  grass  I  sat  with  thee 
And  laid  my  head  upon  thy  knee. 
There  came  a  greedy  crow  and  pecked 
The  meat  I  waitd  to  protect. 
And,  heedless  of  the  clods  I  threw, 
About  my  head  in  circles  Hew, 
Until  by  darling  hunger  pressed 
He  boldly  pecked  me  on  the  breast. 
I  ran  to  thee  in  rage  and  grief 
And  praved  for  vengeance  on  the  thief. 
Then  Earn  a2  from  his  slumber  rose 
And  smiled  with  pity  at  my  woes. 
Upon  my  bleeding  breast  he  saw 
The  scratches  made  by  beak  and  claw. 
He  laid  an  arrow  on  his  bow. 
And  launched  it  at  the  shameless  crow. 
That  shaft,  with  magic  power  endued, 
The  bird,  where'er  he  flew,  pursued, 
'1  ill  back  to  Raghu's  son  he  fled 
And  bent  at  Rama's  feet  his  head.3 
Couldst  thou  for  me  with  anger  stirred 
Launch  that  dire  shaft  upon  a  bird, 
And  yet  canst  pardon  him  who  stole 
The  darling  of  thy  heart  and  soul? 
Rise  up,  O  bravest  of  the  brave. 
And  come  in  all  thy  might  to  save. 
Come  with  the  thunders  of  thy  bow, 
And  smite  to  earth  the  Rakshas  foe.' 

She  ceased  ;  and  from  her  glorious  hai] 
She,  took  a  gem  that  sparkled  there : 
A  token  which  her  husband's  eyes 
With  eager  love  would  recognize. 
His  head  the  Vanar  envoy  bent 
In  low  obeisance  reverent. 
And  on  his  finger  bound  the  gem 
She  loosened  from  her  diadem. 

i  The  brook  Mandakini,  not  far  fron 
Chitrakuta  where  Rama  sojourned  fo 
a  time. 

*  The  poet  here  changes  from  the  seconc 
person  to  the  third. 

3  The  whole  long  story  is  repeated  wit! 
some  slight  variations  and  additions  fron 
Book  IL  Canto  XCVI.  I  give  here  onl: 
the  outline. 


Canto  XLII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


417 


CANTO  XL!.1 


THE  RUIN  OF  THE  GROVE. 

Dismissed  with  every  honour  due 
The  Vanar  from  the  spot  withdrew. 
Then  joyous  thought  the  Wind-God's  son: 
*  The  mighty  task  is  wellnigh  done. 
The  three  expedients  I  must  leave  ; 
The  fourth  alone  can  I  achieve. * 
These  dwellers  in  the  giants'  isle 
No  arts  of  mine  can  reconcile. 
I  cannot  bribe  :  I  cannot  sow 
Dissension  mid  the  Rakshas  foe. 
Arts,  gifts,  address,  these  iiends  despise; 
But  force  shall  yet  their  king  chastise. 
Perchance  he  may  relent  when  all 
The  bravest  of  his  chieftains  fall. 
This  lovely  grove  will  I  destroy, 
The  cruel  Ravan's  pride  and  joy. 
The  garden  where  he  takes  his  ease 
Mid  climbing  plants  and  flowery  trees 
That  lift  their  proud  tops  to  the  skies, 
Dear  to  the  tyrant  as  his  eyes. 
Then  will  he  rouse  in  wrath,  and  lead 
His  legions  with  the  car  and  steed 
And  elephants  in  long  array, 
And  seek  me  thirsty  for  the  fray. 
The  Rakshas  legions  will  I  meet, 
And  all  his  bravest  host  defeat ; 
Then,  glorious  from  the  bloody  plain, 
Turn  to  my  lord  the  king  again,' 

Then  every  lovely  tree  that  bore 
Fair  blossoms,  from  the  soil  he  tore, 
Till  each  green  bough  that  lent  its  shade 
To  singing  birds  on  earth  was  laid. 
The  wilderness  he  left  a  waste, 
The  fountains  shattered  and  defaced  : 
CVerthrew  and  levelled  with  the  ground 
Each  shady  seat  and  pleasure-mound. 
Each  arbour  clad  with  climbing  bloom, 
Each  grotto,  cell,  and  picture  room, 
Each  lawn  by  beast  and  bird  enjoyed, 
Each  walk  and  terrace  was  destroyed. 


1  I  omit  two  Cantos  of  dialogue.  Sita 
tells  Hanuman  again  to  convey  her  mes- 
sage to  Rama  and  bid  him  hasten  to  rescue 
her.  Hanuman  replies  as  before  that 
there  is  no  one  on  earth  equal  to  Rama, 
who  will  soon  come  and  destroy  Ravan. 
There  is  not  a  new  idea  in  the  two  Cantos: 
all  is  reiteration. 

*  The  expedients  to  vanquish  an  enemy 
or  to  make  him  come  to  terms  are  said  to 
be  four  :  conciliation,  gifts,  disunion,  and 
force  or  punishment.  Hanuman  considers 
it  useless  to  employ  the  first  three  and 
resolves  to  punish  Ravan  by  destroying 
his  pleasure-grounds. 


And  all  the  place  that  was  so  fair 
Was  left  a  ruin  wild  and  bare, 
As  if  the  fury  of  the  blast 
Or  raging  fire  had  o'er  it  passed. 


CANTO  XLII. 


THE  GIANTS  ROUSED. 

The  cries  of  startled  birds,  the  sound 
Of  tall  trees  crashing  to  the  ground, 
Struck  with  amaze  each  giant's  ear, 
And  filled  the  isle  with  sudden  fear. 
Then,  wakened  by  the  crash  and  cries, 
i  he  fierce  shefiends  unclosed  their  eyes, 
And  saw  the  Vanar  where  he  stood 
A.mid  the  devastated  wood. 
The  more  to  scare  them  with  the  view 
To  size  immense  the  Vanar  grew  ; 
And  straight  the  Rakshas  warders  cried 
Janak's  daughter  terrified  : 
Whose  envoy,  whence,  and  who  is  he, 
Why  hag  he  come  to  talk  with  thee  ? 
Speak,  lady  of  the  lovely  eyes, 
And  let  not  fear  thy  joy  disguise.' 

Then  thus  replied  the  Maithil  dame 
Of  noble  soul  and  perfect  frame  : 
'  Can  I  discern,  with  scanty  skill, 
These  fiends  who  change  their  forms  at 

will? 

1  Tis  yours  to  say  :  your  kin  you  meet ; 
A  serpent  knows  a  serpent's  feet. 

I  weet  not  who  he  is  :  the  sight 
Has  filled  my  spirit  with  affright.' 
Some  pressed  round  Sita  in  a  ring  ; 
Some  bore  the  story  to  their  king  : 
(  A  mighty  creature  of  our  race, 
In  monkey  form,  has  reached  the  place. 
He  came  within  the  grove,'  they  cried, 
'  He  stood  and  talked  by  Sita/s  side, 
He  comes  from  Indra's  court  to  her, 
Or  is  Kuvera's  messenger  ; 
Or  Rama  sent  the  spy  to  seek 
His  consort,  and  her  wrongs  to  wreak. 
His  crushing  arm,  his  trampling  feet 
Have   marred    and    spoiled    that    dear 

retreat, 

And  all  the  pleasant  place  which  thou 
So  lovest  is  a  ruin  now. 
The  tree  where  Sita  sat  alone 
Is  spared  where  all  are  overthrown. 
Perchance  he  saved  the  darnefrom  harm: 
Perchance  the  toil  had  numbed  his  arm.' 

Then  flashed  the  giant's  eye  with  fire 
Like  that  which  lights  the  funeral  pyre. 
He  bade  his  bravest  Kiukars  *  speed 

1  Kinkar  means  the  special  servant  of 
a  sovereign,  who  receives  his  orders  im- 


418 


THE 


V. 


And  to  his  feet  the  spoiler  lead. 
Forth  from  the  palace,  at  his  hest, 
Twice  forty  thousand  warriors  pressed, 
Burning  for  battle,  strong  and  tierce, 
With  clubs  to  crush  and  swords  to  pierce, 
(They  saw  Hanuman  near  a  porch, 
And,  thick  as  moths  around  a  torch, 
Rushed  on  the  foe  with  wild  attacks 
Of  mace  and  club  and  battle-axe; 
As  round  him  pressed  the  &akshas  crowd, 
The  wondrous  monkey  roared  aloud, 
That  birds  fell  headlong  from  the  sky  : 
Then  spake  he  with  a  mighty  cry  : 
*  Long  life  to  Dasaratha's  heir, 
And  Lakshman,  ever-glorious  pair  1 
Long  life  to  him  who  rules  our  race, 
Preserved  by  noblest  Rama's  grace  ! 
I  am  the  slave  of  Kosal's  king,1 
Whose  wondrous  deeds  the  minstrels  sing. 
Hanuman  I,  the  Wind-God's  seed  : 
Beneath  this  arm  the  f  oemen  bleed. 
I  fear  not,  unapproached  in  might, 
A  thousand  Ratans  ranged  for  fight^ 
Although  in  furious  hands  they  rear 
The  hill  and  tree  for  sword  and  spear, 
I  will,  before  the  giants'  eyes, 
Their  city  and  their  king  chastise  ; 
And,  haying  communed  with  the  dame, 
I) e part  in  triumph  as  I  came.' 
At  that  terrific  roar  and  yell 
^The  heart  of  every  giant  fell. 
But  still  their  king's  command  they  feared, 
And  pressed  around  with  arms  upreared. 
Beside  the  porch  a  club  was  laid  : 
The  Vanaf  caught  it  up,  and  swayed 
The  weapon  roUnd  his  head,  and  slew 
The  foremost  of  the  Rakshas  crew. 
Thus  Indra  vanquished,  thousand-eyed* 
The  Daityas  who  the  Gods  defied. 
Then  on  the  porch  Hanuman  sprang, 
And  loud  his  shout  of  triumph  rang. 
The  giants  looked  upon  the  dead, 
And  turning  to  their  monarch  fled. 
And  Ravan  with  his  spirit  wrought 
To  frenzy  'by  the  tale  they  brought, 
Urged  to  the  fight  Prahasta's  son, 
Of  all  his  chiefs  the  mightiest  one. 

mediately  from  his  master.  The  Bengal 
recension  gives  these  Rakskasesan  epithet 
which  the  Commentator  explains  '  as 
generated  in  the  mind  of  Brahma.' 

1  Rama  dejure  King  of  Kosalof  which 
Ayodhya,  was  the  capital, 


CANTO  XLIII. 


THE  RUIN  OF  THE  TEMPLE. 

The  Wind-God's  son  a  temple1  scaled 
Which,  by  his  fury  unassailed, 
High  as  the  hill  of  Meru,  stood 
Amid  the  ruins  of  the  wood  ; 
And  in  his  fury  thundered  out 
Again  his  haughty  battle-shout : 
'  I  am  the  slave  of  Kosal's  king 
Whose  wondrous  deeds  the  minstrels  sing/ 
Forth  hurried,  by  that  shout  alarmed, 
The  warders  of  the  temple  armed 
With  every  weapon  haste  supplied, 
And  closed  him  in  on  every  side, 
With  bands  that  strove  to  pierce  and  strike 
With  shaft'and  axe  and  club  and  pike. 
Then  from  its  base  the  Vanar  tore 
A  pillar  with  the  weight  it  bore. 
Against  the  wall  the  mass  he  dashed, 
And  forth  the  flames  in  answer  flashed/ 
That  wildly  ran  o'er  roofs  and  Wall 
In  hungry  rage  consuming  all. 
He  whirled  the  pillar  round  his  head 
And  struck  a  hundred  giants  dead. 
Then  high  upheld  on  air  he  rose 
And  called  in  thunder  to  his  foes: 
4  A  thousand  Vanar  chiefs  like  me 
Roam  at  their  will  o'er  land  and  sea, 
Terrific  might  we  all  possess  : 
Our  stormy  speed  is  limitless. 
And  all,  unconquered  in  the  fray, 
Our  king  Sugriva's  word  obey. 
Backed  by  his  bravest  myriads,  he 
Our  warrior  lord  will  cross  the  sea. 
Then  Lanka's  lofty  towers,  and  all 
Your  hosts  and  Ravan's  self  shall  fall. 
None  shall  be  left  unslaugntered  ;  none 
Who  braves  the  wrath  of  Raghu'sson.' 


CANTO  XLIV. 


JAMBUMALIS  DEATH. 

Then  Jambumali,  pride  and  boast 
For  valour  of  the  Rakshas  host, 
Prahasta's  son  supremely  brave, 
Obeyed  the  hest  that  Ravan  gave: 
Fierce  warrior  with  terrific  teeth, 
With  saguine  robes  and  brilliant  wreath. 
A  bow  like  Indra's  own,2  and  store 


1  Cliaityaprdsdda  is  explained  by  the 
Commentator  as  the  place  where  the  Gods 

of    the    R&kshases  were  kept.    Gorresio 
translates  it  by  '  un  grande  edificio.' 

2  The  bow  of  Indra  is  the  rainbow. 


Canto  XI VI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


419 


Of  glittering  shafts  the  chieftain  bore. 
And  ever  as  the  string  he  tried 
The  weapon  with  a  roar  replied, 
I^oud  as  the  crashing  thunder  sent 
By  him  who  rules  the  firmament. 
Soon  as  the  foernan  came  in  view 
Borne  on  a  car  which  asses  drew. 
The  Vanar  chieftain  mighty-voiced 
Shouted  in  triumph  and  rejoiced. 
Prahasta's  son  his  bow-string  drew, 
And  swift  the  winged  arrows  flew. 
One  in  the  face  the  Vanar  smote, 
Another  quivered  in  his  throat. 
Ten  from  the  deadly  weapon  sent 
His  brawny  arms  and  shoulders  rent. 
Then  as  he  felt  each  galling  shot 
The  Vanar's  rage  waxed  fiercely  hot. 
He  looked,  and  saw  a  mass  of  stone 
That  lay  before  his  feet  o'erthrown. 
The  mighty  block  he  raised  and  threw, 
And  crashing  through  the  air  it  flew. 
But  Jambumali  shunned  the  blow, 
And  rained  fresh  arrows  from  his  bow. 
The  Vanar's  limbs  were  red  with  gore  : 
A  Sal  tree  from  the  earth  he  tore, 
And,  ere  he  hurled  it  undismayed, 
Above  his  head  the  missile  swayed. 
But  shafts  f  rcm  Jaiubumali's  bow 
Cut  through  it  ere  his  hand  could  throw, 
And  thigh  and  arm  and  chest  and  side 
With  streams  of  rushing  blood  were  dyed. 
Still  unsubdued  though  wounded  oft 
The  shattered  trunk  lie  raised  aloft, 
And  down  with  well-directed  aim 
On  Jambumali's  chest  it  came. 
There  crushed  upon  the  trampled  grass 
He  lay  an  undistinguished  mass  ; 
The  foeman's  eye  no  more  could  see 
His  head  or  chest  or  arm  or  knee  ; 
And  bow  and  car  and  steeds1  and  store 
Of  glittering  shafts  were  seen  no  more. 

When  Jambumali's  death  he  heard, 
King  Ravan's  heart  with  rage  was  stirrecj, 
And  forth  his  general's  sons  he  sent, 
For  power  and  might  preeminent, 

CANTO  XLV. 


THE  SEVEN  DEFEATED. 

Forth  went  the  seven  in  brave  attire, 
In  glory  brilliant  as  the  tire, 
Impetuous  chiefs  with  massive  bows, 
Tjie  quellers  of  a  host  of  foes : 


1  We  were  told  a  few  lines  before  that 
the  chariot  of  Jambumali  was  drawn  by 
asses.  Here  horses  are  spoken  of.  The 
Commentator  notices  the  discrepancy  and 
says  that  by  horses  asses  are  meant, 


Trained  from  their  youth  in  martial  lore, 

And  masters  of  the  arms  they  bore  : 

Each  emulous  and  fiercely  bold. 

And  banners  wrought  with  glittering  gold 

Waved  o'er  their  chariots,  drawn  at  speed 

By  coursers  of  the  noblest  breed. 

On  through  the  ruins  of  the  grove 

At  Hanuman  they  fiercely  drove, 

And  from  the  ponderous  bows  they  strained 

A  shower  of  deadly  arrows  rained. 

Then  scarce  was  seen  the  Vanar's  form 

Enveloped  in  the  arrowy  storm. 

So  stands  half  veiled  the  Mountains'  King 

When  rainy  clouds  about  him  cling. 

By  nimble  turn,  by  rapid  bound 

He  shunned  the  shafts  that  rained  aroun^, 

Eluding,  as  in  air  he  rose, 

The  rushing  chariots  of  his  foes. 

The  mighty  Vanar  undismayed 

Amid  his  archer  foemen  played, 

As  plays  the  frolic  wind  on  high 

Mid  bow- armed1  clouds  that  fill  the  sky, 

He  raised  a  mighty  roar  and  yell 

That  fear  on  all  the  army  fell, 

And  then,  his  warrior  soul  aglow 

With  fury,  rushed  upon  the  foe, 

Some  with  his  open  hand  he  beat 

To  death,  and  trampled  with  his  feet  ; 

Some  with  fierce  nails  he  rent  arid  slew, 

And  others  vyith  his  fists  o'erthrew  ; 

Some  with  his  legs,  as  on  he  rushed, 

Some  with  his  bulky  chest  he  crushed  : 

While  some  struck  senseless  by  his  roar 

Dropped  on  the  ground  and  breathed  no 

more. 

The  remnant,  seized  with  sudden  dread, 
Turned  from  the  grove  and  wildly  fled. 
The  trampled  earth  was  thickly  strovvn 
With  steed  and  car  and  flag  o'erthrown, 
And  the  red  blood  in  rivers  flowed 
From  slaughtered  fiends  o'er  path  and  road. 


CANTO  XLVL 


THE  CAPTAINS. 

Mad  with  the  rage  of  injured  pride 
King  Ravan  summoned  to  his  side 
The  valiant  five  who  led  his  host. 
Supreme  in  war  and  honoured  most. 
•  Go  forth,'  he  cried,  '  with  car  and  steed, 
And  to  my  feet  this  monkey  lead. 
But  watch  each  chance  of  time  and  place 
To  seize  this  thing  of  silvan  race. 
For  from  his  wondrous  exploits  he 
No  monkey  of  the  woods  can  be, 

1  Armed  with  the  bow  of  Jndra,  the 
rainbow. 


420 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  V. 


But  some  new  kind  of  creature  meant 
To  work  us  woe,  by  Indra  sent. 
Gandharvas,  Nagas,  and  the  best 
Of  Yakshas  have  our  might  confessed. 
Have  we  not  challenged  and  subdued 
The  whole  celestial  multitude  ? 
Yet  will  you  not,  if  you  are  wise, 
A  chief  of  monkey  race  despise. 
For  I  myself  have  Bali  known, 
And  King  Sugriva's  power  I  own. 
But  none  of  all  their  woodland  throng 
Was  half  so  terrible  and  strong.' 
Obedient  to  the  words  he  spike 
They  hastened  forth  the  foe  to  take. 
Swift  were  the  cars  whereon  they  rode, 
And   bright  their   weapons    flashed  and 

glowed. 

They  saw:  they  charged  in  wild  career 
With  sword  and  mace  and  axe  and  spear. 
From  Durdhar's  bow  five  arrows  sped 
And  quivered  in  the  Vanar's  head. 
He  rose  and  roared  :  the  fearful  sound 
Made  all  the  region  echo  round. 
Then  from  above  his  weight  he  threw 
On  Durdhar's  car  that  near  him  drew. 
The  weight  that  came  with  lightning  speed 
Crushed  pole  and  axle,  car  and  steed. 
It  shattered  Durdhar's  head  and  neck, 
And  left  him  lifeless  mid  the  wreck. 
Yupaksha  saw  the  warrior  die, 
And  Virupaksha  heard  his  cry, 
And,  mad  for  vengeance  for  the  slain, 
They  charged  their  Vdnar  fee  again. 
He  rose  in  air  :  they  onward  pressed 
And  fiercely  smore  him  on  the  breast. 
In  vain  they  struck  his  iron  frame: 
With  eagle  swoop  to  earth  he  came, 
Tore  from  the  ground  a  tree  that  grew 
Beside  him.  and  the  demons  slew. 
Then  Bhasakarna  raised  his  spear, 
And  Praghas  wi'th  a  laugh  drew  near, 
And,  maddened  at  the  sight,  the  two 
Against  the  undaunted  Vanar  flew. 
As  from  his  wounds  the  torrents  flowed, 
Like  a  red  sun  the  Variar  showed. ^ 
He  turned,  a  mountain  peak  to  seize 
With  all  its  beasts  and  snakes  and  trees. 
He  hurled  it  on  the  pair  :  and  they 
Crushed,  overwhelmed,  beneath  it  lay. 


CANTO  XLVIL 


THE  DEATH  OF  AKSHA. 

But  Ravan,  as  his  fury  burned, 
His  eyes  oil  youthful  Aksha1  turned, 
Who  rose  impetuous  at  his  glance 
And  shouted  for  his  bow  and  lance. 


's  don. 


he 


He  rode  upon  a  glorious  car 
That  shot  the  light  of  gems  afar. 
His  pennon  waved  mid  glittering  gold 
And  bright  the  wheels  with  jewels  rolled, 
By  long  and  fierce  devotion  won 
That  car  was  splendid  as  the  sun. 
With  rows  of  various  weapons  stored  ; 
And  thought-swift  horses  whirled   their 

lord 

Racing  along  the  earth,  or  rose 
High  through  the  clouds   whene'er 

chose. 

Then  fierce  and  fearful  war  between 
The  Vanar  and  the  fiend  was  seen. 
The  Gods  and  Asurs  stood  amazed, 
And  on  the  wondrous  combat  gazed. 
A  cry  from  earth  rose  long  and  shrill, 
The  wind  was  hushed,  the  sun  grew  chill. 
The  thunder  bellowed  from  the  sky, 
And  troubled  ocean  roared  reply. 
Thrice  Aksha  strained  his  dreadful  bow, 
Thrice  smote  his  arrow  on  the  foe, 
And  with  full  streams  of  crimson  bled 
Three  gashes  in  the  Vanar's  head. 
Then  rose  Hanuman  in  the  ail- 
To  shun  the  shafts  no  life  could  bear. 
But  Aksha  in  his  car  pursued. 
And  from  on  high  the  fight  renewed 
With  storm  of  arrows,  thick  as  hail 
When  angry  clouds  some  hill  assail. 
Impatient  of  that  arrowy  shower 
The  Vanar  chief  put  forth  his  power, 
Again  above  his  chariot  rose 
And  smote  him  with  repeated  blows. 
Terrific  came  each  deadly  stroke  i 
Breast  neck  and  arm  and  back  he  broke  ; 
And  Aksha  fell  to  earth,  and  lay 
With  all  his  life-blood  drained  away. 

CANTO  XL VIII. 


HANUMAN  CAPTURED. 

To  Indrajit1  the  bold  and  brave 
The  giant  king  his  mandate  gave: 
'  O  trained  in  warlike  science,  best 
In  arms  of  all  our  mightiest, 
Whose  valour  in  the  conflict  shown 
To  Asurs  and  to  Gods  is  known, 
The  Kinkars  whom  I  sent  are  slain, 
And  Jambumali  and  his  train  ; 
The  lords  who  led  our  giant  bands 
Have  fallen  by  the  monkey's  hands  ; 
With  shattered  cars  the  ground  is  spread, 
And  Aksha  lies  amid  the  dead. 
Thou  art  my  best  and  bravest  :  go, 
Unmatched'in  power,  and  slay  the  foe.' 

1  'Conqueror    of    Indra,'    another    of 
Ra, van's  sons. 


Canto  L. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


421 


He  heard  the  best :  he  bent  his  head  ; 
A  thirst  for  battle  forth  lie  sped. 
Four  tigers  fierce,  of  tawny  hue, 
With  fearful  teeth,  his  chariot  drew. 

Hanuman  heard  his  strong  bow  clang, 
And  swiftly  from  the  earth  lie  sprang, 
While  weak  and  ineffective  fell 
The  archer's  shafts  though  pointed  well. 
The  Rakshas  saw  that  naught  might  kill 
The  wondrous  foe  who  mocked  his  skill, 
And  launched  a  magic  shaft  to  throw 
A  binding  spell  about  his  foe. 
Forth  flew  the  shaft  :  the  mystic  charm 
Stayed  his  swift  feet  and  numbed  his  arm. 
Through  all  his  frame  he  felt  the  spell, 
And  motionless  to  earth  he  fell. 
Nor  would  the  reverent  Vanar  loose 
The  bonds  that  bound  him  as  auoose. 
He  knew  that  Brahma's  self  had  charmed 
The  weapon  that  his  might  disarmed. 

They  saw  him  helpless  on  the  ground, 
And  all  the  giants  pressed  around, 
And  bonds  of  hemp  and  bark  were  cast 
About  his  limbs  to  hold  him  fast. 
They  drew  the  ropes  round  feet  and  wrists; 
They  beat  him  with  their  hands  and  fists. 
And  d ragged  him  as  they  strained  the  cord 
With  shouts  of  trumph  to  their  lord.1 

CANTO  XLIX. 

RAVAN. 

On  the  fierce  king  Hanuman  turned 
His  angry  eyes  that  glowed  and  burned. 
He  saw  him  decked  with  wealth  untold 
Of  diamond  and  pearl  and  gold, 
And  priceless  was  each  wondrous  gem 
That  sparkled  in  his  diadem. 
About  his  neck  rich  chains  were  twined, 
Th^  best  that  fancy  e'er  designed, 
And  a  fair  robe  with  pearls  bestrung 
Down  from  his  mighty  shoulders  hung. 
Ten  heads  he  reared,2  as  Mandar's  hill 


1  The  sluka  which  follows  is  probably 
an  interpolation,  as  it  is  inconsistent  with 
the  questioning  in  Canto  L.  : 

He  looked  on  Ravan  in  his  pride, 
And  boldly  to  the  monarch  cried  : 
'  I  came  an  envoy  to  this  place 
From  him  who  rules  the  Vanar  race. 
55  The  ten  heads  of  Ravan  have  pro- 
voked much  ridicule  from  European  cri- 
tics.     It    should    be    remembered    that 
Spenser  tells  us  of  "two  brethren  giants" 
"  The  one  of  which  had  two  heads,  the 
other  three  ; "  and   Milton  speaks  of  the 
"four-fo'd  visaged  Four,"  the  four  Cheru- 
bic shapes  each  of  whom  had  four  faces. 


Lifts  woody  peaks  which  tigers  fill. 
Bright  were  his  eyes,  and  bright,  beneath, 
The  flashes  of  his  awful  teeth. 
His  brawny  arms  of  wondrous  size 
Were  decked  with  rings  and  scented  dyes, 
His  hands  like  snakes  with  rive  long  heads 
Descending  from  their  mountain  beds. 
He  sat  upon  a  crystal  throne 
Inlaid  with  wealth  of  precious  stone, 
Whereon,  of  noblest  work,  was  set 
A  gold-embroidered  coverlet, 
Behind  the  monarch  stood  the  best 
Of  beauteous  women  gaily  dressed, 
And  each  her  giant  master  fanned, 
Or  waved  a  chourie  in  her  hand. 
Four  noble  courtiers1  wise  and  good 
In  counsel,  near  the  monarch  stood, 
As  the  four  oceans  ever  stand 
About  the  sea-encompassed  land. 
Still,  though  his  heart  with  rage  wasfired, 
The  Vanar  marvelled  and  admired  : 
'  O,  what  a  rare  and  wondrous  sight  I 
What  beauty,  majesty,  and  might ! 
All  regal  pomp  combines  to  grace 
This  ruler  of  the  Rakshas  race. 
He,  if  he  scorned  not  right  and  law, 
Might  guide  the  world  with  tempered  a  we; 
Yea.  Indra  and  the  Gods  on  high 
Might  on  his  saving  power  rely.' 


CANTO   L, 


PRAHASTA'S  QUESTIONS. 

Then  fierce  the  giant's  fury  blazed 
As  on  Hanuman's  form  he  gazed  ; 
And  shaken  by  each  wild  surmise 
He  spake  aloud  with  flashing  eyes  : 
'  Can  this  be  Nandi2  standing  here, 
The  mighty  one  whom  all  revere  ? 
Who  once  on  high  Kailasa's  hill 
Pronounced  the  curse  that  haunts  me  still  ? 
Or  is  the  woodland  creature  one 
Of  Asur  race,  or  Bali's3  son  ? 
The  wretch  with  searching  question  try : 
Learn  who  he  is,  and  whence  ;  and  why 
He  marred  the  glory  of  the  grove, 
And  with  niy  captains  fiercely  strove.' 

1  Durdhar,  or  as  the  Bengal  recension 
reads  Mahodara,  Prahasta,  Mahaparsva, 
and  Nikumbha. 

2  The  chief  attendant  of  $iva. 

3  Bali,  not  to  be  confounded  with  Bali 
the  Vanar,  was  a  celebrated   Daitya  or 
demon  who  had  usurped  the  empire  of 
the  three  worlds,  and  who   was  deprived 
of  two  thirds  of  his  dominions  by  Vishnu 
iu  the  Dwarf-incarnation, 


422 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  V 


Prahasta  heard  his  lord's  behest. 
And  thus  the  Vanar  chief  addressed  : 
'  O  monkey  stranger  be  consoled  : 
Fear  not,  and  let  thy  heart  be  bold. 
If  thou  by  Indra's  mandate  sent 
Thy  steps  to  Lanka's  isle  hast  bent, 
With  fearless  words  the  cause  explain, 
And  freedom  thou  shalt  soon  regain. 
Or  if  thou  comest  as  a  spy 
Despatched  by  Vishnu  in  the  sky, 
Or  sent  by  Yania,  or  the  Lord 
Of  Riches,  hast  our  town  explored; 
Proved  by  the  prowess  thou  hast  shown 
No  monkey  save  in  form  alone  ; 
Speak  boldly  all  the  truth,  and  be 
Released  from  bonds,  unharmed  and  free. 
But  falsehood  spoken  to  our  king 
Swift  punishment  of  death  will  bring.' 

He  ceased  :  the  Vanar  made  reply ; 
'•Not  Indra's  messenger  am  I, 
IS  or  came  I  hither  to  fulfil 
Kuvera's  hest  or  Vishnu's  will, 
1  stand  before  the  giaiits  here 
A  Vanar  e'en  as  I  appear. 
I  longed  to  see  the  king  :  'twas  hard 
£o  win  my  way  through  gate  and  guard. 
And  so  to  gain  rny  \yish  I  laid 
In  ruin  that  delightful  shade. 
No  fiend,  no  God  of  heavenly  kind 
With  bond  or  chain  these  limbs  may  bind. 
The  Eternal  Sire  himself  of  old 
Vouchsafed  the  boon  that  makes  me  bold, 
From  Brahma's  magic  shaft  released1 
I  kne>v  the  captor's  power  had  ceased. 
The  fancied  bonds  I  freely  brooked, 
And  thus  upon  the  king  have  Looked, 
My  way  to  Lanka  have  I  won, 
A  messenger  from  Raghu's  son,' 


CANTO  LI. 


H^NUMAN'S  REPLY. 

'My  king  Sugrlva  greets  thee  fair, 
And  bids  me  thus  his  rede  declare. 
Son  of  the  God  of  Wind,  by  name 
Hanuman,  to  this  isle  I  came. 
To  set  the  Maithi)  lady  free 
£  crossed  the  barrier  of  the  sea. 
I  roamed  in  search  of  her  and  found 
Her  weeping  in  that  lovely  ground. 
Thou  in  the  lore  of  duty  trained, 
Who  hast  by  stern  devotion  gained 
This  wondrous  wealth  and  power  and  fame 
Shouldst  fear  to  wrong  another's  dame. 


1  When  Hanuman  was  bound  with  cords, 
Indrajit  released  his  captive  from  the  spell 
Jaid  upon  him  by  the  magic  weapon. 


Hear  thou  my  counsel,  and  be  wise  : 

No  tiend,  no  dweller  in  the  skies 

Can  bear  the  shafts  by  Lakshman  shot, 

Or  Rama  when  his  wrath  is  hot.  * 

O  Giant  King,  repent  the  crime 

And  soothe  him  while  there  yet  is  time, 

Now  be  the  Maithil  queen  restored 

Uninjured  to  her  sorrowing  lord. 

Soon  wilt  thou  rue  thy  dire  mistake  : 

She  is  no  woman  but  a  snake. 

Whose  very  deadly  bite  will  be 

The  ruin  of  thy  house  and  thee. 

Thy  pride  has  led  thy  thoughts  astray, 

That  fancy  not  a  hand  may  slay 

The  monarch  of  the  giants,  screened 

From  mortal  blow  of  God  and  fiend. 

Sugriva  still  thy  death  may  be  : 

No  Yaksha,  fiend,  or  God  is  he. 

And  Rama  from  a  woman  springs, 

The  mortal  seed  of  mortal  kings. 

O  think  how  Bali  fell  subdued  ; 

Think  on  thy  slaughtered  multitude, 

Kespect  those  brave  and  strong  allies  j 

Consult  thy  safety,  and  be  wise. 

I,  even  I,  no  helper  need 

To  overthrow,  with  -car  and  steed, 

Thy  city  Lanka  half  divine: 

The  power  but  not  the  will  is  mine. 

For  Raghu's  son,  before  his  friend 

The  Vanar  monarch,  swore  to  end 

With  his  own  conquering  arm  the  life 

Of  him  who  stole  his  darling  wife. 

Turn,  and  be  wise,  O  Ravan  turn ; 

Or  thou  wilt  see  thy  Lanka  burn, 

And  with  thy  wives,  friends,  kith  and  kin 

Be  ruinecj.  for  thy  senseless  sin.' 

CANTO  LIT. 


VIBHISHAN'S  SPEECH, 

Then  Ravan  spake  with  flashing  eye  : 
'  Hence  with  the  Vanar  :  let  him  die.' 
Vibhishan  heard  the  stern  behest. 
And  pondered  in  his  troubled  breast ; 
Then,  trained  in  arts  that  soothe  and  please 
Addressed  the  king  in  words  like  these  : 

'  Revoke,  my  lord,  thy  fierce  decree, 
And  hear  the  words  I  speak  to  thee. 
Kings  wise  and  noble  ne'er  condemn 
To  death  the  envoys  sent  to  them. 
Such  deed  the  world's  contempt  would  draw 
On  him  who  breaks  the  ancient  law.1 
Observe  the  mean  where  justice  lies, 
And  spare  his  life  but  still  chastise.' 

1  "  One  who  murders  an  ambassador 
(raja  Wiata}  goes  to  Taptakumbha  ithe 
hell  of  heated  caldrons)."  WILSON'S  Visfyn1* 
Purdna,  Vol.  II.  p.  217, 


Canto  LHI. 


THE  RAM  A  TAN. 


423 


Then  forth  the  tyrant's  fury  broke, 
And  thus  in  augry  words  he  spoke  : 
I  '  O  hero,  when  the  wicked  bleed 
No  sin  or  shame  attends  the  deed. 
The  Vanar's  blood  must  needs  be  spilt, 
i  The  penalty  of  heinous  guilt.' 

Again  Vibhishan  made  reply; 
i  'Nay,  hear  nae,  for  he  must  not  die. 
Hear  the  great  law  the  wise  declare; 
'Thy  foeman's  envoy  thou  shalt  spare.' 
!  '  Tis  true  he  comes  an  open  foe  ; 
9  Tis  true  his  hands  have  wrought  us  woe. 
But  law  allows  thee,  if  thou  wilt, 
A  punishment  to  suit  the  guilt. 
The  mark  of  shame,  the  scourge,  the  brand, 
:  The  shaven  head,  the  wounded  hand. 
Yea,  were  the  Vanar  envoy  slain, 
Where,  King  of  giants,  were  the  gain  ? 
On  them  alone,  on  them  who  sent 
'The  message,  be  the  punishment, 
For  spake  he  well  or  spake  he  ill, 
He  spake  obedient  to  their  will. 
And,  if  he  perish,,  who  can  bear 
Thy  challenge  to  the  royal  pair? 
Who,  cross  the  ocean  and  incite 
Thy  death-doomed  enemies  to  fight  ?' 


CANTO  LIII. 


THE  PUNISHMENT. 

King  Ravan,  by  his  pleading  moved, 
The  counsel  of  the  chief  approved: 
'  Thy  words  are  wise  and  true;  to  kill 
An  envoy  would  beseem  us  ill. 
Yet  must  we  for  his  crime  invent 
Some  fitting  mode  of  punishment. 
The  tail,  I  fancy,  is  the  part 
Most  cherished  by  a  monkey's  heart.1 
Make  ready  :  set  his  tail  aflame, 
And  let  him  leave  us,  as  he  came, 
And  thus  disfigured  and  disgraced 
Back  to  his  king  and  people  haste.' 
>    The  giants  heard  their  monarch's  speech; 
And,  tilled  with  burning  fury,  eaeh 
Brought  strips  of  cotton  cloth,  and  round 
[The  monkey's  tail  the  bandage  wound. 
)M  round  his  tail  the  bands  they  drew 
His  mighty  form  dilating  grew 


"  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  envoys 
)f  King  David  had  the  half  of  their 
beards  shaved  off  by  Hanun,  King  of 
Immon.  (2  Sam.  X.)  "  WHEELER,  Hist, 
\f  India,  Vol.  II.  342. 

1  I  have  not  attempted  to  tone  down 
uiything  in  this  Cauto.  I  give  a  faithful 
translation. 


Vast  as  the  flame  that  bursts  on  high 
Where  trees  are  old  and  grass  is  dry. 
Each  band  and  strip  they  soaked  in  oil, 
And  set  on  fire  the  twisted  coil. 
Delighted  as  they  viewed  the  blaze, 
The  cruel  demons  stood  at  gaze  : 
And  mid  loud  drums  and  shells  rang  out 
The  triumph  of  their  joyful  shout. 
They  pressed  about  him  thick  and  fast 
As  through  the  crowded  streets  he  passed, 
Observing  with  attentive  care 
Eaeh  rich  and  wondrous  structure  there, 
Still  heedless  of  the  eager  cry 
That  rent  the  air,  The  spy  !  the  spy  1 

Some  to  the  captive  lady  ran, 
And  thus  in  joyous  words  began  : 
4  That  eopper-visaged  monkey,  he 
Who  in  the  garden  talked  with  thee, 
Through  Lanka's  town  is  led  a  show, 
And  round  his  tail  the  red  flames  glow.' 
The  mournful  news  the  lady  heard 
That  with  fresh  grief  her  bosom  stirred. 
Swift  to  the  kindled  fire  she  went 
And  prayed  before  it  reverent  : 
'  If  I  my  husband  have  obeyed, 
And  kept  the  aseetic  vows  I  made, 
Free,  ever  free,  from  stain  and  blot, 
O  spare  the  Vanar  ;  harm  him  not.' 

Then  leapt  on  high  the  flickering  flame 
And  shone  in  answer  to  the  dame. 
The  pitying  fire  its  rage  forbore  ; 
The  Vanar  felt  the  heat  no  more. 
Then,  to  minutest  size  reduced,1 
The  bonds  that  bound  his  limbs  he  loosed, 
And,  freed  from  every  band  and  chain, 
Rose  to  his  native  size  again. 
He  seized  a  club  of  ponderous  weight 
That  lay  before  him  by  the  gate, 
Rushed  at  the  fiends  that  hemmed  him 

round. 

And  laid  them  lifeless  on  the  ground, 
Through  Lanka's  town  again  he  strode, 
And  viewed  each  street  and  square  and 

road,— 

Still  wreathed  about  with  harmless  blaze, 
A  sun  engarlanded  with  rays. 


1  **  Behold  a  wonder  !  they  but  now  who 

seemed 
In  bigness  to  surpass  earth's  giant 

sons, 
Now  less  than  smallest  dwarfs  in 

narrow  room 

Throng  numberless." 

Paradise  Lost,  I,  776, 


424 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book   V. 


CANTO  LIV. 


THE  BURNING  OF  LANKA. 

'What  further  deed  remains  to  do 
To  vex  the  Hakshas  king  anew  ? 
The  beauty  of  his  grove  is  marred, 
Killed  are  the  bravest  of  his  guard. 
The  captains  of  his  host  are  sJain  ; 
But  forts  and  palaces  remain. 
Swift  is  the  work  and  light  the  toil 
Each  fortress  of  the  foe  to  spoil.' 

Reflecting  thus,  his  tale  ablaze 
As  through  the  cloud  red  lightning  plays, 
Jle  scaled  the  palaces  and  spread 
3  he  conflagration  where  he  sped. 
From  house  to  house  he  hurried  on, 
And  the  wild  flames  behind  him  shone. 
Each  mansion  of  the  foe  he  scaled, 
And  furious  fire  its  roof  assailed 
Till  all  the  commcn  ruin  shared  i 
Vibhishan's  house  alone  was  spared. 
From  blazing  pile  to  pile  he  sprang, 
And.  loud  his  shout  of  triumph  rang, 
As  roars  the  doomsday  cloud  when  all 
The  worlds  in  dissolution  fall. 
The  friendly  wind  conspired  to  fan 
The  hungry  flames  that  leapt  and  ran, 
And  spreading  in  their  fury  caught 
The  gilded  walls  with  pearls  inwrought, 
Till  each  proud  palace  reeled  aud  fell 
As  falls  a  heavenly  citadel. 

Loud  was  the  roar  the  demons  raised 
Mid  walls  that  split  and  beams  that  blazed, 
As  each  with  vain  endeavour  strove 
To  stay  the  flames  in  house  or  grove.. 
The  women,  with  dishevelled  hair, 
Flocked  to  the  roofs  in  wild  despair, 
Shrieked  out  for  succour,  wept  aloud, 
And  fell,  like  lightning  from  a  cloud. 
He  saw  the  flames  ascend  aud  curl 
Round  turkis,  diamond,  and  pearl, 
While  silver  floods  and  mplteu  gold 
From  ruined  wall  and  latice  rolled, 
As  tire  grows  fiercer  as  he  feeds 
On  wood  and  grass  and  crackling  reeds, 
So  Han  urn  an  the  ruin  eyed 
With  fury  still  unsatisfied. 


CANTO  LY. 


FEAR  FOR 


But  other  thoughts  resumed  their  sway 
When  Lanka's  town  in  ruin  lay  ; 
And,  as  his  bosom  felt  their  weight, 
He  stood  a  while  to  meditate  : 
'What  have  I  dvwie  ?',  he  thought  with 
gkaoao  : 


'  Destroyed  the  town  with  hostile  flame. 

0  happy  they  whose  firm  control 
Checks  the  wild  passion  of  the  soul  ; 
Who  on  the  fires  of  anger  throw 

The  cooling  drops  that  check  their  glow. 
But  woe  is  me,  whom  wrath  could  lead 
To  do  this  senseless  shameless  deed. 
The  town  to  fire  and  death  I  gave, 
Nor  thought  of  her  I  came  to  save, — 
Doomed  by  my  own  rash  folly,  doomed 
To  perish  in  the  flames  consumed. 
Jf  I,  when  anger  drove  me  wild, 
Have  caused  the  death  of  Janak's  child, 
The  kindled  flame  shall  end  my  woe, 
Or  the  deep  fires  that  burn  below,1 
Or  my  forsaken  corse  shall  be 
Food  for  the  monsters  of  the  sea. 
How  can  I  meet  Sugriva  ?  how 
Before  the  royal  brothers  bow. — 

1  whose  rash  deed  has  madly  foiled. 
The  noble  work  in  which  we  toiled  ? 
Or  has  her  own  bright  virtue  shed 

Its  guardian  influence  round  her  head? 
She  lives  untouched,— the  peerless  dame 
Flame  has  no  fury  for  the  flame.  * 
The  very  fire  would  ne'er  consent 
To  harm  a  queen  so  excellent, — 
The  high-souled  Rama's  faithful  wife, 
Protected  by  her  holy  life. 
She  lives,  she  lives.    Why  should  T  fear 
For  one  whom  Eaghu's  sons  hold  dear  * 
Has  not  the  pitying  fire  that  spared 
The  Vanar  for  the  lady  cared  ? ' 
Such  were  his  thoughts:  he  pondere< 

long, 

And  fear  grew  faint  and  hope  grew  strong 
Then  round  him  heavenly  voices  rang, 
And,  sweetly  tuned,  his  praises  sang: 
'  O  glorious  is  the  exploit  done 
By  Hanuman  the  Wind-God's  son. 
The  flames  o'er  Lanka's  city  rise: 
The  giants'  home  in  ruin  lies. 
O'er  roof  and  wall  the  fires  have  spread,, 
Nor  harmed  a  hair  of  SitaVs  head,' 


CANTO  LVI. 


MOUNT  ARISHTA. 

He  looked  upon  the  burning  waste, 
Then  sought  the  queen  in  joyous  haste^ 
With  words  of  hope  consoled  her  heart, 
And  made  him  ready  to  depart. 


'  The  fire  which  is  supposed  to  bur 
beneath  the  sea. 

*  Situ,  is  likened  to  the  fire  which  is  a 
emblem  of  purity, 


Canto  LVIL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


425 


He  scaled  Arishta's  glorious  steep 
Whose  summits  beetled  o'er  the  deep. 
The  woods  in  varied  beauty  dressed 
Hung  like  a  garland  round  his  crest, 
And  clouds  of  ever  changing  hue 
A  robe  about  his  shoulders  threw. 
On  him  the  rays  of  morning  fell 
To  wake  the  hill  they  loved  so  well, 
And  bid  unclose  those  splendid  eyes 
That  glittered  in  his  mineral  dyes. 
He  woke  to  hear  the  music  made 
By  thunders  of  the  white  cascade, 
While  every  laughing  rill  that  sprang 
From  crag  to  crag  its  carol  sang. 
For  arms,  he  lifted  to  the  stars 
His  towering  stems  of  Deodars, 
And  morning  heard  his  pealing  call 
In  tumbling  brook  and  waterfall. 
He  trembled  when  his  woods  were  pale 
And  bowed  beneath  the  autumn  gale, 
And  when  his  vocal  reeds  were  stirred 
His  rnalancholy  moan  was  heard. 

Far  down  against  the  mountain's  feet 
The  Vanar  heard  the  wild  waves  beat ; 
Then  turned  his  glances  to  the  north, 
Sprang  from  the  peak  and  bounded  forth. 
The  mountain  felt  the  fearful  shock 
And  trembled  through  his  mass  of  rock. 
The  tallest  trees  were  crushed  and  rent 
Arid  headlong  to  the  valley  sent, 
And  as  the  rocking  shook  each  cave 
Loud  was  the  roar  the  lions  gave. 
Forth  from  the  shaken  cavern  came 
Fierce  serpents  with  their  tongues  aflame ; 
And  every  Yaksha,  wild  with  dread, 
And  Kinnar  and  Gandharva,  fled. 


CANTO  LVII. 


HANUMAN'S  RETURN. 

Still,  like  a  winged  mountain,  he 
Sprang  forward  through  the  airy  sea,1 
And  rushing  through  the  ether  drew 
The  clouds  to  follow  as  he  flew, 
Through  the  great  host  around  him  spread, 
Grey,  golden,  dark,  and  white,  and  red. 

1  '  I  omit  two  stanzas  which  continue 
the  metaphor  of  the  sea  or  lake  of  air. 
The  moon  is  its  lotus,  the  sun  its  wild- 
duck,  the  clouds  are  its  water-weeds,  Mars 
is  its  shark  and  so  on.  Gorresio  remarks  : 
4  This  comparison  of  a  great  lake  to  the 
sky  and  of  celestial  to  aquatic  objects  is 
one  of  those  ideas  which  the  view  and 
qualities  of  natural  scenery  awake  in  live- 
ly fancies,  Imagine  one  of  those  grand 


Now  in  a  sable  cloud  immersed, 
Now  from  its  gloomy  pall  he  burst, 
Like  the  bright  Lord  of  Stars  concealed 
A  moment,  and  again  revealed. 
Sunabha1  passed,  he  neared  the  coast 
Where  waited  still  the  Vanar  host. 
They  heard  a  rushing  in  the  skien, 
And  lifted  up  their  wondering  eyes. 
His  wild  triumphant  shout  they  knew 
That  louder  still  and  louder  grew, 
And  Jambavan  with  eager  voice 
Called  on  the  Vanars  to  rejoice  : 
'  Look  he  returns,  the  Wind-God's  son, 
And  full  success  his  toils  have  won  ; 
Triumphant  is  the  shout  that  comes 
Like  music  of  a  thousand  drums.' 

Up  sprang  the  Vanars  from  the  ground 
Ana  listened  to  the  wondrous  sound 
Of  hurtling  arm  and  thigh  as  through 
The  region  of  the  air  he  flew, 
Loud  as  the  wind,  when  tempests  rave, 
Roars  in  the  prison  of  the  cave. 
From  eras:  to  crag,  from  height  to  height, 
They  bounded  in  their  mad  delight, 
And  when  he  touched  the  mountain's  crest, 
Wii/h  reverent  welcome  round  him  pressed. 
They  brought  him  of  their  woodland  fruits, 
They  brought  him  of  the  choicest  roots, 
And  laughed  and  shouted  in  their  glee 
The  noblest  of  their  chiefs  to  see. 
Nor  Hanuman  delayed  to  greet 
Sage  Jambavan  with  reverence  meet ; 
To  Angad  and  the  chiefs  he  bent 
For  age  and  rank  preeminent, 
And  briefly  spoke  :  *  These  eyes  have  seen, 
These  lips  addressed,  the  Maithil  queen.' 
They  sat  beneath  the  waving  trees, 
And  Angad  spoke  in  words  like  these : 
*  O  noblest  of  the  Vanar  kind 
For  valour  power  and  might  combined, 
To  thee  triumphant  o'er  the  foe 
Our  h»pes,  our  lives  and  all  we  owe. 
O  faithful  heart  in  perils  tried, 

and  splendid  lakes  of  India  covered  with 

lotus  blossoms,   furrowed  by  wild-ducks 

of  the  most  vivid  colours,  mantled  over 

here  and  there  with  flowers  and  water 

j  weeds  &c.,  and  it  will  be  understood  how 

i  the  fancy  of  the  poet  could  readily  com- 

|  pare  to  the  sky  radiant  with  celestial  azure 

|  the  blue  expanse  of  the  water,  to  the  soft 

!  light  of  the  moon  the  tender  hue  of  the 

j  lotus,  to  the  splendour  of  the  sun  the  bri- 

I  lliant  colours  of  the  wild-fowl,  to  the  stars 

j  the  flowers,  to  the  clouds  the  weeds  that 

float  upon  the  water  &c.' 

1  Sun&bha  is  the  mountain  tbat  ros© 
from  the  eea  when  Hanum&n  passed  over 
to  Lanka, 


426 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  1 


Which  toil  nor  fear  could  turn  aside, 

Thy  deed  the  lady  will  restore, 

And  Rama's  heart  will  ache  no  more,' l 


CANTO  LXI. 


THE  FEAST  OF  HONEY. 

They  rose  in  air  :  the  region  grew 
Dark  with  their  shadow  as  they  flew. 
Swift  to  a  lovely  grove*  they  came 
That  rivalled  heavenly  Nandan's3  fame 
Where  countless  bees  their  honey  stored,- 
The  pleasance  of  the  Vanars'  lord, 
To  every  creature  fenced  and  barred, 

-  Which  Dadhimukh  was  set  to  guard, 
A  noble  Vanar,  brave  and  bold, 
Sugriva's  uncle  lof  ty-souled. 

To  Angad  came  with  one  accord 
The  Vanars,  and  besought  their  lord 
That  they  those  honeyed  stores  might  eat 
That  made  the  grove  so  passing  sweet. 
He  gave  consent :  they  sought  the  trees 

•  Thronged  with  innumerable  bees. 
They  rifled  all  the  treasured  store, 
And  ate  the  fruit  the  branches  bore, 
And  still  as  they  prolonged  the  feast 
Their  merriment  and  joy  increased. 
Drunk  with  the  sweets,  they  danced  and 

bowed, 

They  wildly  sang,  they  laughed  aloud, 
Some  climbed  and  sprang  from  tree  to  tree, 
Some  sat  and  chattered  in  their  glee. 
Some    scaled  the    trees    which    creepers 

crowned, 

And  rained  the  branches  to  the  ground. 
There  with  loud  laugh  a  Vanar  sprang 
Close  to  his  friend  who  madly  sang. 
In  doleful  mood  another  crept 
To  mix  his  tears  with  one  who  wept. 

Then  Dadhimukh  with  fury  viewed 
The  intoxicated  multitude. 
-He  looked  upon  the  rifled  shade, 
•And  all  the  ruin  they  had  made  ; 
Then  called  with  angry  voice,  and  strove 
To  save  the  remnant  of  the  grove. 
But  warning  cries  and  words  were  spurned, 
And  angry  taunt  and  threat  returned. 
Then  fierce  and  wild  contention  rose  : 
With  furious  words  he  mingled  blows. 
They  by  no  shame  or  fear  withheld, 
By  drunken  mood  and  ire  impelled, 
Used  claws,  and  teeth,  and  hands,  and  beat 
The  keeper  under  trampling  feet. 

1  Three  Cantos  of  repetition  are  omitted. 

a  Madhuvan  the  'honey- wood.' 

3  India's  pleasure-ground  or  elysium.: 


CANTO  LXV.1 


THE  TIDINGS. 

On  to  Prasrayan's  hill  they  sped 
Where  blooming  trees  their  branches 


To  Raghu's  sons  their  heads  they  bent 
And  did  obeisance  reverent. 
Then  to  their  king,  by  Angad  led, 
Each  Vanar  chieftain  bowed  his  head ; 
And  Hanuman  the  brave  and  bold 
His  tidings  to  the  monarch  told  ; 
But  first  in  Rama's  hand  he  placed 
The  gem  that  Sita's  brow  had  graced  : 
*  I  crossed  the  sea  :  I  searched  a  while 
For  Sita  in  the  giants'  isle. 
I  found  her  vext  with  taunt  and  threat 
By  demon  guards  about  her  set. 
Her  tresses  twined  in  single  braid, 
On  the  bare  earth  her  limbs  were  laid. 
Sad  were  her  eyes  :  her  cheeks  were  pale 
As  shuddering  flowers  in  winter's  gale. 
I  stood  beside  the  weeping  dame, 
And  gently  whispered  Rama's  name  ; 
With  cheering  words  her  grief  consoled, 
And  then  the  whole  adventure  told. 
She  weeps  afar  beyond  the  sea, 
And  her  true  heart  is  still  with  thee. 
She  gave  a  sign  that  thou  wouldst  know, 
8he  bids  thee  think  upon  the  crow, 
And  bright  mark  pressed  upon  her  brow 
When  none  was  nigh  but  she  and  thou. 
She  bids  thee  take  this  precious  stone, 
The  sea-born  gem  thou  long  hast  known, 
4  And  1',  she  said,  *  will  dull  the  sting 
Of  woe  by  gazing  on  the  ring. 
One  little  month  shall  I  sustain 
This  life  oppressed  with  woe  and  pain  ; 
And  when  the  month  is  ended,  I 
The  giants'  prey  must  surely  die.' 


1  Three  Cantos  consisting  of  little  butt 
repetitions  are  omitted.    Dadhimukh  es- 
capes from  the  infuriated  monkeys  ands 
hastens  to  Sugriva  to  report  their  mi  scon- 
duct.    Sugriva  infers  that  Hanuman  and 
his  band  have  been  successful    in  their 
search,  and  that  the  exuberance  of  spirits  \ 
and  the  mischief  complained  of,  are  but 
the  natural  expression  of  their  joy.    Da- 
dhimukh obtains  little    sympathy  from 
Sugriva,   and  is  told  to  return  and  send, 
the  monkeys  on  with  all  possible  speed. 


Canto  II. 


TffE  RAM  AY  AN. 


427 


CANTO  LXVL 


KAMA'S  SPEECH. 

There  ceased  the  Vanar  :  Rama  pressed 
The  treasured  jewel  to  his  breast, 
And  from  his  eyes  the  waters  broke 
As  to  the  Vanar  king  he  spoke : 
'  As  o'er  her  babe  the  mother  weeps, 
This  flood  of  tears  the  jewel  steeps. 
This  gem  that  shone  on  Sita's  head 
"Was  Janak's  gift  when  we  were  wed, 
And  the  pure  brow  that  wore  it  lent 
New  splendour  to  the  ornament. 
This  genij  bright  offspring  of  the  wave, 
The  King  of  Heayen  to  Janak  gave, 
Whose  noble  sacrificial  rite 
Had  rilled  the  God  with  new  delight. 
Now,  as  I  gaze  upon  the  prize, 
Methinks  I  see  my  father's  eyes. 
Methinks  I  see  before  me  stand 
The  ruler  of  Videha's  land. ' 
Methinks  mine  arms  are  folded  now 
Bound  her  who  wore  it  on  her  brow. 
Speak,  Hanuman,  O  say,  dear  friend, 
What  message  did  my  darling  send  ? 
O  speak,  and  let  thy  words  impart 
Their  gentle  dew  to  cool  my  heart, 
Ah,  'tis  the  crown  of  woe  to  see 
This  gem  and  ask  'Where,  where  is  she  ? ' 
If  for  one  month  her  heart  be  strong, 
Her  days  of  life  will  yet  be  long. 
But  I,  with  naught  to  lend  relief, 
This  very  day  must  die  of  grief. 
Come,  Hanuman,  and  quickly  guide 
The  mourner  to  his  darling's  side. 

0  lead  me— thou  hast  learnt  the  way— 

1  cannot  and  I  will  not  stay. 
How  can  my  gentle  love  endure, 
So  timid,  delicate,  and  pure, 

The  dreadful  demons  fierce  and  vile 
Who  watch  her  in  the  guarded  isle  ? 
No  more  the  light  of  beauty  shines 
From  Sita  as  she  weeps  and  pines, 
But  pain  and  sorrow,  cloud  on  cloud, 
Her  moonlight  glory  dim  and  shroud. 
O  speak,  dear  Hanuman,  and  tell 
Each  word  that  from  her  sweet  lips  fell. 
Her  words,  her  words  alone  can  give 
The  healing  balm  to  make  me  live.'* 

1  Janak  was  king  of  Videha  or  Mithila 
in  Behar. 

54  The  original  contains  two  more  Cantos 
which  end  the  Book,  Canto  LXVII  begins 
thus  :  *  Hanumau  thus  addressed  by  the 
great-souled  son  of  Raghu  related  to  the 
son  of  Raghu  all  that  Sita  had  said.'  And 
fche  two  Cantos  contain  nothing  but 
Hanuman's  account  of  his  interview  with 
Sita,  and  the  report  of  his  own  speeches 
ft*  well  as  of  hers. 


BOOK  VI.1 


CANTO  I. 


'S  SPEECH. 

The  son  of  Raghu  heard,  consoled, 
The  wondrous  tale  Hanuman  told  ; 
And,  as  his  joyous  hope  grew  high, 
In  friendly  words  he  made  reply  : 

*  Behold  a  mighty  task  achieved, 
Which  never  heart  but  his  conceived. 
Who  else  across  the  sea  can  spring, 
Save  Vayu*  and  the  Feathered  King  ?3 
Who,  pass  the  portals  strong  and  high 
Which  Nagas,4  Gods,  and  fiends  defy, 
Where  Ravan's  hosts  their  station  keep,—. 
And  come  uninjured  o'er  the  deep  ? 
By  such  a  deed  the  Wind-God's  son 
Good  service  to  the  king  has  done, 
A  nd  saved  from  ruin  and  disgrace 
Lakshman  and  me  and  Raghu's  race. 
Well  has  he  planned  and  bravely  fought, 
And  with  due  care  nay  lady  sought. 
But  of  the  sea  I  sadly  think, 
And  the  sweet  hopes  that  cheered  me  sink, 
How  can  we  cross  the  leagues  of  foam 
That  keep  us  from  the  giant's  home  ? 
What  can  the  Vanar  legions  more 
Than  muster  on  the  ocean  shore  ?' 


CANTO  II. 

SUGRIVA'S  SPEECH. 

ETe  ceased  :  and  King  Sugriva  tried 
To  calm  his  grief,  and  thus  replied : 

Be  to  thy  nobler  nature  true, 

^or  let  despair  thy  soul  subdue. 

Phis  cloud  of  causeless  woe  dispel, 

?or  all  as  yet  has  prospered  well, 
And  we  have  traced  thy  queen,  and  knovr 

Dhe  dwelling  of  our  Rakshas  foe. 
Arise,  consult :  thy  task  must  be 

i?o  cast  a  bridge  athwart  the  sea, 

The  city  of  our  foe  to  reach 

i^hat  crowns  the  mountain  by  the  beach  ; 


1  The  Sixth  Book  is  called  in  Sanskrit 
Yvddha-Kdnda  or  The  War,  and  Lanka- 
Rdnda.  It  is  generally    known    at    the 

resent  day  by  the  latter  title. 

2  Vayu  is  the  God  of  Wind, 

3  Garuda  the  King  of  Birds. 

4  Serpent-Gods. 


428 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


B.yolc  VI. 


And  when  our  feet  that  isle  shall  tread, 
Rejoice  and  deem  thy  foeman  dead. 
The  sea  unbridged.  his  walls  defy 
Both  fiends  aud  children  of  the  sky, 
Though  at  the  fierce  battalions'  head 
Lord  Indra's  self  the  onset  led. 
Yea,  victory  is  thine  before 
The  long  bridge  touch  the  farther  shore, 
So  fleet  and  fierce  and  strong  are  these 
Who  limb  them  as  their  fancies  please. 
Away  with  grief  and  sad  surmise 
That  mar  the  noblest  enterprise, 
And  with  their  weak  suspicion  blight 
The  sage's  plan,  the  hero  s  might. 
Come,  this  degenerate  weakness  spurn, 
And  bid  thy  dauntless  heart  return, 
For  each  fair  hope  by  grief  is  crossed 
When  those  we  love  'are  dead  or  lost. 
Arise,  O  best  of  those  who  know, 
Arm  for  the  giant's  overthrow. 
None  in  the  triple  world  I  see 
Who  in  the  fight  may  equal  thee  ; 
None  who  before  thy  face  may  stand 
And  brave  the  bow  that  arms  thy  hand. 
Trust  to  these  mighty  Vanars  :  they 
With  full  success  thy  trust  will  pay, 
When  thou  shalt  reach  the  robber's  hold, 
Aud  loving  arms  round  Sita  fold.' 


CANTO  III. 


LANKA. 

He  ceased :  and  Raghu'e  son  gave  heed, 
Attentive  to  his  prudent  rede  : 
Then  turned  again,  with  hope  inspired, 
To  Hanuman,  and  thus  inquired  : 

'  Light  were  the  task  for  thee,  I  ween, 
To  bridge  the  sea  that  gleams  between 
The  mainland  and  the  island  shore. 
Or  dry  the  deep  and  guide  us  o'er. 
Fain  would  I  learn  from  thee  whose  fed 
Have  trod  the  stones  of  every  street, 
Of  fenced  Lanka's  towers  and  forts, 
And  walls  and  moats  and  guarded  ports, 
And  castles  where  the  giants  dwell, 
And  battlemented  citadel. 
<)  Vayu's  son,  describe  it  all, 
With  palace,  fort,  and  gate,  and  wall.' 
He  ceased :  and,  skilled  in  arts  tha 

guide 
The  eloquent,  the  chief  replied  : 

*  Vast  is  the  city,  gay  and  strong, 
Where  elephants  unnumbered  throng, 
And  countless  hosts  of  Rakshas  breed 
Stand  ready  by  the  car  and  steed, 
Four  massive  gates,  securely  barred, 
All  entrance  to  the  city  guarcl, 
With  murderous  engines  fixt  to  throw 
Bolt,  arrow,  rock  to  check  the  foe, 


nd  many'a  mace  with  iron  head 
aat  strikes  at  once  a  hundred  dead, 
golden  ramparts  wide  and  high 
h  massy  strength  the  foe  defy, 
Vhere  inner  walls  their  rich  inlay 
f  coral,  turkis,  pearl  display, 
er  circling  moats  are  broad  aud  deep, 
Vhere  ravening  monsters  dart  and  leap. 
•y  four  great  piers  each  moat  is  spanned 
Vhere  lines  of  deadly  engines  stand, 
n  sleepless  watch  at  every  gate 
Jnnumbered  hosts  of  giants  wait, 
".nd,  masters  of  each  weapon,  rear 

he  threatening  pike  and  sword  and  spear. 

y  fury  hurled  those  ramparts  down, 
Billed  up  the  moats  that  gird  the  town, 
?he  piers  and  portals  overturned, 
And  stately  Lanka  spoiled  and  burned, 
Jowe'er  we  Vauars  force  our  way 
)'er  the  wide  seat  of  Varun's1  sway, 
Je  sure  that  city  of  the  foe 
!s  doomed  to  sudden  overthrow, 
^ay,  why  so  vast  an  army  lead  ? 
3rave  Angad,  Dwivid  good  at  need, 
fierce  Mainda,  Panas  famed  in  fight, 
And  Nila's  skill  and  Nala's  might, 
And  Jambavan  the  strong  and  wise, 
Will  dare  the  easy  enterprise. 
Assailed  by  these  shall  Lanka  fall 
With  gate  and  rampart,  tower  and  wall. 
Command  the  gathering,  chief  :  and  thej 
In  happy  hour  will  haste  away.5 

CANTO  IV. 

THE  MARCH. 

He  ceased  ;  and  spurred  by  warlike  pride 

The  impetuous  son  of  Baghu  cried  : 

1  Soon  shall  mine  arm  with  wrathful  joy 

That  city  of  the  foe  destroy, 

Now,  chieftain,  now  collect  the  host, 

And  onward  to  the  southern  coast ! 

The  sun  in  his  meridian  tower 

Gives  glory  to  the  Vanar  power. 

The  demon  lord  who  stole  my  queen 

By  timely  flight  his  life  may  screen. 

She,  when  she  knows  her  lord  is  near, 

Will  cling  to  hope  and  banish  fear, 

Saved  like  a  dying  wretch  who  sips 

The  drink  of  Gods  with  fevered  lips. 

Arise,  thy  troops  to  battle  lead  : 

All  happy  omens  counsel  speed. 

The  Lord  of  Stars  in  favouring  skies 

Bodes  glory  to  our  enterprise. 

This  arm  shall  slay  the  fiend  ;  and  she, 

My  consort,  shall  again  be  free. 


1  The  God  of  the  sea, 


Vanto  IV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN, 


429 


Mine  upward-throbbing  eye  foreshows 
The  longed-for  triumph  o'er  my  foes. 
Far  in  the  van  be  .Ni  la's  post, 
To  scan  the  pathway  for  the  host, 
And  let  thy  bravest  and  thy  best, 
A  hundred  thousand,  wait  his  heat. 
Go  forth,  0  warrior  Nila,  lead 
The  legions  on  through  wood  and  mead 
Where  pleasant  waters  cool  the  ground, 
And  honey,  flowers,  and  fruit  abound. 
Go,  and  with  timely  care  prevent 
The  Rakshas  foernan's  dark  intent. 
With  watchful  troops  each  valley  guard 
Ere  brooks  and  fruits  and  roots  be  marred, 
And  search  each  glen  and  leafy  shade 
For  hostile  troops  in  ambuscade. 
But  let  the  weaklings  stay  behind  : 
For  heroes  is  our  task  designed. 
Let  thousands  of  the  Vanar  breed 
The  vanguard  of  the  armies  lead  : 
Fierce  and  terrific  must  it  be 
As  billows  of  the  stormy  sea. 
There  be  the  hill-huge  Gaja's  place, 
And  Gavaya's,  strongest  of  his  race, 
And,  like  the  bull  that  leads  the  herd, 
Gavaksha's,  by  no  fears  deterred. 
Let  Rishabh,  matchless  in  the  might 
Of  warlike  arms,  protect  our  right, 
And  Gandhamadan  next  inr  rank 
Defend  and  guide  the  other  flank. 
I,  like  the  God  who  rules  the  sky 
Borne  on  Airavat,1  mounted  high 
On  stout  Haniiman's  back  will  ride, 
The  central  host  to  cheer  and  guide. 
Fierce  as  the  God  who  rules  below, 
On  Angad's  back  let  Lakshman  show 
Like  him  who  wealth  to  mortals  shares,  * 
The  lord  whom  Sarvabhauma3  bears. 
The  bold  Sushen's  impetuous  might, 
And  Vegadarsi's  piercing  sight, 
And  J4mbavan  whom  bears  revere, 
Illustrious  three,  shall  guard  the  rear.' 

He  ceased  :  the  royal  Vanar  heard, 
And  swift,  obedient  to  his  word, 
Sprang  forth  in  numbers  none  might  tell 
From  mountain,  caye,  and  bosky  dell, 
From  rocky  ledge  and  breezy  hejght, 
Fierce  Vanars  burning  for  the  tight. 
And  Rama's  course  was  southward  bent 
Amid  the  mighty  armament. 
On,  joyous,  pressed  in  close  array 
The  hosts  who  owned  Sugriva's  sway, 
With  nimt»le  feet,  with  rapid  bound 
Exploring,  ere  they  passed,  the  ground, 
While  from  ten  myriad  throats  rang  out 
Tjie  challenge  and  the  battle  shout. 


On  roots  and  honeycomb  they  fed, 
And  clusters  from  tlie  boughs  o'erhead, 
Or  from  the  ground  the  tall  trees  tore 
Rich  with  the  flowery  load  they  bore. 
Some  carried  c  >mrades,  wild  with  Tiiirfch, 
Then  casttlieir  riders  to  the  earth, 
j  Who  swiftly  to  their  feet  arose 
And  overthrew  their  laaghing  foes, 
Wiiile  still  rang  out  the  general  cry, 
'  King  Ravan  and  his  fiends  shall  die.' 
Still  on,  exulting  in  the  pride 
Of  conscious  strength,  the  Vanars  hied, 
And  gazed  where  noble  Sahya,  best 
Of  mountains,  raised  eash  towering  crest. 
They  looked  on  lake  and  streamlet,  where 
The  lotus  bloom  was  bright  and  fair, 
Nor  marched— for  Rima's  best  they  feared 
Wnere  town  or  haunt  of  men  appeared. 
Still  onward,  fearful  as  the  waves 
Of  Ocaan  when  he  roars  and  raves, 
L^d  by  their  eager  chieftains,  went 
The  Vanars'  countless  armament. 
Each  captain,  like  a  noble  steed 
Urged  by  the  lash  to  double  speed. 
Pressed  onward,  filled  'with  zeal  and  pride, 
Bv  Rama's  and  his  brother's  side, 
Who  high  above  the  Vanar  throng 
On  mighty  backs  were  borne  along, 
Like  the  g»eat  Lords  of  Day  and  Night 
Seized  by  eclipsing  planets'  might. 
Then  Lakshman  radiant  as  the  morn, 
On  Angad's  shoulders  high  upborne. 
With  sweet  consoling  words  that  woke 
New  ardour,  to  his  brother  spoke  : 
'Soon  shalt  thou  turn,  thy  queen  regained 
And  impious  Kavan's  life-blood  drained, 
In  happiness  and  high  renown 
To  dear  Ayodhva's  happy  town. 
I  see  around  ex3eeding  fair 
All  omens  of  the  earth  and  aiv% 
Auspicious  breezes  sweet  and  low 
To  greet  the  Vanar  army  blow, 
And  softly  to  my  listening  ear 
Come  the  glad  cries  of  bird  and  deer» 
Bright  is  the  sky  around  us,  bright 
Without  a  cloud  the  Lord  of  Light, 
And  Sukra1  with  propitious  love 
Looks  on  thee  from  his  throne  above. 
The  pole-star  and  the  Sainted  Seven2 
Shine  brightly  in  the  northern  heaven, 
And  great  Trisanku,3  glorious  king, 


1  Indra's  elephant, 

?  Kuvera,  God  of  wealth, 

3  Kuvera'g  elephant, 


1  The  planet  Venus,  or  its  regent  who 
is  regarded  as  the  son  of  Bhrigu  and  pre- 
ceptor of  the  Daityas. 

*  The  seven  rishis  or  saints  who  form 
the  constellation  of  the  Great  Bear. 

3  Trisanku  was  raised  to  the  skies  to 
form  a  constellation  in  the  southern  hem- 
isphere. The  story  is  told  in  Book  I.  Canto 
LX. 


430 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole   VI, 


Ikshvaku's  son  from  whom  we  spring, 
Beams  in  unclouded  glory  near 
His  holy  priest1  whom  all  revere. 
Undimmed  the  two  Visakhas2  shine, 
The  strength  and  glory  of  our  line, 
And  Nairrit's3  influence  that  aids 
Our  Rakshas  fcemen  faints  and  fades. 
The  running  brooks  are  fresh  and  fair, 
The  boughs  their  ripening  clusters  bear, 
And  scented  breezes  gently  sway 
The  leaflet  of  the  tender  spray. 
See,  with  a  glory  half  divine 
The  Vanars'  ordered  legions  shine, 
Bright  as  the  Gods'  exultant  train 
Who  saw  the  demon  Tarak  slain. 
O  let  thine  eyes  these  signs  behold, 
And  bid  thy  heart  be  glad  and  bold.' 

The  Vanar  squadrons  densely  spread 
O'er  all  the  country  onward  sped, 
While  rising  from  the  rapid  beat 
Of  bears'  and  monkeys'  nastening  feet 
Dust  hid  the  earth  with  thickest  veil, 
And  made  the  struggling  sunbeams  pale. 
Now  where  Mahendra's  peaks  arise 
Came  Rama  of  the  lotus  eyes 
And  the  long  arm's  resistless  might, 
And  clomb  the  mountain's  wood-crowned 

height. 

Thence  Dasaratha's  son  beheld 
Where  billov\y  Ocean  rose  and  swelled, 
Past  Malaya's  peaks  and  Sahya's  chain 
The  Vanar  legions  reached  the  main, 
And  stood  in  many  a  marshalled  band 
On  loud-resounding  Ocean's  strand. 
To  the  fair  wood  that  fringed  the  tide 
Came  Dasaratha's  son,  and  cried  ; 
*  At  length,  my  lord  Sugriva,  we 
Have  reached  King  Varun's  realm  the  sea, 
And  one  great  thought,  still-vexing,  how 
To  cross  the  flood,  awaits  us  now. 
The  broad  deep  ocean,  that  denies 
A  passage,  stretched  before  us  lies. 
Then  let  us  halt  and  plan  the  while 
How  best  to  storm  the  giant's  isle.' 

He  ceased  :  Sugriva  on  the  coast 
By  trees  o'ershadowed  stayed  the  host, 
That  seemed  in  glittering  lines  to  be 
The  bright  waves  of  a  second  sea. 
Then  from  the  shore  the  captains  gazed 
On  billows  which  the  breezes  raised 

1  The  sage  Visvamitra,  who  performed 
for   Trisanku  the  great    sacrifice  which 
raised  him  to  the  heavens, 

2  One  of  the  lunar  asterisms  containing 
four  or  originally  two  stars    under    the 
regency  of  a  dual  divinity  Indragni,  Indra 
and  Agni. 

3  The  lunar  asterism  Mula,  belonging 
to  the  Kukshases, 


To  fury,  as  they  dashed  in  foam 
O'er  Varun's  realm,  the  Asurs'  home  :l 
The  sea  that  laughed  with  foam,    and 

danced 
With    waves     whereon    the"  sunbeams 

glanced  : 

Where,  when  the  light  began  to  fade, 
Huge  crocodiles  and  monsters  played  j 
And,  when  the  moon  went  up  the  sky, 
The  troubled  billows  rose  on  high 
From  the  wild  watery  world  whereon 
A  thousand  moons  reflected  shone  : 
Where  awful  serpents  swam  and  showed 
Their  fiery  crests  which  Hashed  and  glowed, 
Illumining  the  depths  of  hell, 
The  prison  where  the  demons  dwell. 
The  eye,  bewildered,  sought  in  vain 
The  bounding  line  of  sky  and  main: 
Alike  in  shade,  alike  in  glow 
Were  sky  above  and  sea  below. 
There  wave -like  clouds  by  clouds  were 

chased, 

Here  cloud -like  billows  roared  and  raced  ; 
Then  shone  the  stars,  and  many  a  gem 
That  lit  the  waters  answered  them. 
They  saw  the  great-souled  Ocean  stirred 
To  frenzy  by  the  winds,  and  heard, 
Loud  as  ten  thousand  drums,  the  roar 
Of  wild  waves  dashing  on  the  shore. 
They  saw  him  mounting  to  defy 
With  deafening  voice  the  troubled  skyr 
And  the  deep  bed  beneath  him  swell 
In  fury  as  the  billows  fell. 


CANTO  V. 


KAMA'S  LAMENT. 

There  on  the  coast  in  long  array 
The  Vanars'  marshalled  legions  lay, 
Where  Nila's  care  had  ordered  well 
The  watch  of  guard  and  sentinel, 
And  Mainda  moved  from  post  to  post 
"With  Dwivid  to  protect  the  host. 

Then  Rama  stood  by  Lakshman's  side, 
And  mastered  by  his  sorrow  cried  : 
'  My  brother  dear,  the  heart's  distress, 
As  days  wear  on.  grows  less  and  less. 
But  my  deep-seated  grief,  alas, 
Grows  fiercer  as  the  seasons  pass. 
Though  for  my  queen  my  spirit  longs, 
And  broods  indignant  o'er  my  wrongs, 
Still  wilder  is  my  grief  to  know 
That  her  young  life  is  passed  in  woe. 
Breathe,  gentle  gale,  0  breathe  where  she 
Lies  prisoned,  and  then  breathe  on  me, 


1  The  Asurs  or  demons  dwell  imprisoned 
in  the  depths  beneath  the  sea. 


Canto   VII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


431 


And,  though  my  love  I  may  not  meet, 
Thy  kiss  shall  be  divinely  sweet. 
Ah,  by  the  giant's  shape  appalled, 
On  her  dear  lord  for  help  she  called, 
Still  in  mine  ears  the  sad  cry  rings 
And  tears  my  heart  with  poison  stings. 
Through  the  long  daylight  and  the  gloom 
Of  night  wild  thoughts  of  her  consume 
My  spirit,  and  my  love  supplies 
The  torturing  flame  which  never  dies. 
Leave  me,  my  brother  ;  I  will  sleep 
Couched  on  the  bosom  of  the  deep, 
For  the  cold  wave  may  bring  me  peace 
And  bid  the  fire  of  passion  cease. 
One  only  thought  my  stay  must  be, 
That  earth,  one  earth,  holds  her  and  me, 
To  hear,  to  know  my  darling  lives 
Some  life -supporting  comfort  gives, 
As  streams  from  distant  fountains  run 
O'er  meadows  parching  in  the  sun. 
Ah  when,  my  f oeman  at  my  feet, 
Shall  I  my  queen,  my  glory,  meet, 
The  blossom  of  her  dear  face  raise 
And  on  her  eyes  enraptured  gaze, 
Press  her  soft  lips  to  mine  again, 
And  drink  a  balm  to  banish  pain  I 
Alas,  alas  !  where  lies  she  now, 
My  darling  of  the  lovely  brow  ? 
On  the  cold  earth,  no  help  at  hand, 
Forlorn  amid  the  Rakshas  band, 
King  Janak's  child  still  calls  on  me, 
Her  lord  and  love,  to  set  her  free. 
But  soon  in  glory  will  she  rise 
A  crescent  moon  in  autumn  skies, 
And  thoso  dark  rovers  of  the  night, 
Like  scattered  clouds  shall  turn  in  flight/ 

CANTO  VI. 


RAVAN'S  SPEECH. 

But  \vhen  the  giant  king  surveyed 
His  glorious  town  in  ruin  laidr 
And  each  dire  sign  of  victory  won 
By  Hanuman  the  Wind-God's  son, 
He  vailed  his  angry  eyes  oppressed 
By  shame,  and  thus  his  lords  addressed : 
*The  Vanar  spy  has  passed  the  gate 
Of  Lanka  long  inviolate, 
Eluded  watch  and  ward,  and  seen 
With  his  bold  eyes  the  captive  queen. 
My  royal  roof  with  flames  is  red, 
The  bravest  of  my  lords  are  dead, 
And  the  tierce  Vanar  in  his  hate 
Has  left  our  city  desolate. 
N"ow  ponder  well  the  work  that  lies 
Before  us,  ponder  and  advise. 
With  deep-observing  judgment  scan 
The  peril,  and  mature  a  plan. 
From  counsel,  sages  say,  the  root, 


Springs  victory,  most  glorious  fruit. 

First  ranks  the  king,  when  woe  impends 

Who  seeks  the  counsel  of  his  friends, 

Of  kinsmen  ever  faithful  found, 

Or  those  whose  hopes  with  his  are  bound, 

Then  with  their  aid  his  strength  applies, 

And  triumphs  in  his  enterprise. 

Next  ranks  the  prince  who  plans  alone, 

No  counsel  seeks  to  aid  his  own, 

Weighs  loss  and  gain  and  wrong   and 

right, 

And  seeks  success  with  earnest  might. 
Un  wisest  he  who  spurns  delays, 
Who  counts  no  cost,  no  peril  weighs, 
Speeds  to  his  aim,  defying  fate, 
And  risks  his  all,  precipitate. 
Thus  too  in  counsel  sages  find 
A  best,  a  worst,  a  middle  kind. 
When  gathered  counsellors  explore 
The  way  by  light  of  holy  lore, 
And  all  from  first  to  last  agree, 
Is  the  best  counsel  of  the  three. 
Next,  if  debate  first  waxes  high, 
And  each  his  chosen  plan  would  try 
Till  all  agree  at  last,  we  deem 
This  counsel  second  in  esteem. 
Worst  of  the  three  is  this,  when  each 
Assails  with  taunt  his  fellow's  speech  "r 
When  all  debate,  and  no  consent 
Concludes  the  angry  argument. 
Consult  then,  lords  ;  my  task  shall  be 
To  crown  with  act  your  wise  decree. 
With  thousands  of  his  wild  allies 
The  vengeful  Rama  hither  hies  ; 
With  un  resisted  might  and  speed 
Across  the  flood  his  troops  will  lead, 
Or  for  the  Vanar  host  will  drain 
The  channels  of  the  conquered 


CANTO  VII. 


RAVAN  ENCOURAGED. 

He  ceased  :  they  scorned,  with  blinded 

eyes, 

The  f  oeman  and  his  bold  allies, 
Raised  reverent  hands  with  one  accord, 
And  thus  made  answer  to  their  lord  : 
'  Why  yield  thee,  King,  to  causeless  fear? 
A  mighty  host  with  sword  and  spear 
And  mace  and  axe  and  pike  and  lauce 
Waits  but  thy  signal  to  advance. 
Art  thou  not  he  who  slew  of  old 
The  Serpent-Gods,  and  stormed  their  hold; 
Scaled  Mount  Kailasa  and  o'erthrew 
Kuvera1  and  his  Yaksha  crew, 


1  The  God  of  Riches,  brother  and  enemy 
of  Ravan  and  first  possessor  of  Pushpak 
the  flyin'g  car. 


432 


TEE  RAM  AY  AN. 


SooJc  VI, 


Compelling  Siva's  haughty  friend 
Beneath  a  mightier  arm  to  bend  ? 
Didst  thou  not  bring  from  realms  afar 
The  marvel  of  the  magic  car. 
When  they  who  served  Kuvera  fell 
Crushed  in  their  mountain  citadel? 
Attracted  by  thy  matchless  fame 
To  thee,  a  suppliant,  Maya  came, 
The  lord  of  every  Danav  band, 
And  won  thee  with  his  daughter's  hand. 
Thy  arm  in  hell  itself  was  felt, 
Where  Vasuki1  and  3ankha  dwelt, 
And  they  and  Takshak,  overthrown, 
Were  forced  thy  conquering  might  to  own. 
The  Gods  in  vain  their  blessing  gave 
To  heroes  bravest  of  the  brave, 
Who  strove  a  year  and,  sorely  pressed, 
Their  victor's  peerless  might  confessed. 
In  vain  their  magic  arts  they  tried, 
In  vain  thy  matchless  arm  defied. 
King  Varun's  sons  with  fourfold  force, 
Cars,  elephants,  and  foot,  and  horse, 
But  for  a  while  thy  power  withstood, 
And.  conquered,  mourned  their  hardihood. 
Thou  hast  encountered,  face  to  face, 
King  Yama*  with  his  murdering  mace. 
Fierce  as  the  wild  tempestuous  sea, 
What  terror  had  his  wrath  for  thee, 
Though  death'in  every  threatening  form, 
And  woe  and  torment,  urged  the  storm  ? 
Thine  arm  a  glorious  victory  won 
O'er  the  dread  king  who  pities  none  ; 
And  the  three  worlds,  from  terror  freed, 
In  joyful  wonder  praised  thy  deed. 
The  tribe  of  Warriors,  strong  and  dread 
As  Indra's  self,  o'er  earth  had  spread  ; 
As  giant  trees  that  towering  stand 
In  mountain  glens,  they  filled  the  land. 
Can  Raghu's  son  encounter  foes 
Fierce,  numerous,  and  strong  as  those  ? 
Yet,  trained  in  war  and  practised  well, 
O'ermatched  by  thee,  they  fought  and  fell. 
Stay  in  thy  royal  home,  nor  care 
The  battle  and  the  toil  to  share  ; 
But  let  the  easy  fight  be  won 
By  Indrajit3  thy  matchless  son. 
All,  all  shall  die,  if  thou  permit, 
Slain  by  the  hand  of  Indrajit.1 

'  *  King  of  the  Serpents.  j$ankha  arid 
Takshak  are  two  of  the  eight  Serpent 
Chiefs. 

*  The  God  of  Death,  the  Pluto  of  the 
Hindus, 

3  Literally  Indra's  conqueror,  so  called 
from  his  victory  over  that  God, 


CANTO  VIII. 


PRAHASTA'S  SPEECH, 

Bark  as  a  cloud  of  autumn,  dread 
Prahasta  joined  his  palms  and  said  : 

4  Gandharvas,Gods,  the  hosts  who  dwell 
Jn  heaven,  in  air,  in  earth,  in  hell, 
Have  yielded  to  thy  might,  and  how 
ftliall  two  weak  men  oppose  thee  now  ? 
Hanumdn  came,  a  foe  disguised, 
And  mocked  us  heedless  and  surprised, 
Or  never  had  he  lived  to  flee 
And  boast  that  he  has  f  aught  with  me. 
Command,  O  Kins:,  and  this  right  hand 
Shall  sweep  the  Vanars  from  the  land, 
And  hill  and  dale,  to  Ocean's  shore, 
Shall  know  the  death-doomed  race   no 

more. 

But  let  my  care  the  means  devise 
To  guard  thy  city  from  surprise.' 

Then  Durrnukh  cried,  of  Rakshas  race : 
'  Too  long  we  brook  the  dire  disgrace. 
He  gave  our  city  to  the  flames, 
He  trod  the  chambers  of  thy  dames. 
Ne'er  shall  so  weak  arid  vile  a  thing 
Unpunished  brave  the  giants'  king. 
Now  shall  this  single  arm  attack 
And  drive  the  daring  Vanars  back, 
Till  to  the  winds  of  heaven  they  flee, 
Or  seek  the  depths  of  earth  and  sea.' 

Then,  brandishing  the  mace  he  bore, 
Whose  horrid  spikes  were  stained  with 

gore, 

While  fury  made  his  eyeballs  red, 
Impetuous  Vajradanshtra  said  : 

'Why  waste  a  thought  on  one  so  vile 
As  Hanuman  the  Vanar,  while 
bugriva,  Lakshman,  yet  remain, 
And  Rama  mightier  still,  unslain  ? 
This  mace  to-day  shall  crush  the  three, 
And  all  the  host  will  turn  and  flee. 
Listen,  and  I  will  speak  :  incline, 
O  King,  to  hear  these  words  of  mine, 
For  the  deep  plait  that  I  propose 
Will  swiftly  rid  thee  of  thy  foes. 
Let  thousands  of  thy  host  assume 
The  forms  of  men  in  youthful  bloom, 
In  war's  magnificent  array 
Draw  near  to  Raghu's  son,  and  say  : 
'  Thy  younger  brother  Bharat  sends 
This  army,  and  thy  cause  befriends.' 
Then  let  our  legions  hasten  near 
With  bow  and  mace  and  sword  and  spear, 
And  on  the  Vanar  army  rain 
Our  steel  and  stone  till  all  be  slain. 
If  Raghu's  sons  will  fain  believe, 
Entangled  in  the  net  we  weave, 
The  penalty  they  both  must  pay, 
And  lose  their  forfeit  lives  to-day.' 


Canto 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


433 


Then  with  his  warrior  soul  on  fire, 
Nikucnbha  spoke  in  burning  ire  : 

'  I,  only  I,  will  take  the  held, 
And  Raghu's  son  his  life  shall  yield. 
Within  these  walls,  O  Chiefs,  abide, 
Nor  part  ye  from  our  monarch's  side.' 


CANTO  IX. 

VIBHFSHAN'S  COUNSEL. 

A  score  of  warriors'  forward  sprang, 
And  loud  the  clashing  iron  rang 
Of  rnace  and  axe  and  spear  and  sword, 
As  thus  they  spake  unto  their  lord  : 
'  Their  king  Sugriva  will  we  slav, 
And  Raghu's  sons,  ere  close  of  day, 
And  strike  the  wretch  Hanuman  down, 
The  spoiler  of  our  golden  town.' 

But  sage  Vibhishan  strove  to  calm 
The  chieftains'  fury  ;  palm  to  palm 
He  joined  in  lowly  reverence,  pressed1 
Before  them,  and  the  throng  addressed  ; 

'Dismiss  the  hope  of  conquering  one 
So  stern  and  strong  as  Raghu's  son. 
In  due  control  each  sense  he  keeps 
With  constant  care  that  never  sleeps. 
Whose  daring  heart  has  e'er  conceived 
The  exploit  Hanuman  achieved, 
Across  the  fearful  sea  to  spring, 
The  tributary  rivers'  king  ? 
O  Rakshas  lords,  in  time  be  wise, 
Nor  Rama's  matchless  power  despise. 
And  say,  what  evil  had  the  son 
Of  Raghu  to  our  monarch  done, 
Who  stole  the  dame  he  loved  so  well 
And  keeps  her  in  his  citadel  ; 
If  Khara  in  his  foolish  pride 
Encountered  Rama,  fought,  and  died, 
May  not  the  meanest  love  his  life 
And  guard  it  in  the  deadly  strife  ? 


1  Their  names  are  Nikumbha,  Rabhasa, 
Suryasatru,  Suptaghna,  Yajnakopa,  Maha- 
parava,  Mahodara,  Agniketu,  Rasmiketu, 
Durdharsha,  Indrasatru,  Prahasta,  Viru- 
paksha,  Vajradanshtra,  Dhumraksha,Dur 
mukha,  Mahabala. 

14  Similarly  Antenor  urges  the  restor- 
ation of  Helen  : 

1  Let  Sparta's  treasures  be  this  hour 

restored, 
And  Argive  Helen  own  her  ancient 

lord. 

As  this  advice  ye'practise  or  reject, 
So  hope  success,  or  dread  the  dire 

e^ect,' 

POPE'S  Homer's  Iliad,  Book  VII 


The  Maithil  dame,  O  Rakshas  King, 
Sore  peril  to  thy  realm  will  bring. 
Restore  her  while  there  yet  is  time, 
tf or  let  us  perish  for  thy  c  rime. 
),  let  the  Maithil  lady  go 
Sre  the  avenger  bend  his  bow 
To  ruin  with  his  arrowy  showers 
Dur  Lanka  with  her  gates  and  towers. 
List  Janak's  child  again  be  free 
3  re  the  wild  Vanars  cross  the  sea, 
[n  their  resistless  might  assail 
Our  city  and  her  ramparts  scale. 
Ah,  I  conjure  thee  by  the  ties 
Df  brotherhood,  be  just  and  wise. 
[n  all  my  thoughts  thy  good  I  seek, 
And  thus  my  prudent  counsel  speak. 
Let  captive  Sita  be  restored 
Ere,  fierce  as  autumn's  sun,  her  lord 
Send  his  keen  arrows  from  the  string 
To  drink  the  life-blood  of  our  king. 
This  fury  from  thy  soul  dismiss, 
The  bane  of  duty,  peace,  and  bliss. 
Seek  duty's  path  and  walk  therein, 
And  joy  and  endless  glory  win. 
Restore  the  captive,  ere  we  feel 
The  piercing  point  of  Rama's  steel. 
O  spare  thy  city,  spare  the  lives 
Of  us,  our  friends,  our  sons  and  wives.' 

Thus  spake  Vibhishan  wise  and  brave: 
The  Rakshas  king  no  answer  gave, 
But  bade  his  lords  the  council  close, 
And  sought  his  chamber  for  repose. 


CANTO.    X 


VIBHISHAN'S  COUNSEL. 

Soon  as  the  light  of  morning  broke, 
Vibhishan  f  rom  his  slumber  woke, 
And,  duty  guiding  every  thought, 
The  palace  of  his  brother  sought. 
Vast  as  a  towering  hill  that  shows 
His  peaks  afar,  that  palace  rose. 
Here  stood  within  the  monarch's  gate 
Sage  nobles  skilful  in  debate. 
There  strayed  in  glittering  raiment  through 
The  courts  his  royal  retinue, 
Where  in  wild  measure  rose  and  fell 
The  music  of  the  drum  and  shell, 
And  talk  grew  loud,  and  many  a  dame 
Of  fairest  feature  went  and  came 
Through  doors  a  marvel  to  behold, 
With  pearl  inlaid  on  burning  gold  : 
Therein  Gandharvas  or  the  fleet 
Lords  of  the  storm  might  joy  to  meet. 
He  passed  within  the  wondrous  pile, 
Chief  glory  of  the  giants'  isle  : 
Thus,  ere  his  fiery  course  be  done, 
An  autumn  cloud  admits  the  sun. 


TEE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  VL 


He  heard  auspicious  voices  raise 
With  loud  accord  the  note  of  praise, 
And  sages,  deep  in  Scripture,  sing 
Each  glorious  triumph  of  the  king. 
He  saw  the  priests  in  order  stand, 
Curd,  oil,  in  every  sacred  hand  ; 
And  by  them  flowers  were  laid  and  grain, 
Due  offerings  to  the  holy  train. 
Vibhishan  to  the  monarch  bowed, 
Raised  on  a  throne  above  the  crowd  ; 
Then,  skilled  in  arts  of  soft  address, 
He  raised  his  voice  the  king  to  bless, 
And  sate  him  on  a  seat  where  he 
Full  in  his  brother's  sight  should  be. 
The  chieftain  there,  while  none  could  hear, 
Spoke  his  true  speech  for  Ravan's  ear, 
And  to  his  words  of  wisdom  lent 
The  force  of  weightiest  argument : 

'  O  brother,  hear  !  since  Rama's  queen 
A  captive  in  thy  house  has  been, 
Disastrous  omens  day  by  day 
Have  struck  our  souls  with  wild  dismay, 
No  longer  still  and  strong  and  clear 
The  flames  of  sacrifice  appear, 
But,  restless  with  the  frequent  spark, 
Keath  clouds  of  smoke  grow  faint  and  dark. 
Our  ministering  priests  turn  pale 
To  see  their  wonted  offerings  fail, 
And  ants  and  serpents  creep  and  crawl 
Within  the  consecrated  hall.1 
Dried  are  the  udders  of  our  cows, 
Our  elephants  have  juiceless  brows,2 
Nor  can  the  sweetest  pasture  stay 
The  charger's  long  unquiet  neigh. 
Big  tears  from  mules  and  camels  flow 
Whose  staring  coats  their  trouble  show, 
Nor  can  the  leech's  art  restore 
Their  health  and  vigour  as  before. 
Rapacious  birds  are  tierce  and  bold: 
Not  single  hunters  as  of  old, 
In  banded  troops  they  chase  the  prey, 
Or  gathering  on  our  temples  stay. 
Through  twilight  hours  with  shriek  and 

bowl 

Around  the  city  jackals  prowl, 
And  wolves  and  foul  hyaenas  wait 
Athirst  for  blood  at  every  gate. 
One  sole  atonement  still  may  cure 
These  evils,  and  our  weal  assure. 
Restore  the  Maithil  dame,  and  win 
An  easy  pardon  for  thy  sin.' 

1  The   Agnisdld   or    room    where    the 
sacrificial  tire  was  kept. 

2  The  exudation  of  a  fragrant  fluid  from 
the  male  elephant's  temples,  especially  at 
certain  seasons,  is  frequently  spoken  of 
in  Sanskrit  poetry.  It  is  said  to  deceive 
and  attract  the  bees,  and  is  regarded  as  a 
sign  of  health  and  masculine  vigour. 


The  Rakshas  monarch  heard,  and  moved 
To  sudden  wrath  his  speech  reproved: 

'  No  danger,  brother,  can  I  see  : 
The  Maithil  dame  I  will  not  free. 
Though  all  the  Gods  for  Rama  fight, 
He  yields  to  my  superior  might.' 
Thus  the  tremendous  king  who  broke 
The  ranks  of  heavenly  warriors  spoke, 
And,  sternly  purposed  to  resist, 
His  brother  from  the  hall  dismissed, 


CANTO  XL 


THE  SUMMONS. 

Still  Ravan's  haughty  heart  rebelled, 
The  counsel  of  the  wise  repelled, 
And,  as  his  breast  with  passion  burned, 
His  thoughts  again  to  Sita  turned. 
Thus,  to  each  sign  of  danger  blind, 
To  love  and  war  he  still  inclined. 
Then  mounted  he  his  car  that  glowed 
With  gems  and  golden  net,  and  rode 
Where,  gathered  at  the  monarch's  call, 
The  nobles  filled  the  council  hall. 
A  host  of  warriors  bright  and  gay 
With  coloured  robes  and  rich  array, 
With  shield  and  mace  and  spear  and  sword, 
Followed  the  chariot  of  their  lord. 
Mid  the  loud  voice  of  shells  and  beat 
Of  drums  he  raced  along  the  street, 
And,  ere  he  came,  was  heard  afar 
The  rolling  thunder  of  his  car. 
He  reached  the  doors  :  the  nobles  bent 
Their  heads  before  him  reverent  : 
And,  welcomed  With  theif  loud  acclaim, 
Within  the  glorious  hall  he^came. 
He  sat  upon  a  royal  seat 
With  golden  steps  beneath  his  feet, 
And  bade  the  heralds  summon  all 
His  captains  to  the  council  hall. 
The  heralds  heard  the  words  he  spake, 
And  sped  from  house  to  house  to  wake 
The  giants  where  they  slept  or  spent 
The  careless  hours  in  merriment. 
These  heard  the  summons  and  obeyed  : 
From  chamber,  grove,  and  colonnade, 
On  elephants  or  cars  they  rode, 
Or  through  the  streets  impatient  strode. 
As  birds  on  rustling  pinions  fly 
Through  regions  of  the  darkened  sky, 
Thus  cars  and  mettled  coursers  through 
The  crowded  streets  of  Lanka  flew. 
The  council  hall  was  reached,  and  then, 
As  lions  seek  their  mountain  den. 
Through  massy  doors  that  opened  wide, 
With  martial  stalk  the  captains  hied. 
Welcomed  with  honour  as  was  meet 
They  stooped  to  press  their  monarch's  feet, 


Canto  XII. 

And  each  a  place  in  order  found 
On  stool,  on  cushion,  or  the  ground. 
Nor  did  the  sage  Vibhishan  long 
Delay  to  join  the  noble  throng. 
High  on  a  car  that  shone  like  flame 
With  gold  and  flashing  gems  he  came, 
Drew  near  and  spoke  his  name  aloud, 
And  reverent  to  his  brother  bowed. 

CANTO  XII. 


RAVAN'S  SPEECH. 

The  king  in  counsel  unsurpassed 
His  eye  around  the  synod  cast, 
i  And  tierce  P rah asta,' first  and  best 
Of  all  his  captains,  thus  addressed  : 

'  Brave  master  of  each  warlike  art, 
Arouse  thee  and  perform  thy  part. 
Array  thy  fourfold  forces1  well 
To  guard  our  isle  and  citadel,' 

The  captain  of  the  hosts  obeyed, 
The  troops  with  prudent  skill  arrayed  ; 
Then  to  the  hall  again  he  hied, 
And  stood  before  the  king  and  cried  : 
'  Kach  inlet  to  the  town  is  closed 
"Without,  within,  are  troops  disposed. 
With  fearless  heart  thine  aim  pursue 
And  do  the  deed  thou  hast  in  view.' 

Thus  spoke  Prahasta  in  the  zeal 
That  moved  him  for  the  kingdom's  weal. 
And  thus  the  monarch,  who  pursued 
His  own  delight,  his  speech  renewed  : 
*In  ease  and  bliss,  in  toil  and  pain, 
In  doubts  of  duty,  pleasure,  gain, 
Your  proper  path  I  need  not  tell. 
For  of  yourselves  ye  know  it  well. 
The  Storm-Gods,  Moon,  and  planets  bring 
New  glory  to  their  heavenly  king,* 
And,  ranged  about  your  monarch,  ye 
Give  joy  and  endless  fame  to  me. 
My  secret  counsel  have  I  kept, 
While  senseless  Kumbhakarna  slept. 
Six  months  the  warrior's  slumbers  last 
And  bind  his  torpid  senses  fast ; 
But  now  his  deep  repose  he  breaks, 
The  best  of  all  our  champions  wakes. 
I  captured,  Rama's  heart  to  wring, 
This  daughter  of  Videha's  king. 
And  brought  her  from  that  distant  land3 
Where  wandered  many  a  Rakshas  band. 

1  Consisting  of  warriors  on  elephants, 
warriors  in     chariots,     charioteers,   and 
infantry. 

2  Indra,  generally  represented  as  sur- 
rounded by  the  Maruts  or  Storm-Gods. 

3  Janasthan,  where  Rama  lived  as  an 
ascetic. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN.  435 

Disdainful  still  my  love  she  spurns. 

Still  from  each  prayer  and  offering  turns. 

Yet  in  all  lands  beneath  the  sun 

No  dame  may  rival  Sita,  none, 

Her  dainty  waist  is  round  and  slight, 

Her  cheek  like  autumn's  moon  is  bright. 

And  she  like  fruit  in  graven  gold 

Mocks  her1  whom  Maya  framed  of  old. 

Faultless  in  form,  how  firmly  tread 

Her  feet  whose  soles  are  rosy  red ! 

Ah,  as  I  gaze  her  beauty  takes 

My  spirit,  and  my  passion  wakes. 

Looking  for  Rama  far  away 

She  sought  with  tears  a  year's  delay, 

Nor  gazing  on  her  love -lit  eye 

Could  I  that  earnest  prayer  deny. 

But  baffled  hopes  and  vain  desire 

At  length  my  patient  spirit  tire. 

How  shall  the  sons  of  Raghu  sweep 

To  vengeance  o'er  the  pathless  deep  ? 

How  shall  they  lead  the  Vanar  traiu 

Across  the  monster- teeming  main  ? 

One  Vanar  yet  could  find  a  way 

To  Lanka's  town,  and  burn  and  slay. 

Take  counsel  then,  remembering  still 

That  we  from  men  need  fear  no  ill ; 

And  give  your  sentence  in  debate, 

For  matchless  is  the  power  of  fate. 

Assailed  by  you  the  Gods  who  dwell 

In  heaven  beneath  our  fury  fell. 

And  shall  we  fear  these  creatures  bred 

In  forests,  by  Sugriva  led? 

E'en  now  on  ocean's  farther  strand, 

The  sons  of  Dasaratha  stand. 

And  follow,  burning  to  attack 

Their  giant  foes,  on  Sita's  track. 

Consult  then,  lords  for  ye  are  wise  : 

A  seasonable  plan  devise, 

The  captive  lady  to  retain, 

And  triumph  when  the  foes  are  slam. 

No  power  can  bring  across  the  foam 

Those  Vanars  to  our  island  home  ; 

Or  if  they  madly  will  defy 

Our  conquering  might,  they  needs  must 

die,' 

Then  Kumbhakarna' s  anger  woke, 
And  wroth  at  Ravau's  words  he  spoke,: 
'  O  Monarch,  when  thy  ravished  eyes 
First  looked  upon  thy  lovely  prize, 
Then  was  the  time  to  bid  us  scan 
Each  peril  and  mature  a  plan. 
Blest  is  the  king  who  acts  with  heed, 
And  ne'er  repents  one  hasty  deed  ; 
And  hapless  he  whose  troubled  soul 
Mourns  over  days  beyond  control. 

1  Maya,  regarded  as  the  paragon  of 
female  beauty,  was  the  creation  of  Maya 
the  chief  artificer  of  the  Daityas  or 
Danavs, 


436 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole   VI 


Thou  hast,  in  beauty's  toils  ensnared, 
A  desperate  deed  of  boldness  dared  ; 
By  fortune  saved  ere  Rama's  steel 
One  wound,  thy  mortal  bane,  could  deal, 
But,  Ravan,  as  the  deed  is  done, 
The  toil  of'war  I  will  not  shun. 
This  arm,  O  rover  of  the  night, 
Thy  foemen  to  the  earth  shall  smite, 
Though  Indra  with  the  Lord  of  Flame, 
The  Sun  and  Storms,  against  me  came. 
E'en  Indra,  monarch  of  the  skies, 
"Would  dread  my  club  and  mountain  size, 
Shrink  from,  these   teeth  and  quake  to 

hear 

The  thunders  of  my  voice  of  fear. 
No  second  dart  *hal!  Kama  cast : 
The  first  he  aims  shall  be  the  last. 
He  falls,  and  these  dry  lips  shall  drain 
The  blood  of  him  my  hand  has  siain  ; 
And  Sita,  when  her  champion  dies, 
Shall  be  thine  undisputed  prize.' 

CANTO  XIII. 
BAVAN'S  SPEECH. 

But  Mahaparsva  saw  the  sting 
Of  keen  reproach  had  galled  the  king  ; 
And  humbly,  eager  to  appease 
His  anger,  spoke  in  words  like  these  : 
'  And  breathes  there  one  so  cold  and  , 

weak 

The  forest  and  the  gloom  to  seek 
Where  savage  beasts  abound,  and  spare 
To  taste  the  luscious  honey  there? 
Art  thou  not  lord  ?  and  who  is  he 
Shall  venture  to  give  laws  to  thee  ? 
Love  thy  Videhan  still,  and  tread 
Upon  thy  prostrate  fceman's  head. 
O'er  Sita's  will  let  thine  prevail, 
And  strength  achieve  if  flattery  fail. 
What  though  the  lady  yet  be  coy 
And  turn  her  from  the  proffered  joy  ? 
Soon  shall  her  conquered  heart  relent 
And  yield  to  love  and  blandishment. 
With  us  let  Kumbhakarna  fight, 
And  Indrajit  of  matchless  might. 
We  need  not  other  champions  :  they 
Shall  lead  us  forth  to  rout  and  slay.. 
Not  ours  to  bribe  or  soothe  or  part 
The'.foeman's  force  with  gentle  art, 
Doomed,  conquered  by  our  might,  to  feel 
The  vengeance  of  the  warrior's  steel.' 

The  Rakfchas  monarch  heard,  and  moved 
By  flattering  hopes  the  speech  approved  : 

'  Hear  me,'  he  cried,  *  great  chieftain,  tell 
What  in  the  oiden  time  befell,— 
A  secret  tale  which,  long  suppressed, 
Lies  prisoned  only  in  my  breast. 
One  day—a  day  I  never  forget- 


Fair  Punjikasthala1  I  met, 

When,  radiant  as  a  flame  of  fire, 

She  sought  the  palace  of  the  Sire. 

In  passion's  eager  grasp  I  tore 

From  her  sweet  limbs  the  robes  she  Avore,, 

And  heedless  of  her  prayers  and  cries 

Strained  to  my  breast  the  vanquised  prize 

Like  Nalini2  with  soil  distaiued. 

The  mansion  of  the  Sire  she  gained, 

And  weeping  made  the  outrage  known 

To  Brahm&  on  his  heavenly  throne. 

He  in  his  wrath  pronounced  a  curse, — 

That  lord  who  made  the  universe: 

'  If,  Ravan,  thou  a  second  time 

Be  guilty  of  so  foul  a  crime, 

Thy  head  in  shivers  shall  be  rent : 

Be  warned,  and  dread  the  punishment. 

Awed  by  the  threat  of  vengeance  still 

I  force  not  Sita's  stubborn  will, 

Terrific  as  the  sea  in  might ; 

My  steps  are  like  the  Storm-Gods'  flight ; 

But  Rama  knows  not  thin,  or  he 

Had  never  sought  to  war  with  me. 

Where  is  the  man  would  idly  brave 

The  lion  in  his  mountain  cave, 

And  wake  him  when  with  slumbering  eye 

Grim,  terrible  as  Death,  he  lies  ? 

No,  blinded  Rama  knows  me  not : 

Ne'er  has  he  seen  mine  arrows  shot ; 

Ne'er  marked  them  speeding  to  their  aim 

Like  snakes  with  cloven  tongues  of  flame 

On  him  those  arrows  will  I  turn, 

Whose  fiery  points  shall  rend  and  burn. 

Quenched  by  my  power  when  I  assail 

The  glory  of  his  might  shall  fail, 

As  stars  before  the  sun  grow  dim 

Arid  yield  their  feeble  light  to  him.' 

CANTO  XIV. 
VIBHISHAN'S  SPEECH. 

He  ceased  :  Vibhishan  ill  at  ease 
Addressed  the  king  in  words  like  these  : 

'  O  Kavan,  O  niy  lord,  beware 
Of  SH&  dangerous  as  fair, 
Nor  on  thy  heedless  bosom  hang 
This  serpent  with  a  deadly  fang. 
O  King,  the  Maithil  dame  restore 
To  Raghu's  matchless  son  before 
Those  warriors  of  the  woodlands,  vast 
As  mountain  peaks,  approaching  fast, 
Armed  with  fierce  teeth  and  claws,  enclos 
Thy  city  with  unsparing  foes. 
O,  be  the  Maitbil  dame  restored 
Ere  loosened  from  the  clanging  cord 

1  One  of  the  Nymphs  of  Indra's  heaver 
52  The  Lotus  Eiver,  a  branch  of  the  hea 
venly  Ganga.. 


Canto  XV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


437 


The  vengeful  shafts  of  Rama  fly, 
And  low  in  death  thy  princes  lie. 
In  all  thy  legions  hast  thou  one 
A  match  in  war  for  Raghu's  son  ? 
Can  Kumbhakarna'a  self  withstand, 
Or  Indrajit,  that  mighty  hand? 
In  vain  with  Rama  wilt  thou  strive : 
Thou  wilt  not  save  thy  soul  alive 
Though  gunrded  by  the  Lord  of  Day 
And  S to rm -Gods'  terrible  array, 
In  vain  to  Indra  wilt  thou  fly, 
Or  seek  protection  in  the  sky, 
In  Yarna's  gloomy  mansion  dwell, 
Or  hide  thee  in  the  depths  of  hell.7 

He  ceased  :  and  when  his  lips  were  closed 
Prahasta  thus  his  rede  opposed  : 

'  O  timid  heart,  to  counsel  thus  ! 
What  terrors  have  the  Gods  for  us? 
Can  snake,  Gendharva,  fiend  appal 
The  giants'  sons  who  scorn  them  all  ? 
And  shall  we  now  our  birth  disgrace, 
And  dread  a  king  <;f  human  race  ? ' 
Thus  fierce  Prahasta  counselled  ill  : 
But  sage  Vibhishan's  constant  will 
The  safety  of  the  realm  ensued  ; 
Who  thus  in  turn  his  speech  renewed  : 

'  Yes,  when  a  soul  defiled  with  sin 
Shall  mount  to  heaven  and  enter  in, 
Then,  chieftain,  will  experience  teach 
The  truth  of  thy  disdainful  speech. 
Can  I,  or  thou,  or  these  or  all 
Our  bravest  compass  Rama's  fall, 
The  chief  in  whom  all  virtues  shine, 
The  pride  of  old  Ikshvaku's  line, 
With  whom  the  Gods  may  scarce  compare 
In  skill  to  act,  in  heart  to  dare  ? 
Yea,  idly  mayst  thou  vaunt  thee,  till 
Sharp  arrows*  winged  with  matchless  skill 
From  Rama's  bowstring,  fleet  and  fierce 
As  lightning's  flame,  thy  body  pierce. 
Nikumbha  shall  not  pave  thee  then, 
Nor  Kavan,  from  the  lord  of  men. 
O  Monarch,  hear  my  last  appeal, 
My  counsel  for  thy  kingdom's  weal. 
This  sentence  I  again  declare  : 
O  giant  King,  beware,  beware ! 
Save  from  the  ruin  that  impends 
Thy  town,  thy  people,  and  thy  friends  ; 
O  hear  the  warning  urged  once  more: 
To  Kaghu's  son  the  dame  restore.' 


CANTO  XV. 

INDRAJIT'S  SPEECH. 

He  ceased  :  and  Indrajit  the  pride 
Of  Rakshas  warriors  thus  replied  : 

*  Is  thia  a  speech  our  king  should  hear, 
This  counsel  of  ignoble  fear  2 


A  scion  of  our  gloriuos  race 
Should  ne'er  conceive  a  thought  so  base, 
But  one  mid  all  our  kin  we  find. 
Vibhishan,  whose  degenerate  mind 
No  spark  of  gallant  pride  retains, 
Whose  coward  soul  his  lineage  stains, 
Against  one  giant  what  can  two 
Unhappy  sons  of  Baghn  do  ? 
Away  with  idle  fears,  away ! 
Matched  with  our  meanest,  what  are  they  * 
Beneath  my  conquering  prowess  fell 
The  Lord  of  earth  and  heaven  and  hell.1 
Through  every  startled  region  dread 
Of  my  resistless  fury  spread  ; 
And  Gods  in  each  remotest  sphere 
Confessed  the  universal  fear. 
Bending  the  air  with  roar  and  groan, 
Airavt*  to  the  earth  was  thrown. 
From  his  huge  head  the  tusks  I  drew, 
And  smote  the  Gods  with  fear  anew. 
Shall  I  who  tame  celestials1  pride, 
By  whom  the  fiends  are  terrified, 
Now  prove  a  weakling  little  worth, 
And  fail  to  slay  those  sons  of  earth  ?' 

He  ceased  :  Vibhishan  trained  and  tried 
In  war  and  counsel  thus  replied  : 

'  Thy  speech  is  marked  with  scorn  of 

truth, 

With  rashness  and  the  pride  of  youth. 
Yea,  to  thy  ruin  like  a  child 
Thou  pratest,  and  thy  words  are  wild. 
Most  dear,  0  Indrajit.  to  thee 
Should  Ravan's  weal  and  safety  be, 
For  thou  art  called  his  son,  but  thou 
Art  proved  his  direst  foeman  now, 
When  warned  by  me  thou  hast  not  tried 
To  turn  the  coming  woe  aside. 
Both  thee  and  him  'twere  meet  to  slay, 
Who  brought  thee  to  this  hall  to-day, 
And  dared  so  rash  a  youth  admit 
To  council  where  the  wisest  sit. 
Presumptuous,  wild,  devoid  of  sense, 
Filled  full  of  pride  and  insolence, 
Thy  reckless  tongue  thou  wilt  not  rule 
That  speaks  the  counsel  of  a  fool. 
Who  in  the  fight  may  brook  or  shun 
The  arrows  shot  by  Raghu's  son 
With  flame  and  fiery  vengeance  sped, 
Dire  as  his  staff  who  rules  the  dead  ? 
0  Ravan,  let  thy  people  live, 
And  to  the  son  of  Baghugive 
Fair  robes  and  gems  and  precious  ore, 
And  Sita  to  his  arms  restore.' 

1  Trilokandtka,     Lord   of    the    Three 
Worlds,  is  a  title  of  Indra. 

a  The    celestial  elephant  that  carrie* 
Indra, 


433 


THE  RAMAYAN, 


Eoolc  VL 


CANTO  XVI. 


TUVAN'S  SPEECH. 

Then,  while  his  breast  with  fury  swelled, 
Thus  Ravan  spoke,  as  fate  impelled  : 

'  Better  with  foes  thy  dwelling  make, 
Or  house  thee  with  the  venorned  snake, 
Than  live  with  false  familiar  friends 
Who  further  still  thy  f oeman's  ends. 
I  know  their  treacherous  mood,  I  know 
Their  secret  triumph  at  thy  woe. 
They  in  their  inward  hearts  despise 
The  brave,  the  noble,  and  the  wise, 
Grieve  at  their  bliss  with  rancorous  hate, 
And  for  their  sorrows  watch  and  wait : 
Scan  every  fault  with  curious  eye, 
And  each  slight  error  magnify. 
Ask  elephants  who  roam  the  wild 
How  were  their  captive  friends  beguiled. 
'For  fire,'  they  cry,  <vve  little  care, 
For  javelin  and  shaft  and  snare  : 
Our  foes  are  traitors,  taught  to  bind 
The  trusting  creatures  of  their  kind.' 
Still,  still,  shall  blessings  flow  from  cows,  • 
And  Brahmans  love  their  rigorous  vows  ; 
Still  woman  change  her  restless  will, 
And  friends  perfidious  work  us  ill. 
What  though  with  conquering  feet  I  tread 
On  every  prostrate  f  oeman's  head  ; 
What  though  the  worlds  in  abject  fear 
Their  mighty  lord  in  me  revere  ? 
This  thought  my  peace  of  mind  destroyg 
And  robs  me  of  expected  joys, 
The  lotus  of  the  lake  receives 
The  glittering  rain  that  gems  its  leaves, 
But  each  bright  drop  remains  apart : 
So  is  it  still  with  heart  and  heart, 
Deceitful  as  an  autumn  cloud 
Which,  though  ifcs  thunderous  voice  be 

loud, 

On  the  dry  earth  no  torrent  sends, 
Such  is  the  race  of  faithless  friends. 
No  riejies  of  the  bloomy  spray 
Will  tempt  the  wandering  bee  to  stay 
That  loves  from  flower  to  flower  to  range  ; 
And  friends  like  thee  are  swift  to  change. 
Thou  blot  upon  thy  glorious  line, 
If  any  giant's  tongue  but  thine 
Had  dared  to  give  this  base  advice, 
He  should  not  live  to  shame  me  twice.' 

Then  just  Vibhishan  in  the  heat 
Of  anger  started  from  his  seat, 
And  with  four  captains  of  the  band 
Sprang  forward  with  his  mace  in  hand  ; 
Then,  fury  flashing  from  his  eye, 
Looked  on  the  king  and  made  reply  : 

1  As  producers  of  the  ffhi,  clarified  but- 
ter  or  sacrificial  oil,  used  in  fire •  offer ngs, 


'  Thy  rights,  O  Ravan,  I  allow : 
My  brother  and  mine  elder  thou. 
Such,  though  from  duty's  path  they  stray, 
We  love  like  fathers  and  obey, 
But  still  too  bitter  to  be  borne 
Is  thy  harsh  speech  of  cruel  saorn. 
The  rash  like  thee,  who  spurn  control, 
Nor  check  one  longing  of  the  soul, 
Urged  by  malignant  fate  repel 
Tiie  faithful  friend  who  counsels  well, 
A  thousand  courtiers  wilt  thou  meet, 
With  flattering  lips  of  smooth  deceit: 
But  rare  are  they  whose  tongue  or  ear 
Will  speak  the  bitter  truth,  or  hear. 
Unclose  thy  blinded  eyes  and  see 
That  snares  of  death  encompass  thee. 
I  dread,  my  brother,  to  behold 
The  shafts  of  Rama,  bright  with  gold, 
Flash  fury  through  the  air,  and  red 
With  fires  of  vengeance  strike  thee  dead. 
Lord,  brother,  King,  again  reflect, 
Nor  this  mine  earnest  prayer  reject, 
O,  save  thyself,  thy  royal  town, 
Thy  people  and  thine  old  renown,' 

CANTO  XVII. 


VIBHISHAN'S  FLIGHT. 

Soon  as  his  bitter  words  were  said, 

To  Kaghu's  sons  Vibhishan  fled.1 

Their  eyes  the  Vanar  leaders  raised 

And  on  the  air-borne  Rakhshas  gazed, 

Bright  as  a  thunderbolt,  in  size 

Like  Melon's  peak  that  cleaves  the  skies, 

In  gorgeous  panoply  arrayed 

Like  Indra's  self  he  stood  displayed, 

And  four  attendants  brave  and  bold 

Shone  by  their  chief  in  mail  and  gold, 

Sugriva  then  with  dark  surmise 

Bent  on  their  forms  his  wondering  eyes, 

And  thus  in  hasty  words  confessed 

The  anxious  doubt  that  moved  his  breast; 

'  Look,  look  ye  Vanars,  and  beware  : 
That  giant  chief  sublime  in  air 
With  other  four  in  bright  array 
Comes  armed  to  conquer  and  to  slay.' 


1  This  dessertion  to  the  enemy  is  some- 
what abrupt,  and  is  narrated  with  brevity 
not  usual  with  Valmild.  In  the  Bengal 
recension  the  preceding  speakers  and 
speeches  differ  considerably  from  those 
given  in  the  text  which  I  follow.  Vibhishau 
is  kicked  from  his  seat  by  Ravan,  and 
then,  after  telling  his  mother  what  has 
happened,  he  flies  to  Mount.  Kailasa 
where  he  has  an  interview  with  Siva,  and 
by  his  advice  seeks  Rama  and  the  Vanar 
army, 


Canto  XVI L 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


489 


Soon  as  his  warning  speech  they  heard, 
The  Vanar  chieftains  undeterred 
Seized  fragments  of  the  rock  and  trees, 
And  made  reply  in  words  like  these  : 
"  We  wait  thy  word :  the  order  give, 
And  these  thy  foes  shall  cease  to  live. 
Command  us,  mighty  King,  and  all 
Lifeless  upon  the  earth  shall  fall/ 

Meanwhile  Vibhishan  with  the  four 
Stood  high  above  the  ocean  shore. 
Sugriva  and  the  chiefs  he  spied, 
.And  raised  his  mighty  voice  and  cried  : 
"From  Ravan,  lord  of  giants,  1 
His  brother,  named  Vibhishan,  fly. 
From  Janasthan  he  stole  the  child 
Of  Janak  by  his  art  beguiled, 
And  in  his  palace  locked  and  barred 
Surrounds  her  with  a  Rakshas  guard. 
I  bade  him,  plied  with  varied  lore, 
His  hapless  prisoner  restore. 
But  he,  by  Fate  to  ruin  sent, 
No  credence  to  my  counsel  lent, 
Mad  as  the  fevered  wretch  who  sees 
And  scorns  the  balm  to  bring  him  ease. 
He  scorned  the  sage  advice  I  gave, 
He  spurned  me  like  a  base-born  slave. 
I  left  my  children  and  my  wife, 

nd  fly  to  Raghu's  son  for  life. 

pray  thee,  Vanar  chieftain,  speed 
To  him  who  saves  in  hour  of  need, 
knd  tell  him  famed  in  distant  lands 

bat  suppliant  here  Vibhishan  stands.' 

The  Rtikshas  ceased  :  Sugriva  hied    • 
l?o  Raghu's  noble  son  and  cried  : 

'  A  stranger  from  the  giant  host, 
Some  o'er  the  sea,  has  reached  the  coast  ; 
\  secret  foe,  he  comes  to  slay. 
Is  owls  attack  their  heedless  prey. 
Tis  thine,  O  King,  in  time  of  need 
^o  watch,  to  counsel,  and  to  lead, 
)ur  Vanar  legions  to  dispose, 
\.nd  guard  us  from  our  crafty  foes. 
Vibhishan  from  the  giants'  isle, 
ting  R& van's  brother,  comes  with  guile, 
Vnd,  feigning  from  his  king  to  flee, 
Seeks  refuge,  Raghu's  son,  with  thee. 
\rise,  O  Rama,  and  prevent 
:>y  bold  attack  his  dark  intent, 
Who  comes  in  friendly  gu^se  prepared 
['o  slay  thee  by  his  arts  ensnared.' 

Thus  urged  Sugriva  famed  for  lore 
Df  moving  words,  and  spoke  no  more, 
"hen  Rama  thus  in  turn  addressed 
?he  bold  Hanuman  and  the  rest : 
Chiefs  of  the  Vanar  legions,  each 
}f  you  has  heard  Sugriva's  speech. 
Vhat  think  ye  now  1  In  time  of  fear, 
Vhen  peril  and  distress  are  near, 
n  every  doubt  the  wise  depend 
'or  counsel  on  a  faithful  friend.' 


They  heard  his  gracious  words,  and  then 
Spake  reverent  to  the  lord  of  men  ; 
'  0  Raghu's  son,  thou  knowest  well 
All  things  of  heaven  and  earth  and  hell. 
'Tis  but  thy  friendship  bids  us  speak 
The  counsel  Rama  need  not  seek. 
So  duteous,  brave,  and  true  art  thou, 
Heroic,  faithful  to  thy  vow. 
Deep  in  the  scriptures,  trained  and  tried, 
Still  in  thy  friends  wilt  thou  confide. 
Let  each  of  us  in  turn  impart 
The  secret  counsel  of  his  heart, 
And  strive  to  win  his  chief's  assent. 
By  force  of  wisest  argument.' 

They  ceased  and  Angad  thus  began  : 
'  With  jealous  eye  the  stranger  scan  : 
Not  yet  with  trusting  heart  receive 
Vibhishan,  nor  his  tale  believe. 
These  giants  wandering  far  and  wide 
Their  evil  nature  falsely  hide, 
And  watching  with  malignant  skill 
Assail  us  when  we  fear  no  ill. 
Well  ponder  every  hope  and  fear 
Until  thy  doubtful  course  be  clear  ; 
Then  own  his  merit  or  detect 
His  guile,  and  welcome  or  reject.' 

Then  $arabha  the  bold  and  brave 
In  turn  his  prudent  sentence  gave  : 
*  Yea,  Rama,  send  a  skilful  spy 
With  keenest  tact  to  test  and  try. 
Then  let  the  stranger,  as  is  just,' 
Obtain  or  be  refused  thy  trust.' 

Then  he  whose  heart  was  rich  in  store 
Of  scripture's  life-directing  lore, 
King  Jambavan,  stood  forth  and  cried  : 
4  Suspect,  suspect  a  foe  allied 
With  Ravan  lord  of  Lanka's  isle, 
And  Rakshas  sin  and  Rakshas  guile.' 

Then  Mainda,  wisest  chief,  who  knew 
The  wrong,  the  right,  the  false,  the  true, 
Pondered  a  while,  then  silence  broke, 
And  thus  his  sober  counsel  spoke  : 

*  Let  one  with  gracious  speech  draw  near 
And  gently  charm  Vibhishan's  ear, 
Till  he  the  soothing  witchery  feel 
And  all  his  secret  heart  reveal. 
So  thou  his  aims  and  hopes  shalt  know, 
And  hail  the  friend  or  shun  the  foe.' 

'  Not  he.'  Hanuman  cried,  'not  he 
Who  taught  the  Gods1  may  rival  thee, 
Supreme  in  power  of  quickest  sense, 
First  in  the  art  of  eloquence. 
But  hear  me  soothly  speak,  O  King, 
And  learn  the  hope  to  which  I  cling. 
Vibhishan  comes  no  crafty  spy  : 
Urged  by  his  brother's  fault  to  fly, 
With  righteous  soul  that  loathes  the  sin, 
He  fled  from  Lanka  and  his  kiu. 

1  Vrihaspati  the-preceptor  of  the  Gods. 


440 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


Boole 


If  strangers  question,  doubt  will  rise 
And  cbill  the  heart  of  one  so  wise. 
Marred  by  distrust  (he  parle  will  end, 
And  thou  wilt  lose  a  faithful  friend. 
Nor  let  it  seem  so  light  a  thing 
To  sound  a  stranger's  heart,  O  King. 
And  he,  I  ween,  whate'er  he  say, 
Will  ne'er  an  evil  thought  betray. 
He  conies  a  friend  in  happy  time, 
Loathing  his  brother  for  his  crime. 
His  ear  has  heard  thine  old  renown, 
The  might  that  struck  King  Bali  down, 
And  set  Sugriva  on  the  throne, 
And  looking  now  to  thee  alone 
He  comes  thy  matchless  aid  to  win 
And  punish  Ravan  for  his  sin. 
Thus  have  I  tried  thy  heart  to  move, 
And  thus  Vibhishan 's  truth  to  prove. 
Still  in  his  friendship  I  confide  ; 
But  ponder,  wisest,  and  decide.' 

CANTO  XVIII. 

RAMA'S  SPEECH, 

Then  Kama's  rising  doubt  was  stilled, 
And  friendly  thoughts  his  bosom  filled. 
Thus,  deep  in  Scripture's  lore,  he  spake  : 
'  The  suppliant  will  I  ne'er  forsake, 
Nor  my  protecting  aid  refuse 
When  one  in  name  of  friendship  sues. 
Though  faults  and  folly  blot  his  fame, 
Pity  and  help  he  still  may  claim.' 

He  ceased  :  Sugriva  bowed  his  head 
And  pandered  for  a  while,  and  said  : 

'Past  number  be  his  faults  or  few, 
What  think  ye  of  the  R&kshas  who, 
When  threatening  clouds  of  danger  rise, 
Deserts  his  brother's  side  and  flies? 
Say,  Vanar!?,  who  may  hope  to  find 
True  friendship  in  his  faithless  kind  ?* 

The  son  of  Raghu  heard  his  speech  : 
He  cast  a  hasty  look  on  each 
Of  those  brave  V&nar  chiefs,  and  while 
Upon  his  lips  there  played  a  smile, 
To  Lakshman  turned  and  thus  expressed 
The  thoughts    that   moved    his    gallant 

breast : 

4  Well  versed  in  Scripture's  lore,  and  sage, 
And  dul^  reverent  to  age, 
Is  he,  with  long  experience  stored, 
Who  counsels  like  this  Vanar  lord. 
Yet  here,  methinks,  for  searching  eyes 
Some  deeper,  subtler  matter  lies. 
To  you  and  all  the  world  are  known 
The  perils  of  a  monarch's  throne, 
While  foe  and  stranger,  kith  and  kin 
By  his  misfortune  trust  to  win. 
By  hope  of  such  advantage  led, 
Vibhishan  o'er  the  seu  has  fled, 


He  in  his  brother's  stead  would  reign, 
And  our  alliance  seeks  to  g^in  ;• 
And  we  his  offer  may  embrace, 
A  stranger  and  of  alien  race. 
Hut  if  he  comes  a  spy  and  foe, 
What  power  has  he  to  strike  a  blow 
In  furtherance  of  his  close  design  / 
What  is  his  strength  compared  with  mine 
And  can  I,  Vunar  King,  forget 
The  great,  the  universal  debt, 
Ever  to  aid  and  welcome  those 
Who  pray  for  shelter,  friends  or  foes? 
Hast  thou  not  heard  the  deathless  praise 
Won  by  the  dove  in  olden  days, 
Who  conquering  his  fear  and  hate 
Welcomed  tho  slayer  of  his  mate, 
And  gave  a  banquet,  to  refresh 
The  weary  fowler,  of  his  flesh? 
Now  hear  me.  Vunar  King,  rehearse 
What  Kandu1  spoke  in  ancient  verse, 
Saint  Kanva's  son  who  loved  the  truth 
And  clave  to  virtue  from  his  youth  : 
'  Strike  not  the  suppliant  when  he  stand 
And  asks  thee  with  beseeching  hands 
For  shelter  :  strike  him  not  although 
He  were  thy  father's  mortal  foe. 
No,  yield  him,  be  he  proud  or  meek, 
The  shelter  which  he  comes  to  seek, 
And  save  thy  foeman,  if  the  deed 
Should  cost  thy  life,  in  desperate  need.' 
And  shall  I  hear  the  wretched  cry, 
And  my  protecting  aid  deny  ? 
Shall  1  a  suppliant's  prayer  refuse, 
And  heaven  and  glory  basely  lose  I 
No,  I  will  do  for  honour  sake 
E'en  as  the  holy  Kandu  spake, 
Preserve  a  hero's  name  from  stain, 
And  bliss  in  heaven  and  glory  gam. 
Pound  by  a  solemn  vow  1  svyare 
That  all  my  saving  help  should  share 
Who  sought  me  in  distress  and  cried, 
4  Thou  art  my  hope,  and  none  beside.' 
Then  go,  I  pray  thee,  Vanar  King, 
Vibhishan  to  my  presence  bring. 
Yea,  were  he  Ravan's  self,  my  vow 
Forbids  me  to  reject  him  now.' 

He  ceased  :  the  Vanar  king  approved 
And  Rama  toward  Vibhishan  moved. 
So  move?,  a  brother  God  to  gVeet, 
Lord  Indra  from  his  heavenly  seat. 


In  Book  II.  Canto  XXI,  Kandu  is  mi 
tioned  by  Rama  as  an  example  of  fil 
obedience.  At  the  command  of  his  fatJ 
he  is  said  to  have  killed  a  cow, 


Canto  XX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


441 


CANTO  XIX. 


VIBHISHAN'S  COUNSEL. 

When  Raghu's  son  had  o.wned  his  claim 
Down  from  the  air  Vibhishan  came, 
And  with  his  four  attendants  bent 
At  Rama's  feet  most  reverent. 

'  0  Rama,'  thus  he  cried,  'in  me 
Vibhishan  Ravan'a  brother  see. 
By  him  disgraced  thine  aid  I  seek, 
Sure  refuge  of  the  ppor  and  weak. 
From  Lanka,  friends;  and  wealth  I  fly. 
And  reft  of  all  on  thee  rely." 
On.thee,  the  wretch's  firmest  friend, 
}}y  kingdom,  joys,  and  life  depend.' 

With  glance  of  favour  Rama  eyed 
The  Rakshas  chief  and  thus  replied  : 

'  First  from  thy  lips  I  fain  would  hear 
Each  brighter  hope,  each. darker  fear. 
Speak,  stranger,  that  I  well  may  know 
The  strength  and  weakness  of  the  foe.' 

He  ceased  :  the  Rakshas  chief  obeyed, 
And  thus  in  turn  his  answer  made  : 

'O  Prince,  the  Self-existent  gave 
This  boon  to  Ravan  ;  he  may  brave 
All  foes  in  fight ;  no  fiend  or  snake, 
Gandharva.  God,  his  life  may  take. 
His  brother  Kunibhakarna  vies 
In  might  with  him  who  rules  the  skies. 
The  captain  of  his  armies — fame 
Perhaps  has  taught  the  warrior's  name — 
Is  terrible  Prahasta,  who 
King  Manibhadra's1  self  o'erthrew. 
Where  is  the  warrior  found  to  face 
Young  Indrajit,  when  armed  with  brace 
And  zuattt?  and  bow-he  stands  in  mail 
And  laughs  at  spear  and  arrowy  hail? 
Within  his  city  Lanka  dwell 
Ten  million  giants  fierce  and  fell, 
Who  wear  each  varied  shape  at  will 
And  eat  the  flesh  of  those  they  kill. 
These  hosts  against  the  Gods  he  led. 
And  heavenly  might  discomfited.' 

Then  Rama  cried  :  'I  little  heed 
Gigantic  strength  or  doughty  deed. 
In  spite  of  all  their  might  has- done 
The  king,  the  captain,  and  the  son 
Shall  fall  beneath  my  fury  dead, 
:And  thou  shalt  reign  in  Ravan's  stead, 
He,  though  in  depths  of  earlh  he  dwell, 
Or  seek  protection  down  in  hell, 


1  A  King  of  the  Yakshas,  or  Kuvera 
himself,  the  God  of  Gold. 

54  The  brace  protects  the  left  arm  from 
injury  from  the  bow-string,  and  the  guard 
protects  the  fingers  of  the  right  hand, 


Or  kneel  before  the  Sire  supreme, 
His  forfeit  life  shall  ne'er  redeem. 
Yea,  by  my  brothers'  lives  I  swear, 
I  will  not  to  my  home  repair 
Till  Ravan  and  his  kith  and  kin 
Have  paid  in  death  the  price  of  sin.' 

Vibhishan  bowed  his  head  and  cried: 
*  Thy  conquering  army  will  I  guide 
To  storm  the  city  of  the  foe, 
And  aid  the  tyrant's  overthrow.' 
Thus  spake  Vibhishan  :  Rama  pressed 
The  Rakshas  chieftain  to  his  breast, 
And  cried  to  Lakshman  :  '  Haste  and  bring 
Sea-water  for  the  new-made  king.' 
He  sp9ke,  and  o'er  Vibkishan's  head 
The  consecrating  drops  were'shed 
Mid  shouts  that  hailed  with  one  accord 
The  giants'  king  and  Lanka's  lord. 

*Is  there  no  way,'  Hanuman  cried, 
'  No  passage  o'er  the  boisterous  tide  I 
How  may  we  lead  the  Vanar  host 
In  triumph  to  the  farther  coast  ?' 
'Thus,'  said  Vibhishan,  « I  advise  : 
Let  Raghu's  son  in  suppliant  guise 
Entreat  the  mighty  Sea  to  lend 
His  succour  and  this  cause  befriend, 
His  channels,  as  the  wise  have  told, 
By  Sagar's  sons  were  dug  of  old,1 
Nor  will  high-thoughted  Ocean  scorn 
A  prince  of  Sagar's  lineage  born.' 

He  ceased  ;  the  prudent  counsel  won 
The  glad  assent  of  Raghu's  son. 
Then  on  the  ocean  shore  a  bed 
Of  tender  sacred  grass  was  spread, 
Where  Rama  at  the  close  of  day 
Like  fire  upon  an  altar  lay. 


CANTO  XX. 


THE  SPIES. 

l^ardula,  Ravan's  spy,  surveyed 
The  legions  on  the  strand  arrayed, 
And  bore,  his  bosom  racked  with  fear, 
These  tidings  to  the  monarch's  ear  : 

'  They  come,  they  come.    A  rushing  tide, 
Ten  leagues  they  spread  from  side  to  side, 
And  on  to  storm  thy  city  press, 
Fierce  rovers  of  the  wilderness. 
Rich  in.each  princely  power  and  grace, 
The  pride  of  Das?mitha's'tace, 
Rama  and  Lakshman  lead  their  bands, 
And  halt  them  on  the  ocean  sands. 
O  Monarch,  rise,  this  peril  meet ; 
Risk  not  the  danger  of  defeat. 

1  The  story  is  told  in  Book  I.    Cantos 
XL.^XLL,  XLII, 


442 


THE  RAMAYAX. 


Boole 


First  let  each  wiser  art  be  tried  : 

Bribe  them,  or  win  them,  or  divide.' 

Such  was  the  counsel  of  the  spy  : 

And  Ravan  called  to  $ukn :  *  Fly, 

Sugriva  lord  of  V&nars  seek, 

And  thus  my  kindly  message  speak : 

*  Great  power  and  might  and  fame  are 

thine, 

Brave  scion  of  a  royal  line, 
King  Riksharajas'  son,  in  thee 
A  brother  and  a  friend  I  see. 
How  wronged  by  me  canst  thou  complain? 
What  profit  here  pretend  to  gain  ? 
'If  from  the  wood  the  wife  I  stole 
Of  Kama  of  the  prudent  soul, 
What  cause  hast  thou  to  mourn  the  theft  ? 
Thou  art  not  injured  or  bereft. 
Return,  O  King,  thy  steps  retrace 
And  seek  thy  mountain  dwelling-place. 
No,  never  may  thy  hosts  within 
My  Lanka's  walls  a  footing  win, 
A  mighty  town  whose  strength  defies 
The  gathered  armies  of  the  skies.' 

He  ceased  :  obedient  Suka  heard  ; 
With  wings  and  plumage  of  a  bird 
He  rose  in  eager  speed  and  through 
The  air  upon  his  errand  flew. 
Borne  o'er  the  sea  with  rapid  wing 
He  stood  above  the  Vanar  king, 
And  spoke  aloud,  sublime  in  air, 
The  message  he  was  charged  to  bear. 
The  Vanars  heard  the  words  he  spoke, 
And  quick  redoubling  stroke  on  stroke 
On  head  and  pinions  hemmed  him  round 
And 'bore  him  struggling  to  the  ground. 
The  Rakshas  wounded  and  distressed 
These  words  to  Raghu's  son  addressed  : 

4  Quick,  quick  !  his  Vanar  host  restrain, 
For  heralds  never  must  be  slain. 
To  him  alone,  a  wretch  untrue, 
The  punishment  of  death  is  due. 
Who  leaves  his  master's  speech  unsaid 
And  speaks  another  in  its  stead.'   ' 
Moved  by  the  suppliant's  speech  and  prayer 
Up  sprang  the  prince  and  cried,  forbear. 
Saved  from  his  wild  assailants'  blows 
Again  the  Rakshas  herald  rose, 
And  borne  on  light  wings  to  the  sky 
Addressed  Sugriva  from  on  high  : 
'  'O  Vanar  Monarch,  chief  endued 
With  power  and  wondrous  fortitude. 
What  answer  is  my  king,  the  fear 
And  scourge  of  weeping  worlds,  to  hear?' 
'  Go  tell  thy  lord,'  Sugriva  cried. 
'  Thou,  Rama's  foe,  art  thus  defied. 
His  arm  the  guilty  Bali  slew  ; 
Thus,  tyrant,  shalt  thou  perish  too. 
Thy  sons,  thy  friends,  proud  King,  and  all 
Thy  kith  and  kin  with  thee  shall  fall  ; 
And,  emptied  of  the  giants'  brood, 
Tinrnt  Lanka  be  a  solitude. 


Fly  to  the  Sun-God's  pathway,  go 
And  hide  thee  deep  in  hell  below  : 
In  vain  from  Kama  shalt  thou  flee 
Though  heavenly  warriors  fight  for  thee, 
Thine  arm  subdued,  securely  bold, 
The  Vulture- king  infirm  and  old  : 
But  will  thy  puny  strength  avail 
When  Raghu's  wrathful  sons  assail  ? 
A  captive  in  thy  palace  lies 
The  lady  of  the  lotus  eyes  : 
!  Thou  knowest  not  how  fierce  and  strong 
Is  he  whom  thou  hast  dared  to  wrong. 
The  best  of  Raghu's  lineage,  he 
Whose  conquering  hand  shall  punish  thee 

He  ceased  :  and  Angad  raised  a  cry  ; 
4  This  is  no  herald  but  a  spy. 
Above  thee  from  his  airy  post 
His  rapid  eye  surveyed  our  host, 
Where  with  advantage  he  might  scan 
Our  gathered  strength  from  rear  to  van. 
Bind  him.  Vanars,  bind  the  spy, 
Nor  let  him  back  to  Lanka  fly.' 

They  hurled  the  Riikshas  to  thegrouiu 
They  grasped  his  neck,  his  pinions  bound 
And  firmly  held  him  while  in  vain 
His  voice  was  lifted  to  complain. 
P>ut  Rama's  heart  inclined  to  spare, 
He  listened  to  his  plaint  and  prayer, 
And  cried  aloud  :  '  p  Vanars  cease  ; 
The  captive  from  his  bonds  release.' 

CANTO  XXI. 


OCEAN  THREATENED. 

His  hands  in  reverence  Rama  raised 
And  southward  o'er  the  ocean  gazed  ; 
Then  on  the  sacred  grass  that  made 
His  lowly  couch  his  limbs  he  laid. 
His  head  on  that  strong  arm  reclined 
Which  Sitfi,  best  of  womankind, 
Had  loved  in  happier  days  to  hold 
With  soft  armsdecked  with  pearl  andgok 
Then  rising  from  his  bed  of  grass, 
'This  day/  he  cried,  'the  host  shall  pass 
Triumphant  to  the  southern  shore, 
Or  Ocean's  self  shall  be  no  more.' 
Thus  Vowing  in  his  constant  breast 
Again  he  turned  him  to  his  res% 
And  there,  his  eyes  in  slumber  closed, 
Silent  beside  the  sea  reposed. 
Thrice  rose  the  Day-God,  thrice  he  set, 
The  lord  of  Ooean  came  not  yet, 
Thrice  came  the  night,  but  Raghu's  sotj 
No  answer  by  his  service  won. 
To  Lakshman  thus  the  hero  crie  ", 
His  eyes  aflame  with  wrath  and  t,iide  : 

4  In  vain  the  softer  gifts  that  grace 
The  good  are  offered  to  the  base. 
Loug-sufjerius:,  patience,  gentle  speech 


Canto  XXlt.  i 

T* 

Their  thankless  hearts  can  never  reach. 
The  world  to  him  its  honour  pays 
Whose  ready  tongue  himself  can  praise, 
Who  scorns  the  true,  and  hates  the  right, 
Whose  hand  is  ever  raised  to  smite. 
Each  milder  art  is  tried  in  vain  : 
It  wins  no  glory,  but  disdain. 
And  victory  owns  no  softer  charm 
Than  might  which  nerves  a  warrior's  arm. 
My  humble  suit  is  still  denied 
By  Ocean's  overweening  pride. 
This  day  the  monsters  of  the  deep 
In  throes  of  death  shall  wildly  leap. 
My  shafts  shall  rend  the  surpents  curled 
In  caverns  of  the  watery  world, 
Disclose  each  sunless  depth  and  bare 
The  tangled  pearl  and  coral  there. 
Away  with  mercy  !  at  a  time 
Like  this  compassion  is  a  crime. 
Welcome,  the  battle  and  the  foe  ! 
My  bow !  my  arrows  and  my  bow ! 
This  day  the  Vanars'  feet  shall  tread 
The  conquered  Sea's  exhausted  bed, 
And  he  who  never  feared  before 
Shall  tremble  to  his  farthest  shore.' 

Red  flashed  his  eyes  with  angry  glow  : 
He  stood  and  grasped  his  mighty  bow, 
Terrific  as  the  fire  of  doom 
Whose  quenchless  flames  the  world  con- 
sume. 

His  clanging  cord  the  archer  drew, 
And  swift  the  fiery  arrows  flew 
Fierce  as  the  flashing  levin  sent 
By  him  who  rules  the  firmament. 
Jown  through  the  startled  waters  sped 
Cach  missile  with  its  flaming  head, 
.'he  foamy  billows  rose  and  sank, 
And  dashed  upon  the  trembling  bank 
>ea  monsters  of  tremendous  form, 
With  crash  and  roar  of  thunder  storm. 
Still  the  wild  waters  rose  and  fell 
Jrowned  with  white  foam  and  pearl  and 

shell. 

Sach  serpent,  startled  from  his  rest, 
Raised  his  fierce  eyes  and  glowing  crest, 
And  prisoned  Diinavs1  where  they  dwelt 
n  depths  below  the  terror  felt. 
Igain  upon  his  string  he  laid 
A  flaming  shaft,  but  Lakshman  stayed 
lis  arm,  with  gentle  reasoning  tried 
Do  soothe  his  angry  mood,  and  cried  : 
'Brother,  reflect :  the  wise  control 
I? he  rising  passions  of  the  soul. 
^et  Ocean  grant,  without  thy  threat, 
The  boon  on  which  thy  heart  is  set. 
That  gracious  lord  will  ne'er  refuse 
When  Rama  son  of  Raghu  sues.' 
[le  ceased :  and  voices  from  the  air 
Pell  clear  and  loud,  Spare,  Rama,  spare. 


443 


Fiends  and  enemies  of  the  Gods. 


CANTO  XXIT. 


With  angry  menace  Rama,  best 
Of  Raghu's  sons,  the  Sea  addressed  :, 
*  With  fiery  flood  of  arrowy  rain 
Thy  channels  will  I  dry  and  drain. 
A  nil  I  and  all  the  Vanar  host 
Will  reach  on  foot  the  farther  coast. 
Thou  shalt  not  from  destruction  save 
The  creatures  of  the  teeming  wave, 
And  lapse  of  time  shall  ne'er  efface 
The  memory  of  the  dire  disgrace  ' 

Thus  spoke  the  warrior,  and  prepared 
The  mortal  shaft  which  never  spared, 
Known,  mystic  weapon,  by  the  name 
Of  Brahma,  red  witn  quenchless  flame. 
Great  terror,  as  he  strained  the  bow, 
Struck  heaven  above  and  earth  below, 
Through  echoing  skies  the  thunder  pealed, 
Arid  startled  mountains  rocked  and  reeled  ; 
The  earth  was  black  with  sudden  night, 
And  heaven  was  blotted  from  the  sight. 
Then  ever  and  anon  the  glare 
Of  meteors  shot  through  murky  air, 
And  with  a  wild  terrific  sound 
Red    lightnings     struck    the    trembling 

ground. 

In  furious  gusts  the  fierce  wind  blew  : 
Tall  trees  it  shattered  and  o'erthrew, 
And,  smiting  with  a  giant's  stroke, 
Huge  masses  from  the  mountain  broke. 
A  cry  of  terror  long  and  shrill 
Came  from  each  valley,  plain,  and  hill ; 
Each  ruined  dale,  each  riven  peak 
Re-echoed  with  a  wail  or  shriek. 

While  Raghu's  son  undaunted  gazed, 
The  waters  of  the  deep  were  raised, 
And,  still  uplifted  more  anji  more, 
Leapt  in  wild  flood  upon  the  shore. 
Still  Rama  looked  upon  the  tide 
And  kept  his  post  unterrified. 
Then  from  the  seething  flood  upreared 
Majestic  Ocean's  form  appeared, 
As  rising  from  his  eastern  height 
Springs  thro  ugh  the  sky  the  Lord  of  Light. 
Attendant  on  their  monarch  came 
Sea  serpents  with  their  eyes  aflame. 
Like  lazulite  and  burning  gold 
His  form  was  wondrous  to  behold. 
Bright  with  each  fairest  precious  stone 
A  chain  about  his  neck  was  thrown. 
Calm  shone  his  lotus  eyes  beneath 
The  blossoms  of  his  heavenly  wreath, 
And  many  a  pearl  and  sea  born  gem 
Flashed  in  the  monarch's  diadem. 
There  Ganga,  tributary  queen, 
And  Sindhu1  by  his  lord,  were  seen, 

i  The  Indus. 


444 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  VI. 


And  every  stream  and  brook  renowned 
In  ancient  story  girt  him  round. 
Then,  as  the  waters  rose  and  swelled. 
The  king  with  suppliant  hands  upheld, 
His  glorious  head  to  Rama  bent 
And  thus  addressed  him  reverent: 
*  Air,  ether,  fire,  earth,  water,  true 
To  nature's  will,  their  course  pursue  ; 
And  I.  as  ancient  laws  ordain, 
Unfordable  must  still  remain. 
Yet,  Raghu's  son,  my  counsel  hear  : 
I  ne'er  for  love  or  hope  or  fear 
Will  pile  my  waters  in  a  heap 
And  leave  a  pathway  through  the  deep. 
Still  shall  my  care  for  thee  provide 
An  easy  passage  o'er  the  tide, 
And  like  a  city's  paven  street 
Shall  be  the  road  beneath  thy  feet.' 
He  ceased  :  and  Rama  spoke  again : 
'This  spell  is  ne'er  invoked  in  vain. 
Where  shall  the  magic  shaft,  to  spend 
The  fury  of  its  might,  descend  ?' 
'Shoot,'  Ocean  cried,  'thine  arrow  forth 
With  all  its  fury  to  the  north, 
Where  sacred  Drumakulya  lies, 
Whose  glory  with  thy  glory  vies. 
There  dwells  a  wild  Abhira1  race, 
As  vile  in  act  as  foul  of  face, 
Fierce  Dasyus1  who  delight  in  ill, 
And  drink  my  tributary  rill. 
My  soul  no  longer  may  endure 
Their  neighbourhood  and  touch  impure. 
At  these,  0  son  of  Baghu,  aim 
'TBine  arrow  with  the  quenchless  flame.1 

Swift  from  the  bow,  as  Rama  drew 
His  cord,  the  fiery  arrow  flew. 
Earth  groaned  to'feel  the  wound,  and  sent 
A  rush  of  water  through  the  rent ; 
And  famed  for  ever  is  the  well 
Of  Vrana3  where  the  arrow  fell. 
Then  every  brook  and  lake  beside 
Throughout  the  region  Rama  dried. 
But  yet  he  gave  a  boon  to  bless 
And  fertilize  the  wilderness  : 
No  fell  disease  should  taint  the  air, 
And  sheep  and  kine  should  prosper  there: 
Earth  should  produce  each  pleasant  root, 
The  stately  trees  should  bend  with  fruit  ; 
Oil,  milk,  and  ho/iey  should  abound, 
And    fragrant  Serbs  should  clothe  the 

ground. 

Then  spake  th§  king  of  brooks  and  seas 
To  Raghu's  son  in  words  like  these  : 
4  Now  let  a  wondrous  task  be  done 
By  Nala,  Visvakarma's  son, 

1  Cowherds,  sprung  from   a  Brahman 
and  a  woman  of  the  medical  tribe,  the 
modern  Ahirs. 

2  Barbarians  or  outcasts, 

s  Vrana  means  wound  or  rent. 


Who,  born  of  one  of  Vanar  race, 

Inherits  by  his  father's  grace 

A  share  of  his  celestial  art. 

Call  Nala  to  perform  his  part, 

And  he,  divinely  taught  and  skilled, 

A  bridge  athwart  the  sea  shall  build.' 

He  spoke  and  vanished  Nala,  best 
Of  Vanar  chiefs,  the  king  addressed  : 
'O'er  the  deep  sea  wjiere  monsters  play 
A  bridge,  O  Rama,  will  I  lay  ; 
For,  sharer  of  my  father's  skill, 
Mine  is  the  power  and  mine  the  will. 
'  Tis  vain  to  try  each  gentler  art 
To  bribe  and  soothe  the  thankless  heart ; 
In  vain  on  such  is  mercy  spent  ; 
It  yields  to  naught  but  punishment. 
Through  fear  aluiie  will  Ocean  now 
A  passage  o'er  his  waves  allow. 
My  mother,  ere  she  bore  her  son, 
This  boon  from  Visvakarma  won  : 
'  O  Mandari,  thy  child  shall  be 
In  skill  and  glory  next  to  me.' 
But  why  unbidden  should  I  till 
Thine  ear  with  praises  of  my  skill  ? 
Command  the  Vanar  hosts  to  lay 
Foundations  for  the  bridge  to-day.' 

He  spoke:  and  swift  at  Rama's  hest 
Up  sprang  the  Vanars  from  their  rest, 
The  mandate  of  the  king  obeyed 
And  sought  the  forest's  mighty  shade. 
Unrooted  trees  to  earth  they  threw, 
And  to  the  sea  the  timber  drew. 
The  stately  palm  was  bowed  and  bent, 
Asokas  from  the  ground  were  rent, 
And  towering  Sals  and  light  bamboos, 
And  trees  with  flowers  of  varied  hues, 
With  loveliest    creepers    wreathed    and 

crowned, 

Shook,  reeled,  and  fell  upon  the  ground. 
With  mighty  engines  piles  of  stone 
And  seated  hills  were  overthrown  : 
Unprisoned  waters  sprang  on  high, 
In  rain  descending  from  the  sky  : 
And  ocean  with  a  roar  and  swell 
Heaved  wildly  when  the  mountains  fell. 
Then  the  great  bridge  of  wondrous  strength 
Was  built,  a  hundred  leagues  in  length. 
Rocks  huge  as  autumn  clouds  bound  fast 
With  cordage  from  the  shore  were  cast, 
And  fragments  of  each  riven  hill, 
And  trees  whose  flowers  adorned  them  still, 
Wild  was  the  tumult,  loud  the  din 
As  ponderous  rocks  went  thundering  in. 
Ere  set  of  sun,  so  toiled  each  crew, 
Ten  leagues  and  four  the  structure  grew  ; 
The  labours  of  the  second  day 
Gave  twenty  more  of  ready  way, 
And  on  the  fifth,  when  sank  the  sun, 
The  whole  stupendous  work  was  done. 
O'er  the  broad  way  the  Vanars  sped, 
Nor  swayed  it  with  their  countless  tread. 


Canto  XXIV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


445 


ExifUant  on  the  ocean  strand 
Yibhishan  stood,  and,  mace  in  hand, 
Longed  eager  for  the  onward  way, 
And  chafed  impatient  at  delay. 
Then  thus  to  Kama  trained  and  tried 
In  battle  King  Sugriva  cried: 
'  Come,  Hanuman's  broad  back  ascend  ; 
Let  Angad  help  to  Lakshman  lend, 
These  high  above  the  sea  shall  bear   ' 
Their  burthen  through  the  ways  of  air.' 

So,  with  Sugriva,  borne  o'erhead 
Ikshvaku's  sons  the  legions  led. 
Behind,  the  Vanar  hosts  pursued 
Their  march  in  endless  multitude. 
8orne  skimmed  the  surface  of  the  wave, 
To  some  the  air  a  passage  gave. 
Amid  their  ceaseless  roar  the  sound 
Of  Ocean's  fearful  voice  was  drowned, 
As  o'er  the  bridge  by  Nala  planned 
They  hastened  on  to  Lanka's  strand, 
Where,  by  the  pleasant  brooks,  mid  trees 
Loaded  with  fruit,  they  took  their  ease. 


CANTO    XXIII. 


THE  OMENS. 

Then  Rama,  peerless  in  the  skill 
That  marks  each  sign  of  good  and  ill, 
.Strained  his  dear  brother  to  his  breast, 
And  thus  with  prudent  words  addressed  : 
<!  Now,  Lakshman,  by  the  water's  side 
In  fruitful  groves  the  host  divide, 
That  warriors  of  each  woodland  race 
May  keep  their  own  appointed  place. 
Dire  is  the  danger  :  loss  of  friends, 
Of  Vanars  and  of  bears,  impends. 
Distained  with  dust  the  breezes  blow, 
And  earth  is  shaken  from  below. 
The  tall  hills  rock  from  foot  to  crown, 
And  stately  trees  come  toppling  down. 
In  threatening  shape,  with  voice  of  fear, 
The  clouds  like  cannibals  appear, 
And  rain  in  fitful  torrents,  red 
With  sanguinary  drops,  is  shed. 
Long  streaks  of  lurid  light  invest 
The  evening  skies  from  east  to  west, 
And  from  the  sun  at  times  a  ball 
Of  angry  fire  is  seen  to  fall. 
From  every  glen  and  brake  is  heard 
The  boding  voice  of  beast  and  bird  : 
From  den  and  lair  night-prowlers  run 
And  shriek  against  the  falling  sun. 
Up  springs  the  moon,  but  hot  and  red 
Kills  the  sad  night  with  woe  and  dread  ; 
No  gentle  lustre,  but  the  gloom 
That  heralds  universal  doom. 
A  cloud  of  dust  and  vapour  mars 
The  beauty  of  the  evening  stars, 


And  wild  and  fearful  is  the  sky 
As  though  the  wreck  of  worlds'  were  nigh. 
Around  our  heads  in  boding  flight 
Wheel  hawk  and  vulture,  crow  and  kite  ; 
And  every  bird  of  happy  note 
Shrieks  terror  from  his  altered  throat. 
Sword,  spear  and  shaft  shall  strew  the  plain 
Dyed  red  with  torrents  of  the  slain. 
To-day  the  Vanar  troops  shall  close 
Around  the  city  of  our  foes.' 


CANTO  XXIV. 


THE  SPY'S  RETURN. 

As  shine  the  heavens  with  autumn's  moon 

Refulgent  in  the  height  of  noon, 

So  shone  with  light  which  Rama  gave 

That  army  of  the  bold  and  brave, 

As  from  the  sea  it  marched  away 

In  war's  magnificent  array, 

And  earth  was  shaken  by  the  beat 

And  trampling  of  unnumbered  feet. 

Then  to  tne  giants'  ears  were  borne, 

The  mingled  notes  of  drum  and  horn, 

And  clash  of  tambours  smote  the  sky, 

And  shouting  and  the  battle  cry. 

The  sound  of  martial  strains  inspired 

Each  chieftain,  and  his  bosom  fired  : 

While  giants  from  their  walls  replied, 

And  answering  shouts  the  foe  defied, 

Then  Rama  looked  on  Lanka  where 

Bright  banners  floated  in  the  air, 

Ana,  pierced  with  anguish  at  the  view, 

His  loving  thoughts  to  Sita  flew. 

'  There,  prisoned  by  the  giant,  lies 

My  lady  of  the  tender  eyes, 

Like  Rohinf  the  queen  of  stars 

Overpowered  by  the  fiery  Mars.' 

Then  turned  he  to  his  brother  chief 

And  cried  in  ag^ny  of  grief  : 

*  See  on  the  hill,  divin3ly  planned 

And  built  by  Visvakarrna's  hand.^ 

The  towers  and  domes  of  Lanka,  rise 

In  peerless  beauty  to  the  skies. 

Bright  from  afar  the  city  shines 

With  gleam  of  palaces  and  shrines, 

Like  pale  clouds  through  the  region  spread 

By  Vishnu's  self  inhabited. 

Fair  gardens  grow,  and  woods  between 

The  stately  domes  are  fresh  and  green, 

Where  trees  their  bloom  and  fruit  display, 

And  sweet  birds  sing  on  every  spray. 

E  ich  bird  is  mad  with  joy,  and  bees 

Sing  lab  mring  in  the  bloomy  trees 

On  branches  by  the  breezes  bowed, 

Where  the  gay  Koil's  voice  is  loud.' 

This  said,  he  ranged  wibh  warlike  art 
Each  body  of  the  host  apart. 


446 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  VI 


'  There  in  the  centre,'  BSma  cried, 
*  Be  Angad's  place  by  Nila's  side. 
Let  Bishabh  of  impetuous  might 
Be  lord  and  leader  on  the  right, 
And  Gandhamadan,  next  in  rank, 
Be  captain  of  the  farther  flank. 
Lakshman  and  I  the  hosts  will  lead, 
And  Jambavan  of  ursine  breed, 
With  bold  Sushen  unused  to  fear, 
And  Vegadarsi,  guide  the  rear.' 

Thus  Kama  spoke :  the  chiefs  obeyed  ; 
And  all  the  Vanar  hosts  arrayed 
{Showed  awful  as  the  autumn  sky 
When  clouds  embattled  form  on  high. 
Their  arms  were  mighty  trees  o'erthrown, 
And  massy  blocks  of  mountain  stone. 
One  hope  in  every  warlike  breast, 
One  riini  resolve,  they  onward  pressed, 
To  die  in  fight  or  batter  down 
The  walls  and  towers  of  Lanka's  town. 

Those  marshalled  legions  Kama  eyed, 
And  thus  to  King  Sugriva  cried : 

*  Now,  Monarch,  ere  the  hosts  proceed, 
Let  £uka,  Bavan's  spy,  be  freed.' 

He  spoke  :  the  Vanar  gave  consent 
And  loosed  him  from  imprisonment : 
And.^uka,  trembling  and  afraid, 
His  homeward  way  to  Bavan  made. 
Loud  laughed  the  lord  of  Lanka's  isle  : 

*  Where  hast  thou  stayed  this  weary  while? 
Why  is  thy  plumage  marred,  and  why 
Do  twisted  cords  thy  pinions  tie  ? 

Say,  comest  thou  in  evil  plight 
The  victim  of  the  Vanars'  spite  ?  * 

He  ceased  :  the  spy  his  fear  controlled, 
And  to  the  king  his  story  told : 

*  I  reached  the  ocean's  distant  shore, 
Thy  message  to  the  king  I  bore. 

In  sudden  wrath  the  Vanars  rose, 

They  struck  me  down  with  f uribus  blows  ; 

They  seized  me  helpless  on  the  ground, 

My  plumage  rent,  my  pinions  bound. 

They  would  not.  headlong  in  their  ire, 

Consider,  listen,  or  inquire  ; 

So  tickle,  wrathful,  rough  and  rude 

Is  the  wild  forest  multitude. 

There,  marshalling  the  Vanar  bands, 

King  Bama  with  Sugriva  stands, 

Rama  the  matchless  warrior,  who 

Viradha  and  Kabandha  slew, 

Khara,  and  countless  giants  more, 

And  tracks  his  queen  to  Lanka's  shore. 

A  bridge  athwart  the  sea  was  cast, 

And  o'er  it  have  his  legions  passed. 

Hark  !  heralded  by  horns  and  drums 

The  terrible  avenger  comes. 

E'en  now  the  giants'  isle  he  fills 

With  warriors  huge  as  clouds  and  hills, 

And  burning  with  vindictive  hate 

Will  thunder  soon  at  Lanka's  gate. 


Yield  or  oppose  him  :  choose  between 
Thy  safety  and  the  Maithil  queen.' 

He  ceased :  the  tyrant's  eyeballs  blazed 
With  fury  as  his  voice  he  raised  : 
'  No,  if  the  dwellers  of  the  sky, 
Gandharvas,  fiends  assail  me,  I 
Will  keep  the  Maithil  lady  still, 
Nor  yield  her  back  for  fear  of  ill. 
When  shall  my  shafts  with  iron  hail 
My  foeman,  Raghu's  son,  assail, 
Thick  as  the  bees  with  eager  wing 
Beat  on  the  flowery  trees  of  spring  ? 
O,  let  me  meet  my  foe  at  length, 
And  strip  him  of  his  vaunted  strength, 
Fierce  as  the  sun  who  shines  afar 
Stealing  the  light  of  every  star.  ^ 
Strong  as  the  sea's  impetuous  might 
My  ways  are  like  the  tempest's  flight; 
But  Rama  knows  not  this,  or  he 
In  terror  from  my  face  would  flee.' 


CANTO  XXV.1 


BAVAN'S  SPIES. 

When  Rama  and  the  host  he  led 

Across  the  sea  had  safely  sped, 

Thus  Ravan,  moved  by  wrath  and  pride, 

To  £uka  and  to  Saran  cried  : 

*  O  counsellors,  the  Vanar  host 

Has  passed  the  sea  from  coast  to  coast, 

And  Dasaratha's  son  has  wrought 

A  wondrous  deed  surpassing  thought. 

And  now  in  truth  I  needs  must  know 

The  strength  and  number  of  the  foe. 

Go  ye,  to  Rama's  host  repair 

And  count  me  all  the  legions  there. 

Learn  well  what  power  each  captain  leads 

His  name  and  fame  for  warlike  deeds. 

Learn  by  what  artist's  wondrous  aid 

That  bridge  athwart  the  sea  was  made  ; 

Learn  how  the  Vanar  host  came  o'er 

And  halted  on  the  island  shore. 

Mark  Rama  son  of  Kaghu  well  ; 

His  valour,  strength,  and  weapons  tell. 

Watch  his  advisers  one  by  one, 

And  Lakshman,  Baghu's  younger  son. 

Learn  with  observant  eyes,  and  bring 

Unerring  tidings  to  your  king.' 

He  ceased  :  then  swift  in  Vanar  guise 
Forth  on  their  errand  sped  the  spies. 
They  reached  the  Vanars,  and,  dismay ec 
Their  never-ending  lines  purvey d  ; 
Nor  would  they  try.  in  mere  despair, 
To  count  the  countless  legions  there, 

1  Here  in  the  Bengal  recension  (Goi 
resio's  edition),  begins  Book  VI, 


Cant*  XXVI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


447 


That  crowded  valley,  plain  and  hill, 
That  pressed  about  each  cave  and  rill. 
Though  sea-like  o'er  the  land  were  spread 
The  endless  hosts  which  Rama  led, 
The  bridge  by  thousands  yet  was  lined, 
And  eager  myriads  pressed  behind. 
But  sage  Vibhishairg  watchful  eyes 
Had  marked  the  giants  in  disguise. 
He  gave  command  the  pair  to  seize, 
And  told  the  tale  in  words  like  these  : 

4  O  Rama  these,  well  known  erewhile, 
Are  giant  sons  of  Lanka's  isle, 
Two  counsellors  of  Ravan  sent 
To  watch  the  invading  armament.' 

Vibbishan  ceased  :  at  Rama's  look 
The  Rakshas  envoys  quailed  and  shook  ; 
Then  suppliant  hand  to  hand  they  pressed 
And  thus  Ikshvaku's  son  addressed  : 
*  O  Rama,  hear  the  truth  we  speak  : 
Our  monarch  Ravan  bade  us  seek 
The  Vanar  legions  and  survey 
Their  numbers,  strength,  and  vast  array'. 

Then  Rama,  friend  and  hope  and  guide 
Of  suffering  creatures,  thus  replied  : 

'  Now  giants,  if  your  eyes  have  scanned 
Our  armies,  numbering  every  band, 
Marked  lord  and  chief,  and  gazed  their 

fill, 

Return  to  Ravan  when  ye  will. 
If  aught  remain',  if  aught  anew 
Ye  fain  would  scan  with  closer  view, 
Vibhishan,  ready  at  your  call, 
Will  lead  you  forth  and  show  you  all. 
Think  not  of  bonds  and  capture  ;  fear 
No  loss  of  life,  no  peril  here : 
For,  captive,  helpless  and  unarmed, 
An  envoy  never  should  be  harmed. 
Again  to  Lanka's  town  repair, 
Speed  to  the  giant  monarch  there, 
And  be  these  words  to  Ravan  told, 
Fierce  brother  of  the  Lord  of  Gold  : 
*Now,  tyrant,  tremble  for  thy  sin  : 
Call  up  thy  friends,  thy  kith  and  kin, 
And  let  the  power  and  might  be  seen 
Which  made  thee  bold  to  steal  my  queen. 
To-morrow  shall  thy  mournful  eye 
Behold  thy  bravest  warriors  die, 
And  Lanka's  city,  tower  and  wall, 
Struck  by  my  tiery  shafts,  will  fall. 
Then  shall  my  vengeful  blow  descend 
Its  rage  on  thee  and  thine  to  spend, 
Fierce  as  the  fiery  bolt  that  flew 
From  heaven  against  the  Danav  crew, 
Mid  those  rebellious  demons  sent 
By  him  who  rules  the  firmament.' 

"Thus  spake  Ikshvaku's  son,  and  ceased: 
The  giants  from  their  bonds  released 
Lauded  the  king  with  glad  accord, 
And  hasted  homeward  to  their  lord. 
Before  the  tyrant  side  by  side 
Suka  and  Suran  stood  and  cried  : 


Vibhishan  seized  us,  King,  and  fain 
His  helpless  captives  would  have  slain. 
But  glorious  Rama  saw  us  ;  he, 
Great-hearted  hero,  made  us  free. 
There  in  one  spot  our  eyes  beheld 
Four  chiefs  on  earth  unparalleled, 
Who  with  the  guardian  Gods  may  vie 
Who  rule  the  regions  of  the  sky. 
There  Rama  stood,  the  boast  and  pride 
Of  Raghu's  race,  by  Lakshman's  side. 
There  stood  the  sage  Vibhishan,  there 
Sugriva  strong  beyond  compare. 
These  four  alone  can  batter  down 
Gate,  rampart,  wall,  and  Lanka's  town. 
Nay,  Rama  matchless  in  hia  form, 
A  single  foe,  thy  town  would  storm  : 
So  wondrous  are  his  weapons,  he 
Needs  not  the  succour  of  the  three. 
Why  speak  we  of  the  countless  train 
That  fills  the  valley,  hill  and  plain, 
The  millions  of  the  Vanar  breed 
Whom  Rama  and  Sugriva  lead  ? 
O  King,  be  wise,  contend  no  more, 
And  Sit&  to  her  lord  restore.' 


CANTO  XXVI. 


THE  VANAR  CHIEFS. 

1  Not  if  the  Gods  in  heaven  who  dwell, 
Gandharvas,  and  the  fiends  of  hell 
In  banded  opposition  rise 
Against  me,  will  I  yield  my  prize. 
Still  trembling  from  the  ungentle  touch 
Of  Vanar  hands  ye  fear  too  much, 
And  bid  me,  heedless  of  the  shame, 
Give  to  her  lord  the  Maithil  dame.' 

Thus  spoke  the  king  in  stern  reproof; 
Then  mounted  to  his  palace  roof 
Aloft  o'er  many  a  story  raised, 
And  on  the  lands  beneath  him  gazed. 
There  by  his  faithful  spies  he  stood 
And  looked  on  sea  and  hill  and  wood. 
There  stretched  before  him  far  away 
The  Vanars'  numberless  array : 
IScarce  could  the  meadows'  tender  green 
Beneath  their  trampling  feet  be  seen. 
He  looked  a  while  with  furi<  us  eye, 
Then  questioned  thus  the  nearer  spy  : 
'  Bend,  Saran,  bend  thy  gaze,  and  show 
The  leaders  of  the  Vanar  foe. 
Tell  me  their  heroes'  names,  and  teach 
The  valour,  power  and  might  of  each.' 

Obedient  Saran  eyed  the  van, 
The  leaders  marked,  and  thus  began : 
*  That  chief  conspicuous  at  the  head 
Of  warriors  in  the  forest  bred, 
Who  hither  bends  his  ruthless  eye 
And  shouts  his  fearful  battle  cry : 


448 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  VI. 


Whose  voice  with  periling  thunder  shakes 
All  Lanka,  with  the  groves  and  lakes 
And  hills  that  tremble  at  the  sound, 
Is  Nila,  for  his  might  renowned  : 
First  of  the  Vanar  lords  controlled 
I5y  King  Sugriva  lofty -souled. 
He  who  his  mighty  arm  extends, 
And  his  fierce  eye  on  I*ank&  bends, 
In  stature  like  a  stately  tower, 
In  colour  like  a  lotus  flower. 
Who  with  his  wild  earth-shaking  cries 
Thee,  Havan,  to  the  field  defies, 
3s  Angad,  by  Sugriva's  care 
Anointed  his  imperial  heir: 
In  wondrous  strength,  in  martial  fire 
Peer  of  King  Bali's  self,  his  sire  ; 
For  Rama's  sake  in  arms  arrayed 
Like  Varun  called  to  £akra's  aid. 
3>ehind  him,  girt  by  warlike  bands, 
Kala  the  mighty  Vanar  stands, 
The  son  of  Vis/akarma,  he 
Who  built  the  bridge  athwart  the  sea. 
Look  farther  yet,  O  King,  and  mark 
That  chieftain  clothed  in  Sandal  bark. 
Tis  Sweta,  famed  among  his  peers, 
A  sage  whom  all  his  race  reveres. 
See,  in  Sugriva's  ear  he  speaks, 
Then,  hasting  back,  his  post  reseeks, 
And  turns  his  practised  eye  to  view 
The  squadrons  he  has  formed  anew. 
Next  Kumud  stands  who  roamed  of  yore 
On  Gomati's1  delightful  shore, 
Sheared  where  the  waving  woods  invest 
His  seat  on  Mount  Sanrochan's  crest. 
Next  him,  a  chieftain  strong  and  dread, 
Comes  Chanda  at  his  legions'  head  ; 
Exulting  in  his  warrior  might 
He  hastens,  burning  for  the  fight. 
And  boasts  that  his  unaided  powers 
Shall  cast  to  earth  thy  walls  and  towers. 
Mark,  mark  that  chief  of  lion  gait, 
Who  views  thee  with  a  glance  of  hate 
As  though  his  very  eyes  would  burn 
The  city  walls  to  which  they  turn: 
Tis  Rambha,  Vanar  king  :  he  dwells 
In  Krishnagiri'g  tangled  dells, 
Where  Viudh ya^'s  pleasant  slopes  are  spread 
And  fair  Sudarsan  lifts  his  head. 
There,  listening  with  erected  ears, 
jSarabha,  mighty  chief,  appears. 
His  soul  is  burning  for  the  strife, 
Nor  dreads  the  jeopardy  of  life. 
He  trembles  as  he  moves,  for  ire. 
And  bends  around  his  glance  of  fire. 
.Next,  like  a  cloud  that  veils  the  skies, 
A  chieftain  of  terrific  size, 
Conspicuous  mid  the  Vanars,  comes 
With  battle  shout  like  rolling  drums. 
'Tis  f'anas,  trained  in  war  and  tried, 


1  The  Goomtee. 


Who  dwells  on  Pariy&tra's  side. 

He,  far  away,  the  chief  who  throws 

A  glory  cr'er  the  marshalled  rows 

That  ranged  behind  their  captain  stand 

Exulting  on  the  ocean  strana, 

Is  Vinata  the  fierce  in  fight,    ,  , 

Preeminent  like  Dardur's  height. 

That  chieftain  bending  down  to  drink 

On  lovely  Vena's  verdant  brink, 

Is  Krathan  ;  now  he  lifts  his  eyes 

And  thee  to  mortal  fray  denes. 

Next  Gavaya  comes,  whose  haughty  mind 

Scorns  all  the  warriors  of  his  kind. 

He  comes  to  trample — such  his  boast — 

On  Lanka  with  his  single  host.' 


CANTO  XXVII. 


THE  VANAR  CHIEFS. 

4  Yet  more  remain,  brave  chiefs  who  stake 
Their  noble  lives  for  Rama's  sake. 
See,  glorious,  golden-coated,  one 
Who  glisters  like  the  morning  sun, 
Whom  thousands  of  his  race  surround, 
'Tis  Kara  for  his  strength  renowned, 
Next  comes  a  mighty  chieftain,  he 
Whose  legions,  armed  with  rock  and  tree, 
Press  on,  in  numbers  passing  tale, 
The  ramparts  of  our  town  to  scale. 
O  Kavan,  see  the  king  advance 
Terrific  "with  his  fiery  glance, 
Girt  by  the  bravest  of  his  train, 
Majestic  as  the  God  of  Rain, 
Parjanya,  when  his  host  of  clouds 
About  the  king,  embattled,  crowds  : 
On  Rikshavan's  high  mountain  nursed, 
In  Narmada1  he  slakes  his  thirst, 
Dhumra,  proud  ursine  chief,  who  leads 
Wild  warriors  whom  the  forest  breeds. 
His  brother,  next  in  strength  and  age, 
In  Jambavan  the  famous  sage. 
Of  yore  his  might  and  skill  he  lent 
To  him  who  rules  the  firmament, 
And  Indra's  liberal  boons  repaid 
The  chieftain  for  the  timely  aid. 
There  like  a  gloomy  cloud  that  flies 
Borne  by  the  tempest  through  the  skies, 
Pramathi  stands  :  he  roamed  of  yore 
The  forest  wilds  on  Ganga's  shore, 
Where  elephants  were  struck  with  dread 
And  trembling  at  his  coming  fled. 
There  on  his  foes  he  loved  to  sate 
The  old  hereditary  hate.2 


1  The  Anglicized  Nerbudda. 

2  According  to  a  Pauranik  legend  Ke* 
sari  Hanuman's  putative  father  had  killed 
an  Asur  or  demon  who  appeared  in  the 


Canto  XXIX. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


449 


Look,  Gaja  and  Gavaksha  show 
Their  lust  of  battle  with  the  foe. 
See  Nala  burning  for  the  fray, 
And  Ni la  chafing  at  delay. 
Behind  the  eager  captains  press 
Wild  hosts  in  numbers  numberless, 
And  each  for  llama's  sake  would  fall 
Or  force  his  way  through  Lanka's  wall.' 


CANTO  XXVIII. 


THE  CHIEFTAINS. 

There  Saran  ceased  :  then  Suka  broke 
The  silence  and  to  Ravan  spoke: 
'  O  Monarch,  yonder  chiefs  survey  : 
Like  elephants  in  size  are  they, 
And  tower  like  stately  trees  that  grow 
Where  Ganga's  nursing  waters  flow  ; 
Yea,  tall  as  mountain  pines  that  fling 
Long  shadows  o'er  the  snow-crowned  king. 
They  all  in  wild  Kishkindha  dwell 
And  serve  their  lord  Sugriva  well. 
The  Gods'  and  bright  Gandharvas'  seed, 
They  take  each  form  that  suits  their  need. 
Now  farther  look,  O  Monarch,  where 
Those  chieftains  stand,  a  glorious  pair, 
Conspicuous  for  their  godlike  frames  ; 
Dwivid  and  Mainda  are  their  names. 
Their  lips  the  drink  of  heaven  have  known, 
And  Brahm&  claims  them  for  his  own. 
That  chieftain  whom  thine  eyes  behold 
Refulgent  like  a  hill  of  gold, 
Before  whose  wrathful  might  the  s6a 
Boused  from  his  rest  would  turn  and  flee, 
The  peerless  \7unar,  he  who  came 
To  Lanka  for  the  Maithil  dame, 
The  Wind-God's  son  Hanuman  ;  thou 
Hast  seen  him  once,  behold  him  now. 
Still  nearer  let  thy  glance  be  bent, 
And  mark  that  prince  preeminent 
Mid  chieftains  for  his  strength  and  size 
And  splendour  of  his  lotus  eyes. 
Far  through  the  worlds  his  virtues  shine, 
The  glory  of  Ikshvaku's  line. 
The  path  of  truth  he  never  leaves, 
And  still  through  all  to  duty  cleaves. 
Deep  in  the  Vedas,  skilled  to  wield 
The  mystic  shafts  to  him  revealed  : 
Whose  tlaming  darts  to  heaven  ascend, 
And  through  the  earth  a  passage  rend: 
In  might  like  him  who  rules  the  sky  ; 
Like  Yama,  when  his  wrath  grows  high  : 
Whose  queen,  the  darling  of  his  soul, 
Thy  magic  art  deceived  and  stole : 
There  royal  Rama  stands  and  longs 
For  battle  to  avenge  his  wrongs. 


Near  on  his  right  a  prince,  in  hue 
Like  pure  gold  freshly  burnished,  view : 
Broad  is  his  chest,  his  eye  is  red, 
His  black  hair  curls  about  his  head  : 
'Tis  Lakshman,  faithful  friend,  who  shares 
His  brother's  joys,  his  brother's  cares. 
By  Rama's  side  he  loves  to  stand 
And  serve  him  as  his  better  hand, 
For  whose  dear  sake  without  a  sigh 
The  warrior  youth  vvcmkj  gladly  die 
On  R-tima's  left  Vibhishan  view, 
With  giants  for  his  retinue  : 
King-making  drops  have  dewed  his  head, 
Appointed  monarch  in  thy  stead, 
Behold  that  chieftain  sternly  .still, 
High  towering  like  a  rooted  hill, 
Supreme  in  power  and  pride  of  place, 
The  monarch  of  the  Vanar  race, 
liaised  high  above  his  woodland  kind, 
In  might  and  glory,  frame  and  mind, 
His  head  above  his  host  he  shows 
Conspicuous  as  the  Lord  of  Snows. 
His  home  is  far  from  hostile  eyes 
Where  deep  in  woods  Kishkindha  lies. 
A  glistering  chain  which  flowers  bedeck 
With  burnished  gold  adores  his  neck. 
Queen  Fortune,  loved  by  Gods  and  kings, 
To  him  her  chosen  favourite  clings. 
That  chain  he  owes  to  Rama's  grace, 
And  Tara  and  his  kingly  place. 
In  him  the  great  Sugriva  know, 
Whom  Kama  rescued  from  his  foe.'1 


CANTO  XXIX. 


CAPTURED. 


The  giant  viewed  with  earnest  ken 
The  Vanars  and  the  lords  of  men  ; 
Then  thus,  with  grief  and  anger  moved, 
In  bitter  tone  the  spies  reproved  : 
*  Can  faithful  servants  hope  to  please 
Their  master  with  such  tales  as  these  ? 
Or  hope  ye  with  wild  words  to  wring 
The  bosom  of  your  lord  and  king  ? 
Such  words  were  better  said  by  those 
Wli!)  come  arrayed  our  mortal  foes. 
In  vain  your  ears  have  heard  the  sage, 
And  listened  to  the  lore  of  age, 
Untaught,  though  lectured  jmany  a  day, 
The  first  great  lesson,  to  obey, 
'Tis  marvel  Ravan  reigns  and  rules 
Whose  counsellors  are  blind  and  fools. 
Has  death  no  terrors  that  ye  dare 
To  tempt  your  monarch  to  despair, 


form  of  an  elephant,  and  hence  arose  the 

hostility  between  Vanars  and  elephants,     '  thousand  billions, 


1  Here  follows  the  enumeration  of  Su- 
griva's  forces  which  I  do  not  attempt 
to  follow.  It  soon  reaches  a  hundred  • 


450 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  VI. 


From  whose  imperial  mandate  flow 
Disgrace  and  honour,  weal  and  woe  ? 
1'ea,  forest  trees,  when  flames  are  fanned 
About  their  scorching  trunks,  may  stand ; 
But  naught  can  set  the  sinner  free 
When  kings  the  punishment  decree. 
I  would  not  in  mine  anger  spare 
The  traitorous  foe-praising  pair, 
But  years  of  faithful  service  plead 
For  pardon,  and  they  shall  not  bleed. 
Henceforth  to  me  be  dead  :  depart, 
Far  from  my  presence  and  my  heart.1 

Thus  spoke  the  angry  king  :  the  two 
Cried,  Long  live  Ravan,  and  withdrew. 
The  giant  monarch  turned  and  cried 
To  strong  Mahodar  at  his  side: 
«Go  thou,  and  spies  more  faithful  bring. 
More  duteous  to  their  lord  the  king,' 

Swift  at  his  word  Mahodar  shed, 
And  came  returning  at  the  head 
Of  long-tried  messengers,  who  bent 
Before  their  monarch  reverent. 
'  Go  quickly  hence,'  said  Ravan  '  scan 
With  keenest  eyes  the  foeman's  plan. 
Learn  who.  as  nearest  friends,  advise 
And  mould  each  secret  enterprise. 
Learn  when  he  wakes  and  goes  to  rest, 
Sound  every  purpose  of  his  breast. 
Learn  what  the  prince  intends  to-day  : 
Watch  keenly  all,  and  come  away.' 

With  joy  they  heard  the  words  he  said  : 
Then  with  &ardula  at  their  head 
About  the  giant  king  they  went 
With  circling  paces  reverent. 
By  fair  Suvela's  grassy  side 
The  chiefs  of  Raghu's  race  they  spied, 
Where,  shaded  by  the  waving  wood, 
Vibhishan  and  Sugriva  stood. 
A  while  they  rested  there  and  viewed 
The  Vanars1  countless  multitude. 
Vibhishan  with  observant  eyes 
Knew  at  a  glance  the  giant  spies. 
And  bade  the  warriors  of  his  train 
Bind  the  rash  foes  with  cord  and  chain  : 
*6ardula's  is  the  sin,'  he  cried, 
He  neath  the  Vanars'  hands  had  died, 
But  Rama  from  their  fury  freed 
The  captive  in  his  utmost  need, 
And,  merciful  at  sight  of  woe, 
Loosed  all  the  spies  and  bade  them  go. 
Then  home  to  Lanka's  monarch  tied 
The  giant  chiefs  discomfited, 


CANTO  XXX. 


SAKDU'LA'S  SPEECH. 

They  told  their  lord  that  Rama  still 
Lay  waiting  by  Suvela's  hill, 


TheHyrant,  flushed  with  angry  glow, 
Heard  of  the  coming  of  the  foe, 
And  thus  with  close  inquiry  pressed 
Surdtila  spokesman  for  the  rest : 
'  Why  art  thou  sad,  night-rover  ?  speak  : 
Has  grief  or  terror  changed  thy  cheek  ? 
Have  the  wild  Vanarg*  hostile  bands 
Assailed  thee  with  their  mighty  hands? 

Sardula  heard,  but  scarce  might  speak; 
His  trembling  tones  were  faint  and  weak: 
'  O  Giant  King,  in  vain  we  try 
The  purpose  of  the  foe  to  spy. 
Their  strength  and  number  none  may  tell, 
And  Rama" guards  his  legions  well. 
He  leaves  no  hope  to  prying  eyes, 
And  parley  with  the  chiefs  denies  : 
Each  road  and  path  a  Vanar  guard, 
Of  mountain  size,  has  closed  and  barred. 
Soon  as  my  feet  an  entrance  found 
By  giants  was  I  seized  and  bound, 
And  wounded  sore  I  fell  beneath 
Their  fists  and  knees  and  hands  and  teeth. 
Then  trembling,  bleeding,  wellnigh  dead 
To  Rama's  presence  was  I  led, 
He  in  his  mercy  stooped  to  save, 
And  freedom  to  the  captive  gave. 
With  rocks  and  shattered  mountains  he 
Has  bridged  his  way  athwart  the  sea, 
And  he  and  all  his  legions  wait 
Embattled  close  to  Lanka's  gate. 
Soon  will  the  host  thy  wall  assail, 
And,  swarming  on,  the  rampart  scale. 
Now,  O  my  King,  his  consort  yield, 
Or  arm  thee  with  the  sword  and  shield. 
This  choice  is  left  thee  :  choose  between 
Thy  safety  and  the  Maithil  queen.1 

CANTO  XXXI. 


THE  MAGIC  HEAD. 

The  tyrant's  troubled  eye  confessed 
The  secret  fear  that  filled  his  breast. 
With  dread  of  coming  woe  dismayed 
He  called  his  counsellors  to  aid  ; 
Then  sternly  silent,  deep  in  thought, 
His  chamber  in  the  palace  sought. 
Then,  as  the  surest  hope  of  all, 
The  monarch  bade^his  servants  call 


1  I  omit  the  rest  of  this  canto,  which  is 
mere  repetition.  Ravan  gives  in  the  same 
words  his  former  answer  that  the  Gods, 
Gandharvas  and  fiends  combined  shall 
not  force  him  to  give  up  Sita.  He  then 
orders  Sardula  to  tell  him  the  names  of 
the  Vanar  chieftains  whom  he  has  seen  in 
Rama's  army.  These  have  already  been 
mentioned  by  Suka  and  Suran, 


Canto  XXXIL 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


451 


Vidyujjihva,  whom  magic  skill 
Made  master  of  the  means  of  ill. 
Then  spake  the  lord  of  Lanka's  isle: 
4  Come,  Sit:!  with  thine  arts  beguile. 
With  magic  skill  and  deftest  care 
A  head  like  Kama's  own  prepare. 
This  head,  long  shafts  and  mighty  bow, 
To  Janak's  daughter  will  we  show.' 

He  ceased  :  Vidyujjihva  obeyed, 
And  wondrous  magio  skill  displayed  ; 
And  Ravan  for  the  art  he  showed 
A  a  ornament  of  price  bestowed. 
Then  to  the  grove  where  Sit;i  lay 
The  lord  of  Lanka  took  his  way. 
Pale,  wasted,  weeping,  on  the  ground 
Tiie  melancholy  queen  he  found, 
Whose  thoughts  in  utmost  stress  of  ill 
Were  fixed  upon  her  husband  still. 
The  giant  king  approached  the  dame, 
Declared  in  tones  of  joy  his  name  ; 
Then  iieeding  naught  her  wild  distress 
Bespake  her,  stern  and  pitiless  : 
*  The  prince  to  whom  thy  fancies  cling 
Though  loved  and  wooed  by  Lanka's  king, 
Who  slew  the  noble  Khara, — he 
Is  slain  by  warriors  sent  by  me. 
Thy  living  root  is  hewn  away, 
Thy  scornful  pride  is  tamed  to-day. 
Thy  lord  in  battle's  front  has  died, 
And  Sita  shall  be  Ravan's  bride. 
Hence,  idle  thoughts:  thy  hope  is  fled ; 
Whafc  wilt  thou,  Sita,  with  the  dead  ? 
Rise,  child  of  Janak,  rise  and  be 
The  queen  of  all  my  queens  and  me. 
Incline  thine  ear,  and  I  will  tell, 
Pear  lady,  how  thy  husband  fell. 
He  bridged  his  way  across  the  sea 
With  countless  troops  to  fight  with  me. 
The  setting  sun  had  flushed  the  west 
When  on  tne  shore  they  took  their  rest. 
Weary  with  toil  no  watch  they  kept : 
Securely  on  the  sands  they  slept. 
Prahasta's  troops  assailed  our  foes, 
And  smote  them  in  their  deep  repose. 
Scarce  could  their   bravest  prove   their 

might: 

They  perished  in  the  dark  of  night. 
Axe,  spear,  and  sword,  directed  well, 
Upon  the  sleeping  myriads  fell. 
First  in  the  fight  Prahasta's  sword 
Keft  of  his  head  thy  slumbering  lord. 
Roused  at  the  din  Vibhishan  rose, 
The  captive  of  surrounding  foes, 
And  Lakshman  through  the  woods  that 

spread 

Around  him  with  his  Vanars  fled. 
Hanuman  fell;  one  deadly  stroke 
The  neck  of  King  Sugriva  broke, 
And  Mainda  sank,  and  Dwivid  lay 
Gasping  in  blood  his  life  away. 
The  Vanars  died,  or  fled  dispersed 


Like  cloudlets  when  the  storm  his  burst. 
Some  rose  alof  c  in  air,  and  more 
Kan  to  the  sea  and  tilled  the  shore. 
On  shore,  in  woods,  on  hill  and  plain 
Our  conquering  giants  left  the  slain. 
Thus  my  victorious  host  o'erthrew 
The  Vanars,  and  thy  husband  slew  : 
See,  rudely  stained  with  dust,  and  red 
With  dropping  blood,  the  severed  head.1 

Then,  turning  to  a  Rakshas  slave, 
The  ruthless  king  his  mandate  gave  ; 
And  straight  Vidyujjihva  who  bore 
The  head  still  wet  with  dripping  gore, 
The  arrows  and  the  mighty  bow, 
Bent  down  before  his  master  low. 
'  Vidyujjihva,'  cried  Kavan,   '  place 
The  head  before  the  lady's  face, 
And  let  her  see  with  weeping  eyes 
That  low  in  death  her  husband  lies.' 

Before  the  queen  the  giant  laid 
The  beauteous  head  his  art  had  made. 
And  Ravan  cried  :  '  Thine  eyes  will  know 
These  arrows  and  the  mighty  bow. 
With  fame  of  this  by  Kama  strung 
The  earth  and  heaveu  and  hell  have  rung, 
Prahasta  brought  it  hither  when 
His  hand  had  slain  thy  prince  of  men. 
Now,  widowed  Queen,  thy  hopes  resign  ; 
Forget  thy  husband  and  be  mine.' 

CANTO  XXXII. 
SITE'S  LAMENT. 

Again  her  eyes  with  tears  o'erflowed  : 
Sue  gazed  upon  the  head  he  showed, 
Gazed  on  the  bow  so  famed  of  yore, 
The  glorious  bow  which  Rarna  bore, 
bhe  gazed  upon  his  cheek  and  brows, 
The  eyes  of  her  beloved  spouse  ; 
His  lips,  the  lustre  of  his  hair, 
The  priceless  gem  that  glitterel  there. 
The  features  of  her  lord  she  knew, 
And,  pierced  wjth  anguish  at  the  view1, 
She  lifted  up  her  voice  and  cried  : 
'  Kaikcyi,  art  thou  satisfied  ? 
Now  all  thy  longings  are  fulfilled  ; 
The  joy  of  ffcighu's  race  is  killed, 
And' ruined  is  the  ancient  line, 
JDestroyer,  by  that  fraud  of  thine. 
Ah,  what  offence,  O  cruel  dame, 
What  fault  in  Rama  couldst  thou  blame, 
To  drive  him  clad  in  hern^itjdress 
With  Sita  to  the  wilderness? 
Great  trembling  seized  tyer  frame,  and 

she 

Fell  like  a  stricken  plantain  tree. 
As  lie  the  dead  she  lay  :  at  length 
Slovyly  regaining  sense  and  strength, 
On  the  dear  head  she  n^ed  her  eye 


452 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  Vi 


Ard  cried  with  very  bitter  cry  : 
*JLh,  when  thy  cold  dead  cheek  I  view, 
My  hero,  I  am  murdered  too. 
Then  first  a  faithful  woman's  eyes 
See  sorrow,  when  her  husband  dies. 
When  thou,  my  lord,  wast  nigh  to  save, 
Some  stealthy  hand  thy  death  wound  gave. 
Thou  art  not  dead  :  rise,  hero,  rise  ; 
Long  life  was  thine,  as  spake  the  wise 
Whose  words,  I  ween,  are  ever  true, 
For  faith  lies  open  to  their  view. 
Ah  lord,  and  shall  thy  head  recline 
On  earth's  cold  breast,  forsaking  mine, 
Counting  her  chill  lap  dearer  far 
Than  1  and  my  caresses  are? 
Ah,  is  it  thus  these  eyes  behold 
Thy  famous  bow  adorned  with  gold, 
Whereon  of  yore  I  loved  to  bind 
Sweet  garlands  that  my  hands  had  twined  ? 
And  hast  thou  sought  in  heaven  a  place 
Amid  the  founders  of  thy  race, 
Where  in  the  home  deserved  so  well 
Thy  sires  and  Da.4aratha  dwell  ? 
Or  dost  thou  shine  a  brighter  star 
In  skies  where  blest  immortals  are, 
Forsaking  in  thy  lofty  scorn 
The  race  wherein  thy  sires  were  born? 
Turn  to  my  gaze.  0  turn  thine  ey  e  : 
Why  are  thy  cold  lips  silent,  why  ? 
When  first  we  met  as  youth  and  maid, 
When  in  thy  hand  my  hand  was  laid, 
Thy  promise  was  thy  steps  should  be 
Through  life  in  duty's  path  with  me. 
Remember,  faithful  still,  thy  vow, 
And  take  me  with  thee  even  now. 
Is  that  broad  bosom  where  I  hung, 
That  neck  to  which  I  fondly  clung, 
Where    flowery  garlands  breathed  their 

scent, 

By  hungry  dogs  and  vultures  rent? 
Shall  no  funereal  honours  grace 
The  parted  lord  of  Raghu's  race, 
Whose  bounty  liberal  fees  bestowed, 
For  whom  the  fires  of  worship  glowed? 
Kausalya  wild  with  grief  will  see 
One  irole  survivor  of  the  three 
Who  in  their  hermit  garments  went 
To  the  dark  woods  in  banishment. 
Then  at  her  cry  shall  Lakshman  tell 
How,  slain  by  night,  the  Vanar's  fell; 
How  to  thy  aide  the  giants  crept, 
And  slew  the  hero  as  he  slept. 
Thy  fate  and  mine  the  queen  will  know, 
And  broken-hearted  die  of  woe. 
For  my  unworthy  sake,  for  mine, 
Rama,  the  glory  of  his  line, 
Who  bridged  his  way  across  the  main, 
Is  basely  in  a  puddle  slain  ; 
And  I,  the  graceless  wife  he  wed, 
Have  brought  this  ruin  on  his  head. 
Me,  too,  oil  him,  O  JtUivan,  slay  : 


The  wife  beside  herlmsband  lay. 

By  his  dear  body  let  me  rest, 

Cheek  close  to  cheek  and  breast  to  breast; 

My  happy  eyes  I  then  will  close, 

And  follow  whither  Rama  goes.' 

Thus  cried  the  miserable  dame  ; 
When'to  the  king  a  warder  came, 
Before  the  giant  monarch  bowed 
And  said  that,  followed  by  a  crowd 
Of  counsellors  and  lords  of  state, 
Prahasta  stood  before  the  gate, 
And,  sent  by  some  engrossing  care, 
Craved  audience  of  his  master  there. 
The  anxious  tyrant  left  his  seat 
And  hastened  forth  the  chief  to  meet  ; 
Then  summ<  ning  his  nobles  all, 
Took  counsel  in  his  regal  hall. 

When  Lanka's  lord  had  left  the  queen, 
The  head  and  bow  no  more  were  seen. 
The  giant  king  his  nobles  eyed, 
And,  terrible  as  Yama,  cried  : 
'  O  faithful  lords,  the  time  is  come  : 
Gather  our  hosts  with  beat  of  drum. 
Nigh  to  the  town  our  foeman  draws  : 
Be  prudent,  nor  reveal  the  cause.' 

The  nobles  listened  and  obeyed  : 
Swift  were  the  gathered  troops  arrayed, 
And  countless  rovers  of  the  night 
Stood  burning  for  the  hour  of  light. 


CANTO  XXXIII. 


SARA  MA'. 

But  Sarama,  of  gentler  mood, 
With  pitying  eyes  the  mourner  viewed, 
Stole  to  her  side  and  softly  told 
Glad  tidings  that  her  heart  consoled, 
Revealing  with  sweet  voice  and  smile 
The  secret  of  the  giant's  guile. 
She,  one  of  those  who  night  and  day 
Watching  in  turns  by  Sita  lay, 
Though  Kakshas  born  felt  pity's  touch, 
And  loved  the  hapless  lady  much. 

'I  heard,'  she  said,  'thy  bitter  cry, 
Heard  Ravan's  speech  and  thy  reply, 
For,  hiding  in  the  thicket  near, 
No  word  or  tone  escaped  mine  ear. 
When  Ravan  hastened  forth  1  bent 
My  steps  to  follow  as  he  went, 
And  learnt  the  secret  cause  that  drove 
The  monarch  from  the  Asoka  grove. 
Believe  rne,  Queen,  thou  needst  not  weep 
For  Rama  slaughtered  in  his  sleep. 
Thy  lion  lord  of  men  defies 
By  day  attack,  by  night  surprise. 
Can  even  giants  slay  with  ease 
Vast  hosts  who  fight  with  brandish 
For  whom,  with  eye  that  never  sleeps, 
His  coiistant  watch  thy  Rama  keeps  I 


Canto  XXXIV. 


TILE  RAM  AY  AN. 


45S 


Lord  of  the  n?ighty  arm  and  chest, 
Of  earthly  warriors  tirst  and  best, 
Whose  fame  through  all  the  regions  rings, 
Proud  scion  of  a  hundred  kings  ; 
'Who  guards  his  life  and  loves  to  lend 
Jiis  saving  succour  to  a  friend  : 
Whose  bow  no  hand  but  his  can  strain,— 
Thy  lord,  thy  Rama  is  not  slain. 
Obedient  to  his  master's  will, 
A  great  magician,  trained  in  ill, 
With  deftest  art  surpassing  thought 
That  marvellous  illusion  wrought. 
Let  rising  hope  thy  grief  dispel  : 
Look  up  and  smile,  for  all  is  well, 
And  gentle  Lakshrni,  Fortune's  Queen, 

!    Regards  thee  with  a  favouring  mien. 

!*  Thy  Rama  with  his  Vanar  train 
Has  thrown  a  bridge  athwart  the  main, 
Has  led  his  countless  legions  o'er, 
And  ranged  them  on  this  southern  sfcore. 
These  eyes  have  seen  the  hero  stand 
Girt  by  his  hosts  on  Lanka's  strand, 
And  breathless  spies  each  moment  bring 
Fresh  tidings  to  the  giant  king  ; 
And  every  peer  and  lord  of  state 
Is  called  to  counsel  and  debate.' 
She  ceased  :  the  sound,  long  loud  and 

clear, 

Of  gathering  armies  smote  her  ear, 
Where  call  of  drum  and  shell  rang  out, 
The  tambour  and  the  battle  shout ; 
Arid,  while  the  din  the  echoes  woke, 
Again  to  Janak's  child  she  spoke  : 
'  Hear,  lady,  hear  the  loud  alarms 
That  call  the  Rakshas  droops  to  arms, 

•   From  stable  and  from  stall  they  lead 
The  elephant  and  neighing  steed, 
Brace  harness  on  with  deftest  care, 
A f)d  chariots  for  the  light  prepare. 
Swift  o'er  the  trembling  ground  career 
Mailed   horsemen   armed  with    axe   and 

spear, 

And  here  and  there  in  road  and  street 
The  terrible  battalions  meet. 
I  hear  the  gathering  near  and  far, 
The  snorting  steed,  the  rattling  car. 
Bold  chieftains,  leaders  of  the  brave, 
Press  deitsely  on,  like  wave  on  wave, 
And  bright  the  evening  sunbeams  glance 
On  helm  and  shield,  on  sword  and  lance. 
Hark,  lady,  to  the  ringing  steel, 
Hark  to  the  rolling  chariot  wheel  : 
Hark  to  the  mettled  courser's  neigh 
And  drums'  loud  thunder  far  away.     • 
The  Queen  of  Fortune  holds  thee  dear, 
For  Lanka's  troops  are  struck  with  fear, 
And  Rama  with  the  lotus  eyes, 
Like  Indra  monarch  of  the  skies, 
With  conquering  arm  will  slay  his  foe 
And  free  his  lady  from  her  woe. 
Soon  will  his  breast  support  thy  head, 


And  tears  of  joy  thine  eyes  will  shed. 
Soon  by  his  mighty  arm  embraced 
The  long-lost  rapture  wilt  thou  taste, 
And  Rama,  meet  for  highest  bliss, 
Will  gain  his  guerdon  in  thy  kiss.' 

CANTO  XXXIV. 
SARAMA'S   TIDINGS. 

Thus  Sarama  her  story  told  : 

And  Sita's  spirit  was  consoled, 

As  when  the  first  fresh  rain  is  shed 

The  parching  earth  is  comforted. 

Then,  filled  with  zeal  for  Sita's  sake, 

Again  in  gentle  tones  she  spake, 

And,  skilled  in  arts  that  soothe  and  please, 

Addressed  the  quieen  in  words  like  these  : 

'  Thy  husband,  lady,  will  I  seek, 

Say  the  fond  words  thy  lips  wo  uld  speak, 

And  then,  unseen  of  any  eye, 

Back  to  thy  side  will  swiftly  fly. 

My  airv  flights  are  speedier  far 

Than  Garuda's  and  the  tempest  are.' 

Then  Sita  spake  :  her  former  woe 
Still  left  her  accents  faint  and  low: 
' 1  know  thy  steps,  which  naught  can  stay, 
Can  urge  through  heaven  and  hell  their 

way. 

Then  if  thy  love  and  changeless  will 
Would  serve  the  helpless  captive  still, 
Go  forth  and  learn  each  plot  and  guile 
Planned  by  the  lord  of  Lanka's  isle. 
With  magic  art  like  maddening  wine 
He  cheats  these  weeping  eyes  of  mine, 
Torments  me  with  his  suit,  nor  spares 
Reproof  or  flattery,  threats  or  prayers. 
These  guards  surround  me  night  and  day  ; 
My  heart  is  sad,  my  senses  stray  ; 
And  helpless  in  my  woe  I  fear 
The  tyrant  Ravan  even  here.' 

Then  Sarama  replied  :  '  I  go 
To  learn  the  purpose  of  thy  foe, 
Soon  by  thy  side  again  to^tand 
And  tell  thee  what  the  king  has  planned/ 
She  sped,  she  heard  with  eager  ears 
The  tyrant  speak  hi*  hopes  and  fears, 
Where,  gathered  at  their  master's  call, 
The  nobles  filled  the  council  hall ; 
Then  swiftly,  to  her  promise  true, 
Back  to  the  Asoka  grove  she  flew. 
The  lady  on  the  grassy  ground, 
Longing  for  her  return,  she  found  ; 
Who  with  a  gentle  smile,  to  greet 
The  envoy,  led  her  to  a  seat. 
Through  her  worn  frame  a  shiver  ran 
As  Sarama  her  tale  began  : 
4  There  stood  the  royal  mother:  sho 
Besought  her  sou  to  set  thee  free, 


454 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  VI. 


And  to  her  counsel,  tears  and  prayers, 

The  elder  nobles  added  theirs : 

*  O  be  the  Maithil  queen  restored 

With  honour  to  her  angry  lord. 

Let  Janasthan's  unhappy  fight 

Be  witness  of  the  hero's  might. 

Hanunian  o'er  the  waters  came 

And  looked  upon  the  guarded  dame. 

Let  Lanka's  chiefs  who  fought  and  fell 

The  prowess  of  the  leader  tell.' 

In  vain  they  sued,  in  vain  she  wept, 

His  purpose  still  unchanged  he  kept. 

AS  clings  the  miser  to  his  gold, 

He  would  not  loose  thee  from  his  hold. 

No.  never  till  in  death  he  lies, 

Will  Lanka's  lord  release  his  prize. 

Soon  slain  by  Hama's  arrows  all 

The  giants  with  their  king  will  fall, 

And  Kama  to  his  home  will  lead 

His  black-eyed  queen  from  bondage  freed/ 

An  awful  sound  that  moment  rose 
From  Lanka's  fast-approaching  foes, 
Where  drum  and  shell  in  mingled  peal 
Made  earth  in  terror  rock  and  reel. 
The  hosts  within  the  walls  arrayed 
Stood  trembling,  in  their  hearts  dismayed; 
Thought  of  the  tempest  soon  to  burst, 
And  Lanka's  lord,  their  ruin,  cursed, 

CANTO  XXXV. 


MALYAVAN'S  SPEECH. 

The  fearful  notes  of  drum  and  shell 

Upon  the  ear  of  R-avan  fell. 

One  moment  quailed  his  haughty  look, 

One  moment  in  his  fear  he  shook. 

But,  soon  recalling  wonted  pride, 

His  counsellors-  he  sternly  eyed, 

And  with  a  voice  that  thundered  through 

The  council  hall  began  anew : 

"  Lords,  I  have  heard^your  tongues  have 

told— 

How  Baghti's  son  is  fierce  and  bold, 
To  Lanka's  shore  has  bridged  his  way, 
And  hither  leads  his  wild  array. 
I  know  your  might,  in  battle  tried, 
Fighting  and  conquering  by  my  side. 
Why  now,  when  such  a  foe  is  near, 
Looks  eye  to  eye  in  silent  fear  I ' 

He  ceased  :  his  mother's  sire,  well  known 
For  wisdom  in  the  council  shown. 
Malyavan,  sage  and  faithful  guide, 
Thus  to  the  monarch's  speech  replied: 
'Long  reigns  the  king  in  safe  repose, 
Unmoved  by  fear  of  vanquished  foes, 
Whose  feet  by  saving  knowledge  led 
In  justice  path  delight  to  tread  : 
Who  knows  to  sheath  the  sword  or  wield, 
To  offer  neace.  to  strike  or  vield  : 


Prefers,  when  foes  are  stronger,  peace, 
And  bids  a  doubtful  conflict  cease. 
Now,  King,  the  choice  before  thee  lies, 
Make  peace  with  Rama,  and  be  wise. 
This  day  the  captive  queen  restore 
Who  brings  the  foe  to  Lanka's  shore. 
The  Sire  by  whom  the  worlds  are  swayed 
Of  yore  the  Gods  and  demons  made. 
With  these  Injustice  sided  ;  those 
Fair  Justice  for  her  champions  chose. 
Still  Justice  dwells  with  Gods  above  ; 
Injustice,  fiends  and  giants  love. 
Thou,  through  the  worlds  that  fear  thee, 

long 

Hast  scorned  the  right  and  loved  the  wrong, 
And  Justice,  with  thy  foes  allied, 
Gives  might  resistless  to  their  side. 
Thou,  guided  by  thy  wicked  will, 
Hast  found  delight  in  deeds  of  ill, 
And  sages  in  their  holy  rest 
Have  trembled,  by  thy  power  oppressed. 
But  they,  who  check  each  vain  desire, 
Are  clothed  with  might  which  burns  like 

fire. 

In  them  the  power  and  glory  live 
Which  zeal  and  saintly  fervour  give. 
Their  constant  task,  their  sole  delight 
Is  worship  and  each  holy  rite, 
To  chant  aloud  the  Veda  hymn, 
Nor  let  the  sacred  fires  grow  dim. 
Now  through  the  air  like  thunder  ring 
The  echoes  of  the  chants  they  sing. 
The  vapours  of  their  incense  rise 
And  veil  with  cloudy  pall  the  skies, 
And  Rakshas  might  grows  weak  and  faint 
Killed  by  the  power  of  sage  and  saint. 
By  Brahma's  boon  thy  life  was  screened 
From  God.  Gandharva,  Yaksha,  tiend  ; 
But  Vanars,  men,  and  bears,  arrayed 
Against  thee  now,  thy  shores  invade. 
Red  meteors,  heralds  of  despair, 
Flash  frequent  through  the  lurid  air, 
Foretelling  to  my  troubled  mind 
The  ruin  of  the  Rakshas  kind. 
With  awful  thunderings  overhead 
Clouds  black  as  night  are  densely  spread, 
And  oozing  from  the  gloomy  pall 
Great  drops  of  blood  on  Lanka  fall. 
Dogs  roam  through  house  and  shrine  to 

steal 

The  sacred  oil  and  curd  and  meal. 
Cats  pair  with  tigers,  hounds  with  swine, 
And  asses'  foals  are  born  of  kine. 
In  these  and  countless  signs  I  trace 
The  ruin  of  the  giant  race. 
'Tis  Vishnu's  self  who  comes  to  storm 
Thy  city,  clothed  in  Rama's  form  ; 
For,  well  I  ween,  no  mortal  hand 
The  ocean  with  a  bridge  has  spanned. 
O  giant  King,  the  dame  release, 
And  sue  to  Radiu's  son  for  peace.' 


Canto  XXXVII. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


455 


CANTO  XXXVI. 


RA'VAN'S   REPLY. 

But  Ravan's  breast  with  fury  swelled, 
And  thus  he  spake  by  Death  impelled, 
While,  under  brows  in  anger  bent, 
Fierce  glances  from  his  eyes  were  sent: 
'  The  bitter  words  which  thou,  misled 
By  friendly  thought,  hast  fondly  said, 
Which  praise  the  foe  and  counsel  fear, 
Unheeded  fall  upon  mine  ear. 
How  canst  thou  deem  a  mighty  foe 
This  Rama  who.  in  stress  of  woe, 
Seeks,  banished  as  his  sire  decreed, 
Assistance  from  the  Vanar  breed  ? 
Am  I  so  feeble  in  thine  eyes, 
Though  feared  by  dwellers  of  the  skies, — 
Whose  might  in  many  a  battle  shown 
The  glorious  race  of  giants  own  ? 
Shall  I  for  fear  of  him  restore 
The  lady  whom  I  hither  bore, 
Exceeding  fair  like  Beauty's  Queen1 
Without  her  well-loved  lotus  seen  ? 
Around  the  chief  let  Lakshman  stand, 
Sugriva,  and  each  Vanar  band,* 
Soon,  Malyavan,  thine  eyes  will  see 
This  boasted  Kama  slain  by  me. 
I  in  the  brunt  of  war  defy 
The  mightiest  warriors  of  the  sky  ; 
And  if  I  stoop  to  combat  men, 
Shall  I  be  weak  and  tremble  then  ? 
This  mangled  trunk  the  foe  may  rend, 
But  Ravan  ne'er  can  yield  or  bend, 
And  be  it  vice  or  virtue,  I 
This  nature  never  will  belie. 
What  marvel  if  he  bridged  the  sea? 
Why  should  this  deed  disquiet  thee  ? 
This,  only  this,  I  surely  know, 
Back  \yith  his  life  he  shall  not  go.' 

Thus  in  loud  tones  the  king  exclaimed, 
And  mute  stood  Malyavan  ashamed. 
His  reverend  head  he  humbly  bent, 
And  slowly  to  his  mansion  went. 
But  Ravan  stayed,  and  deep  in  care 
Held  counsel  with  his  nobles  there, 
All  entrance  to  secure  and  close, 
And  guard  the  city  from  their  foes. 
He  bade  the  chief  Prahasta  wait, 
Commander  at  the  eastern  gate. 
To  fierce  Mahodar,  strong  and  brave, 
To  keep  the  southern  gate,  he  gave, 
Where  Mahaparsva's  might  should  aid 
The  chieftain  with  his  hosts  arrayed. 
To  guard  the  west— no  chief  more  fit- 
He  placed  the  warrior  Indrajit, 


1  Lakshmi    is    the    Goddess    both   of 
beauty  and  fortune,  and  is  represented 
with  a  lotus  in  her  hand. 
30 


His  son,  the  giant's  joy  and  boast, 
Surrounded  by  a  Rakshas  host : 
And  mighty  Saran  hastened  forth 
With  Suka  to  protect  the  north.1 
1 1  will  myself,'  the  monarch  cried, 
'Be  present  on  the  northern  side.' 
These  orders  for  the  walls'  defence 
The  tyrant  gave,  then  parted  thence, 
And,  by  the  hope  of  victory  fired, 
To  chambers  far  within,  retired. 

CANTO  XXXVII. 

PREPARATIONS. 

Lords  of  the  legions  of  the  wood, 
The  chieftains  with  Vibhishan  stood, 
And,  strangers  in  the  foeman's  land, 
Their  hopes  and  fears  in  council  scanned: 
'  See,  see  where  Lanka's  tovvers  ascend, 
Which  Ravan's  power  and  might  defend, 
Which  Gods,  Gandharvas,  fiends  would  fail 
To  conquer,  if  they  durst  assail. 
How  shall  our  legions  pass  within, 
The  city  of  the  foe  to  win, 
With  massive  walls  and  portals  barred 
Which  R&van  keeps  with  surest  guard?' 
With  anxious  looks  the  walls  they  eyed  : 
And  sage  Vibhishan  thus  replied : 
'  These  lords  of  mine*  can  answer  :  they 
Within  the  walls  have  found  their  way, 
The  foeman's  plan  and  order  learned, 
And  hither  to  my  side  returned. 
Now,  Rama,  let  my  tongue  declare 
How  Ravan's  hosts  are  stationed  there. 
Prahasta  heads,  in  warlike  state, 
His  legions  at  the  eastern  gate. 
To  guard  the  southern  portal  stands 
Mahodar,  girt  by  Rakshas  Lands, 
Where  mighty  Mahaparsva,  sent 
By  Ravan's  hest,  his  aid  has  lent. 
Guard  of  the  gate  that  fronts  the  west 
Is  valiant  Indrajit,  the  best 
Of  warriors,  Ravan's  joy  and  pride  ; 
And  by  the  youthful  chieftain's  side 
Are  giants,  armed  for  fierce  attacks 
With  sword  and  mace  and  battle-axe. 
North,  where  approach  is  dreaded  most, 
The  king,  encompassed  with  a  host 
Of  giants  trained  in  war,  whose  hands 
Wield  maces,  swords  and  lances,  stands. 

1  The  poet  appears  to  have  forgotten 
that  Suka  and  Saran  were  dismissed  with 
ignominy  in  Canto  XXIX.,  and  have  not 
been  reinstated. 

*  The  four  who  fled  with  him.  Their 
names  are  Anala,  Panasa,  Sampati,  and 
Pramati, 


456 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  VI. 


All  these  are  chiefs  whom  Ravan  chose 
As  mightiest  to  resist  his  foes  ; 
And  each  a  countless  army1  leads 
With  elephants  and  cars  and  steeds.' 

Then  Rama,  while  his  spirit  burned 
For  battle,  words  like  these  returned : 
'  The  eastern  gate  be  Nila's  care, 
Opponent  of  Prahasta  there. 
The  southern  gate,  with  troops  arrayed 
Let  Angad,  Bali's  son,  invade. 
The  gate  that  fronts  the  falling  sun 
Shall  be  by  brave  Hanuman  won  ; 
Soon  through  its  portals  shall  he  lead 
His  myriads  of  Vanar  breed. 
The  gate  that  fronts  the  north  shall  be 
Assailed  by  Lakshman  and  by  me. 
For  I  myself  have  sworn  to  kill 
The  tyrant  who  delights  in  ill. 
Armed  with  the  boon  which  Brahma  gave, 
The  Gods  of  heaven  he  loves  to  brave.  ^ 
And  through  the  trembling  worlds  he  flies, 
Oppressor  of  the  just  and  wise. 
Thou,  Jambavan,  and  thou.  O  King 
Of  Vanars,  all  your  bravest  bring, 
And  with  your  hosts  in  dense  array 
Straight  to  the  centre  force  your  way. 
But  let  no  Vanar  in  the  storm 
Disguise  him  in  a  human  form. 
Ye  chiefs  who  change  your  shapes  at  will, 
Retain  your  Vanar  semblance  still. 
Thus,  when  we  battle  with  the  foe, 
Both  men  and  Vanars  will  ye  know, 
In  human  form  will  seven  appear  ; 
Myself,  my  brother  Lakshman  here  ; 
Vibhishan,  and  the  four  he  led 
From  Lanka's  city  when  he  fled.' 

Thus  Raghu's  son  the  chiefs  addressed: 
Then,  gazing  on  Suvela's  crest, 
Transported  by  the  lovely  sight, 
He  longed  to  climb  the  mountain  height, 

CANTO  XXXVIII. 

THE  ASCENT  OF  SUVELA. 

1  Come  let  us  scale,'  the  hero  cried, 
4  This  hill  with  various  metals  dyed. 
This  night  upon  the  breezy  crest 
Sugriva,  Lakshman,  I,  will  rest, 
With  sage  Vibhishan,  faithful  friend, 
His  counsel  and  his  lore  to  lend. 
From  those  tall  peaks  each  eager  eye 
The  foeman's  city  shall  espy, 
Who  from  the  wood  my  darling  stole 
And  brought  long  anguish  on  my  soul.' 

1  The  numbers  here  are  comparatively 
moderate  :  ten  thousand  elephants,  ten 
thousand  chariots,  twenty  thousand  horses 
and  ten  million  giants, 


Thus  spake  the  lord  of  men,  and  bent 
II  is  footsteps  to  the  steep  ascent, 
And  Lakshman,  true  in  weal  and  woe, 
Next  followed  with  his  shafts  and  bow. 
Vibhishan  followed,  next  in  place, 
The  sovereign  of  the  Vanar  race, 
And  hundreds  of  the  forest  kind 
Thronged  with  impetuous  feet,  behind. 
The  chiefs  in  wooas  and  mountains  bred 
Fast  followed  to  Suvela's  head, 
And  gazed  on  Lanka  bright  and  fail- 
As  some  gay  city  in  the  air. 
On  glittering  gates,  on  ramparts  raised 
By  giant  hands,  the  chieftains  gazed. 
They  saw  the  mighty  hosts  that,  skilled 
In  arts  of  war,  the  city  filled, 
And  ramparts  with  new  ramparts  lined, 
The  swarthy  hosts  that  stood  behind. 
With  spirits  burning  for  the  fight 
They  saw  the  giants  from  the  height, 
And  from  a  hundred  throats  rang  out 
Defiance  and  the  battle  shout. 
Then  sank  the  sun  with  dying  flame, 
And  soft  the  shades  of  twilight  came, 
And  the  full  moon's  delicious  light 
Was  shed  upon  the  tranquil  night. 

CANTO  XXXIX. 


LANKA'. 

They  slept  secure :  the  sun  arose 
And  called  the  chieftains  from  repose. 
Before  the  wondering  Vanars,  gay 
With  grove  and  garden,  Lanka  lay, 
Where  golden  buds  the  Champak  showed, 
And  bright  with  bloom  Asoka  glowed, 
And  palm  and  Sal  and  many  a  tree 
With  leaf  and  flower  were  fair  to  see. 
They  looked  on  wood  and  lawn  and  glade 
On  emerald  grass  and  dusky  shade, 
Where  creepers  filled  the  air  with  scent, 
And  luscious  fruit  the  branches  bent, 
Where  bees  inebriate  loved  to  throng, 
And  each  sweet  bird  was  loud  in  song, 
The  wondering  Vanars  passed  the  bound 
That  circled  that  enchanting  ground, 
And  as  they  came  a  sweet  breeze  through 
The  odorous  alleys  softly  blew. 
Some  Vanars,  at  their  king's  behest, 
Onward  to  bannered  Lanka  pressed, 
While,  startled  by  the  strangers'  tread, 
The  birds  and  deer  before  them  fled. 
Earth  trembled  at  each  step  they  took, 
And  Lanka  at  their  shouting  shook. 
Bright  rose  before  their  wondering  eyes 
Trikuta's  peak  that  kissed  the  skies, 
And,  clothed  with  flowers  of  every  hue, 
Afar  its  golden  radiance  threw. 
Most  fair  to  see,  the  mountain's  head 


Canto  XLL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


45/ 


A  hundred  leagues  in  length  was  spread. 
There  Ravan's  town,  securely  placed, 
The  summit*  of  Trikuta  graced. 
O'er  leagues  of  land  she  stretched  in  pride 
A  hundred  long  and  twenty  wide. 
They  saw  a  lofty  wall  enfold 
The  city,  built  of  blocks  of  gold. 
They  saw  the  beams  of  morning  fall 
On  dome  and  fane  within  the  wall, 
Bright  with  the  shine  that  mansion  gives 
Where  Vishnu  in  his  glory  lives. 
White-creste'd  like  the  Lord  of  Snows 
Before  them  Ravan's  palace  rose. 
High  on  a  thousand  pillars  raised 
With  gold  and  precious  stone  it  blazed, 
Guarded  by  giant  warders,  crown 
And  ornament  of  Lanka's  town. 


CANTO  XL. 


RA'VAN  ATTACKED. 

Still  stood  the  son  of  Raghu  where 

Suvela's  peak  rose  high  in  air, 

And  with  Sugriva  turned  his  eye 

To  scan  each  quarter  of  the  sky. 

There  on  TrikuU,  nobly  planned 

And  built  by  Visvakarma's  hand, 

He  saw  the  lovely  Lanka,  dressed 

In  all  her  varied  beauty,  rest. 

High  on  a  tower  above  the  gate 

The  tyrant  stood  in  kingly  state. 

The  royal  canopy  displayed 

Above  him  lent  its  grateful  shade, 

And  servants,  from  the  giant  band, 

His  cheek  with  jewelled  chowries  fanned. 

Red  sandal  o'er  his  breast  was  spread, 

His  ornaments  and  robe  were  red  : 

Thus  shows  a  cloud  of  darksome  hue 

With  golden  sunbeams  flashing  through. 

While  Rama  and  the  chiefs  intent 

Upon  the  king  their  glances  bent, 

Up  sprang  Sugriva  from  the  ground 

And  reached  the  turret  at  a  bound. 

Un terrified  the  Vanar  stood, 

And  wroth,  with  wondrous  hardihood, 

The  king  in  bitter  words  addressed, 

And  thus  his  scorn  and  hate  expressed  : 

*  King  of  the  giant  race,  in  me 
The  friend  and  slave  of  Rama  see. 
Lord  of  the  world,  he  gives  me  power 
To  smite  thee  in  thy  fenced  tower.' 
While  through  the  air  his  challenge  rang, 
At  Ravan's  face  the  Vanar  sprang, 
Snatched  from  his  head  the  kingly  crown 
And  dashed  it  in  his  fury  down. 
Straight  at  his  foe  the  giant  flew, 
His  mighty  arms  about  him  threw, 
With  strength  resistless  swung  him  round 
And  dashed  him  panting  to  the  ground, 


Unharmed  amid  the  storm  of  blows 
Swift  to  his  feet  Sugriva  rose. 
Again  in  furious  tight  they  met : 
With  streams  of  blood  their  limbs  were  wet, 
Each  grasping  his  opponent's  waist. 
Thus  with  their  branches  interlaced, 
Which,  crimson  with  the  flowers  of  spring, 
From  side  to  side  the  breezes  swing, 
In  furious  wrestle  you  may  see 
The  Kinsuk  and  the  Seemul  tree.1 
They  fought  with  fists  and  hands,  alike 
Prepared  to  parry  and  to  strike. 
Long  time  the  doubtful  combat,  waged 
With  matchless  strength  and  fury,  raged. 
Each  fiercely  struck,  each  guarded  well, 
Till,  closing,  from  the  tower  they  fell, 
And,  grasping  each  the  other's  throat, 
Lay  for  an  instant  in  the  moat. 
They  rose,  and  each  in  fiercer  mood 
The  sanguinary  strife  renewed. 
Wei  1  matched  in  size  and  strength  and  skill 
They  fought  the  dubious  battle  still. 
While  sweat  and  blood  their  limbs  bedewed 
They  met,  retreated,  and  pursued  : 
Each  stratagem  and  art  they  tried, 
Stood  front  to  front  and  swerved  aside. 
His  hand  a  while  the  giant  stayed 
And  called  his  magic  to  his  aid. 
But  brave  Sugriva,  swift  to  know 
The  guileful  purpose  of  the  foe, 
Gained  with  light  leap  the  upper  air, 
And  breath  and  strength  and  spirit  there; 
Then,  joyous  as  for  victory  won, 
Returned  to  Raghu's  royal  son. 

CANTO  XLI. 
RAMA'S  ENVOY. 

When  Rama  saw  each  bloody  trace 
On  King  Sugriva's  limbs  and  face, 
Ie  cried,  while,  sorrowing  at  the  view, 
His  arms  about  his  friend  he  threw  : 
Too  venturous  chieftain,  kings  like  us 

ring  not  their  lives  in  peril  thus  ; 

or,  save  when  counsel  shows  the  need, 
tempt  so  bold,  so  rash  a  deed, 
lemember.  I,  Vibhishan,  all 
lave  sorrowed  fearing  ior.Jtliy  fall. 
)  do  not— for  us  all  I  speak— 
'hese  desperate  adventures  seek. 
I  could  not,'  cried  Sugriva,  'brook 
Jpon  the  giant  king  to  look, 


The  Kinsuk,  also  called  Palasa,  is 
he  Butea  Frondosa.  a  tree  that  bears 
eautiful  red  crescent-shaped  blossoms 
nd  is  deservedly  a  favourite  with  poets. 
Jhe  Seemul  or  3almali  in  the  silk-cottoa 
ree  which  also  bears  red  blossoms. 


458 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  VI. 


Nor  challenge  to  the  deadly  strife 
The  fiend  who  robbed  thee  of  thy  wife.' 
'Now  Lakshman,  marshal,'  Kama  cried, 
'  Our  legions  where  the  woods  are  wide, 
And  stand  we  ready  to  oppose 
The  fury  of  our  giant  foes. 
This  day  our  armies  shall  ascend 
The  walls  which  fiavan's  powers  defend, 
And  floods  of  Rakshas' blood  shall  stain 
The  streets  encumbered  with  the  slain.' 
Down  from  the  peak  he  came,  and  viewed 
The  Vanars'  ordered  multitude. 
Fach  captain  there  for  battle  burned, 
Each  fiery  eye  to  Lanka  turned. 
On,  where  the  royal  brothers  led 
To  Lanka's  walls  the  legions  sped. 
The  northern  gate,  where  giant  foes 
Swarmed  round  their  monarch ,  Ramachose 
Where  he  in  person  might  direct 
The  battle,  and  his  troops  protect. 
What  arm  but  his  the  post  might  keep 
Where,  strong  as  he  who  sways  the  deep,1 
Mid  thousands  armed  with  bow  and  mace, 
Stood  Ravan  mightiest  of  his  race  ? 
The  eastern  gate  was  Nila's  post, 
Where  marshalled  stood  his  Vanar  host, 
And  Mainda  with  his  troops  arrayed, 
And  Dwivid  stood  to  lend  him  aid. 
The  southern  gate  was  Angad's  care, 
Who  ranged  his  bold  battalions  there. 
Hanuman  by  the  port  that  faced 
The  setting  sun  his  legions  placed, 
And  King  Sugriva  held  the  wood 
East  of  the  gate  where  Ravan  stood. 
On  every  side  the  myriads  met, 
Arid  Lanka's  walls  of  close  beset 
That  scarce  the  roving  gale  could  win 
A  passage  to  the  hosts  within. 
Loud  as  the  angry  ocean's  roar 
When  wild  waves  lash  the  rocky  shore, 
Ten  thousand  thousand  throats  upsent 
A  shout  that  tore  the  firmament, 
And  Lanka  with  each  grove  and  brook 
And  tower  and  wall  and  rampart  shook. 
The  giants  heard,  and  were  appalled  : 
Then  Raghu's  son  to  Angad  called, 
And,  led  by  kingly  duty,*  gave 
This  order  merciful  as  brave  : 
4  Go,  Angad,  Ravan's  presence  seek, 
And  thus  my  words  of  warning  speak  : 
'  How  art  thou  changed  and  fallen  now, 
O  Monarch  of  the  giants,  thou 
Whose  impious  fury  would  not  spare 
Saint,  nymph,  or  spirit  of  the  air  ; 
Whose  foot  in  haughty  triumph  trod 
On  Yaksha,  king,  and  Serpent  God  : 


J  Varuna. 

51  The  duty  of  a  king  to  save  the  lives 
of  his  people  arid  avoid  bloodshed  until 
milder  methods  have  been  tried  in  vain. 


How  art  thou  fallen  from  thy  pride 
Which  Brahma's  favour  fortified  1 
With  myriads  at  thy  Lanka's  gate 
I  stand  my  righteous  ire  to  sate, 
And  punish  thee  with  sword  and  flame, 
The  tyrant  fiend  who  stole  my  darne. 
Now  show  the  might,  employ  the  guile, 
O  Monarch  of  the  giants  isle, 
Which  stole  a  helpless  dame  away  : 
Call  up  thy  power  and  strength  to-day. 
Once  more  I  warn  thee.  Kakshas  King, 
This  hour  the  Maithil  lady  bring. 
And,  yielding  while  there  yet  is  time, 
Seek,  suppliant,  pardon  for  the  crime, 
Or  I  will  leave  beneath  the  sun 
No  living  Rakshas,  no,  not  one. 
In  vain  from  battle  wilt  thou  fly, 
Or  borne  on  piniona  seek  the  sky  ; 
The  hand  of  llama  shall  not  spare  ; 
His  fiery  shaft  shall  smite  thee  there.' 

He  ceased:  and  Angad  bowed  his  head; 
Thence  like  embodied  flame  he  sped, 
And  lighted  from  his  airy  road 
Within  the  Rakshas  king's  abode. 
There  sate,  the  centre  of  a  ring 
Of  counsellors,  the  giant  king. 
Swift  through  the  circle  Angad  pressed, 
And  spoke  with  fury  in  his  breast ; 
*  Sent  by  the  lord  of  Kosal's  land, 
His  envoy  here,  O  King,  I  stand, 
Angad  the  ^on  of  Bali ;  fame 
Has  haply  taught  thine  ears  my  name. 
Thus  in  the  words  of  Kama  I 
Am  come  to  warn  thee  or  defy  : 
Come  forth,  and  fighting  in  the  van 
Display  the  spirit  of  a  man. 
This  arm  shall  slay  thee,  tyrant  :  all 
Thy  nobles,  kith  and  kin  shall  fall: 
And  earth  and  heaven,  from  terror  freed, 
Shall  joy  to  see  the  oppressor  bleed. 
Vibhishan,  "when  his  foe  is  slain, 
Anointed'king  in  peace  shall  reign. 
Once  more  I  counsel  thee  :  repent, 
Avoid  the  mortal  punishment. 
With  honour  due  the  dame  restore, 
And  pardon  for  thy  sin  implore.' 

Loud  rose  the  king's  infuriate  cry: 
'  Seize,  seize  the  Vanar  :  let  him  die.' 
Four  of  his  band  their  lord  obeyed, 
And  eager  hands  on  Angad  laid. 
He  purposing  his  strength  to  show 
Gave  no  resistance  to  the  foe, 
But  swiftly  round  his  captors  cast 
His  mighty  arms  and  held  them  fast. 
Fierce  shout  and  cry  around  him  rang  : 
Light  to  the  palace  roof  he  sprang, 
There  his  detaining  arms  unwound, 
And  hurled  the  giants  to  the  ground. 
Then,  smiting  with  a  fearful  stroke, 
A  turret  from  the  roof  he  broke,— 
As  when  the  fiery  levin  sent 


Canto  XLI1I. 


THE  RA MAYAN. 


459 


By  Indra  from  the  clonds  has  rent 
The  proud  peak  of  the  Lord  of  Snow,— • 
And  flung  the  stony  mass  below. 
Attain  with  loud  terrific  cry 
He  sprang  exulting  to  the  sky, 
And.  joyous  for  his  errand  done, 
Stood  by  the  side  of  Raghu's  son. 


CANTO  XLIL 


THE  SALLY. 

Still  was  the  cry,  *  The  Vanar  foes 
Around  the  leaguered,  city  close.' 
King  Ravan  from  the  terrace  gazed 
And  saw,  with  eyes  where  fury  blazed, 
The  Vanar  host  in  serried  ranks 
Press  to  the  moat  and  line  the  banks, 
And,  first  in  splendour  and  in  place, 
The  lion  lord  of  Raghu's  race. 
And  Rama  looked  on  Lanka  where 
Gay  flags  were  streaming  to  the  air, 
And,    while    keen    sorrow    pierced    him 

through, 
His  loving  thoughts  to  Sita  flew  : 

*  There,  there  in  deep  affliction  lies 
My  darling  with  the  fawn-lil^e  eyes. 
There  on  the  cold  bare  ground  she  keeps 
Sad  vigil  and  for  Rama  weeps.' 

Mad  with  the  thought,  '  Charge,  charge,' 
he  cried. 

•  Let  earth  with  Rakshas  blood  be  dyed.' 

Responsive  to  his  call  rang  out 
A  loud,  a  universal  shout, 
As  myriads  filled  the  moat  with  stone, 
Trees,  rocks,  and  mountains  overthrown, 
And  charging  at  their  leader's  call 
Pressed  forward  furious  to  the  wall. 
Some  in  their  headlong  ardour  scaled 
The  rampart's  height,  the  guard  assailed, 
And  many  a  ponderous  fragment  rent 
From  portal,  tower,  and  battlement. 
Huge  gates  adorned  with  burnished  gold 
Were  loosed  and  lifted  from  their  hold  ; 
And  post  and  pillar,  with  a  sound 
Like  thunder,  fell  upon  the  ground. 
At  every  portal,  east  and  west 
And  north  and  south,  the  chief  tains  pressed 
Each  in  his  post  appointed  led 
His  myriads  in  the  forest  bred. 

*  Charge,  let  the  gates  be  opened  wide  : 
'  Charge,  charge,  my  giants,'  Ravan  cried. 
They  heard  his  voice,  and  loud  and  long 
Rang  the  wild  clamour  of  the  throng, 
And  shell  and  drum  their  notes  upsent, 
And  every  martial  instrument. 
Forth,  at  the  bidding  of  their  lord 
From  every  gate  the  giants  poured, 
^s,  when  the  waters  rise  and  swell, 
waves  preceding  waves  impel. 


Again  from  every  Vanar  throat 
A  scream  of  fierce  defiance  smote 
The  welkin  :  earth  and  sea  and  sky 
Reechoed  with  the  awful  cry. 
|  The  roar  of  elephants,  the  neigh 
Of  horses  eager  for  the  fray, 
The  frequent  clash  of  warriors'  steel, 
The  rattling  of  the  chariot  wheel. 
Fierce  was  the  deadly  fight :  opposed 
In  terrible  array  they  closed, 
As  when  the  Gods  of  heaven  enraged 
With  rebel  fiends  wild  battle  waged. 
Axe,  spear,  and  mace  were  wielded  well  ; 
At  every  blow  a  Vanar  fell. 
But  shivered  rock  and  brandished  tree 
Brought  many  a  giant  on  his  knee, 
To  perish  in  his  turn  beneath 
The  deadly  wounds  of  nails  and  teeth. 


CANTO  XLIII. 


THE  SINGLE  COMBATS. 

Brave  chiefs  of  each  opposing  side 

Their  strength  in  single  combat  tried. 

Fierce  Indrajit  the  tight  began 

With  Angad  in  the  battle's  van. 

Sampati,  strongest  of  his  race, 

Stood  with  Prajangha  face  to  face. 

Hanuman,  Jambumali  met 

In  mortal  opposition  set. 

Vibhishan,  brother  of  the  lord 

Of  Lanka,  raised  his  threatening  sword, 

And  singled  out,  with  eyes  aglow 

With  wrath,  $atrughna  for  his  foe. 

The  mighty  Gaja  Tapan  sought, 

A  nd  Nila  with  Nikumbha  fought. 

Sugriva,  Vanar  king,  defied 

Fierce  Praghas  long  in  battle  tried, 

And  Lakshman  fearless  in  the  fight 

Encountered  Virupaksha's  might. 

To  meet  the  royal  Rama  came 

Wild  Agniketu  fierce  as  flame  ; 

Mitraghana,  he  who  loved  to  strike 

His  foeman  and  his  friend  alike  ; 

With  Rasmiketu,  known  and  feared 

Where'er  his  ponderous  flag  was  reared  ; 

And  Yajnakopa  whose  delight 

Was  ruin  of  the  sacred  rite. 

These  met  and  fought,  with  thousands 

more, 

And  trampled  earth  was  red  with  gore, 
Swift  as  the  bolt  which  Indra  sends 
When  fire  from  heaven  the  mountain  rends 
Smote  Indrajit  with  furious  blows 
On  Angad  queller  of  his  foes. 
But  Angad  from  his  foeman  tore 
T  he  murderous  mace  the  warrior  bore, 


460 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  VI. 


And  low  in  dust  his  coursers  rolled, 
His  driver,  and  his  car  of  gold. 
Struck  by  the  shafts  Prajangha  sped, 
The  Vanar  chief  Sampati  bled, 
But,  heedless  of  his  gashes,  he 
Crushed  down  the  giant  with  a  tree. 
Then  car-borne  Jambumali  smote 
Hanuman  on  the  chest  and  throat ; 
But  at  the  car  the  Vanar  rushed, 
And  chariot,  steeds,  and  rider  crushed. 
Sugriva  whirled  a  huge  tree  round, 
And  struck  fierce  Praghas  to  the  ground. 
One  arrow  shot  from  Lakshman's  bow 
Laid  mighty  Virupaksha  low. 
His  giant  foes  round  Rama  pressed 
And  shot  their  shafts  at  head  and  breast ; 
But,  when  the  iron  shower  was  spent, 
Four  arrows  from  his  bow  he  sent, 
And  every  missile,  deftly  sped  ; 
Cleft  from  the  trunk  a  giant  head.1 

CANTO  XLIV. 

THE  NIGHT. 

The  lord  of  Light  had  sunk  and  set : 
Night  came  ;  the  foeman  struggled  yet ; 
And  fiercer  for  the  gloom  of  night 
Grew  the  wild  fury  of  the  fight. 
Scarce  could  each  warrior's  eager  eye 
The  foeman  from  the  friend  descry. 

•  Rakshas  or  Vanar  ?  say;'  cried  each, 
And  foe  knew  foeman  oy  his  speech. 

'  Why  wilt  thou  fly  ?  O  warrior,  stay  : 

•  Turn  on  the  foe.  and  rend  and  slay  :' 
Such  were  the  cries,  such  words  of  fear 
Smote  through  thegloom  each  listeningear. 
Each  swarthy  rover  of  the  night 
Whose  golden  armour  flashed  with  light, 
Showed  like  a  towering  hill  embraced 
By  burning  woods  about  his  waist. 

The  giants  at  the  Vanars  flew, 
And  ravening  ate  the  foes  they  slew  : 
With  mortal  bite  like  serpent's  fang, 
The  Vanars  at  the  giants  sprang, 
And  car  and  steeds  and  they  who  bore 
The  pennons  fell  bedewed  with  gore. 
No  serried  band,  no  firm  array 
The  fury  of  their  charge  could  stay. 
Down  went  the  horse  and  rider,  down 
Went  giant  lords  of  high  renown. 
Though  midnight's  shade  was  dense  and 

dark, 
With  skill  that  swerved  not  from  the  mark 

1  I  have  omitted  several  of  these  single 
aombats,  as  there  is  little  variety  in  the 
details  and  each  duel  results  in  the  victory 
of  the  Vanar  or  his  ally. 


Their  bows  the  sons  of  Raghu  drew, 
And  each  keen  shaft  a  chieftain  slew. 
Uprose  the  blinding  dust  from  meads 
Ploughed  by  the  cars  and  trampling  steeds, 
And  where  the  warriors  fell  the  flood 
Was  dark  and  terrible  with  blood. 
Six  giants'  singled  Rama  out, 
And  charged  him  with  a  furious  shout 
Loud  as  the  roaring  of  the  sea 
When  every  wind  is  raging  free. 
Six  times  he  shot :  six  heads  were  cleft ; 
Six  giants  dead  on  earth  were  left. 
Nor  ceased  he  yet :  his  bow  he  strained, 
And  from  the  sounding  weapon  rained 
A  storm  of  shafts  whose  fiery  glare 
Filled  all  the  region  of  the  air  ; 
And  chieftains  dropped  before  his  aim 
Like  moths  that  perish  in  the  flame. 
Earth  glistened  where  the  arrows  fell, 
As  shines  in  autumn  nights  a  dell 
Which  fireflies,  flashing  through  the  gloom, 
With  momentary  light  illume. 

Hut  Indrajit,  when  Bali's  son2 
The  victory  o'er  the  foe  had  won, 
Saw  with  a  fury-kindled  eye 
His  mangled  steeds  and  driver  die  ; 
Then,  lost  in  air,  he  fled  the  fight, 
And  vanished  from  the  victor's  sight. 
The  Gods  and  saints  glad  voices  raised, 
And  Angad  for  his  virtue  praised  ; 
And  Raghu's  sons  bestowed  the  meed 
Of  honour  due  to  valorous  deed. 

Compelled  his  shattered  car  to  quit, 
Rage  filled  the  soul  of  Indrajit, 
Who  brooked  not,  strong  by  Brahma's  grace 
Defeat  from  one  of  Vanar  race. 
In  magic  mist  concealed  from  view 
His  bow  the  treacherous  warrior  drew, 
Arid  Raghu's  sons  were  first  to  feel 
The  tempest  of  his  winged  steel. 
Then  when  his  arrows  tailed  to  kill 
The  princes  who  defied  him  still, 
He  bound  them  with  the  serpent  noose,3 
The  magic  bond  which  none  might  loose, 

CANTO  XLV. 
INDRAJIT'S  VICTORY. 

Brave  Rdma,  burning  still  to  know 
The  station  of  his  artful  foe, 

1  Yajnasatru,  Mahap/irsva,  Mahodar, 
Vajradanshtra,  3uka,  and  Saran. 

*  Angad. 

3  A  mysterious  weapon  consisting  of 
serpents  transformed  to  arrows  which 
deprived  the  wounded  object  of  all  sense 
and  Dower  of  motion. 


Canto  XLVL 


THE  RAMATAN. 


461 


Gave  to  ten  chieftains,  mid  the  best 
Of  all  the  host,  his  high  behest. 
ISwif  t  rose  in  air  the  Vanar  band  : 
Each  region  of  the  sky  they  scanned  : 
But  Ravan's  son  by  magic  skill 
Checked  them  with  arrows  swifter  still, 
When  streams  of  blood  from  chest  and  side 
The  dauntless  Vanars'  limbs  had  dyed, 
The  giant  in  his  misty  shroud 
Showed  like  the  sun  obscured  by  cloud. 
Like  serpents  hissing  through  the  air, 
His  arrows  smote  the  princely  pair; 
And  from  their  limbs  at  every  rent 
A  stream  of  rushing  blood  was  sent. 
Like  Kinsuk  trees  they  stood,  that  show 
In  spring  their  blossoms'  crimson  glow. 
Then  Indrajit  with  fury  eyed 
Ikshvaku's  royal  sous,  and  cried  : 

*  Not  mighty  Indra  can  assail 
Or  see  me  when  I  choose  to  veil 
My  form  in  battle  :  and  can  ye, 
Children  of  earth,  contend  with  me  ? 
The  arrowy  noose  this  hand  has  shot 
Has  bound  you  with  a  hopeless  knot  ; 
And,  slaughtered  by  rny  shafts  and  bow, 
To  Yama's  hall  this  hour  ye  go.' 

He  spoke,  and  shouted.    Then  anew 
The  arrows  from  his  bowstring  flew, 
And  pierced,  well  aimed  with  perfect  art, 
Each  limb  and  joint  and  vital  part. 
Transfixed  with  shafts  in  every  limb. 
Then-strength  relaxed.theireyesgrewdim. 
As  two  tall  standards  side  by  side, 
With  each  sustaining  rope  untied, 
Fall  levelled  by  the  howling  blast, 
So  earth's  majestic  lords  at  last 
Beneath  the  arrowy  tempest  reeled, 
And  prostrate  pressed  the  battle  field, 


CANTO  XLVL 
INDRAJIT'S  TRIUMPH. 

The  Vanar  chiefs  whose  piercing  eyes 
Scanned  eagerly  the  earth  and  skies, 
Saw  the  brave  brothers  wounded  sore 
Transfixed  with  darts  and  stained  with  gore. 
The  monarch  of  the  Vanar  race, 
With  wise  Vibhishan,  reached  the  place  ; 
Angad  and  Nila  came  behind, 
And  others  of  the  forest  kind, 
And  standing  with  Hanum^n  there 
Lamented  for  the  fallen  pair. 
Their  melancholy  eyes  they  raised  ; 
In  fruitless  search  a  while  they  gazed. 
But  magic  arts  Vibhishan  knew  ; 
Not  hidden  from  his  keener  view, 
Though  veiled  by  magic  from  the  rest, 
The  son  of  Ravan  stood  confessed. 


Fierce  Indrajit  with  savage  pride 
The  fallen  sons  of  Raghu  eyed, 
And  every  giant  heart  was  proud 
As  thus  the  warrior  cried  aloud : 

'  Slain  by  mine  arrows  Rama  lies, 
And  closed  in  death  are  Lakshman's  eyes. 
Dead  are  the  mighty  princes  who  * 
Dushan  and  Khara  smote  and  slew. 
The  Gods  and  fiends  mav  toil  in  vain 
To  free  them  from  the  binding  chain. 
The  haughty  chief,  my  father's  dread, 
Who  drove  him  sleepless  from  his  bed, 
While  Lanka,  troubled  like  a  brook 
In  rain  time,  heard  his  name  and  shook  : 
He  whose  fierce  hate  our  lives  pursued 
Lies  helpless  by  my  shafts  subdued. 
Now  fruitless  is  each  wondrous  deed 
Wrought  by  the  race  the  forests  breed, 
And  fruitless  every  toil  at  last 
Like  cloudlets  when  the  rains  are  past.' 
Then  rose  the  shout  of  giants  loud 
As  thunder  from  a  bursting  cloud, 
When,  deeming  Rama,  dead,  they  raised 
Their  voices  and  the  conqueror  praised. 

Still  motionless,  as  lie  the  slain, 
The  brothers  pressed  the  bloody  plain. 
No  sigh  they  drew,  no  breath  they  heaved, 
And  lay  as  though  of  life  bereaved. 
Proud  of  the  deed  his  art  had  done, 
To  Lanka's  town  went  Ravar*'sson, 
Where,  as  he  passed,  all  fear' was  stilled, 
And  every  heart  with  triumph  filled, 
Sugriva  trembled  as  he  viewed 
Each  fallen  prince  with  blood  bedewed, 
And  in  his  eyes  which  overflowed 
With  tears  the  flame  of  anger  glowed. 
'Calm,'  cried  Vibhishan,  'calm  thy  fears* 
And  stay  the  torrent  of  'thy  tears. 
Still  must  the  chance  of  battle  change^ 
And  victory  still  delight  to  range. 
Our  cause  again  will  she  befriend 
And  bring  us  triumph  in  the  end. 
This  is  not  death  :  each  prince  will  break 
The  spell  that  holds  him,  and  awake  ; 
Nor  long  shall  numbing  magic  bind 
The  mighty  arm,  the  lofty  mind.' 

He  ceased :  his  finger  bathed  in  dew 
Across  Sugriva's  eyes  he  drew. 
From  dulling  mist  his  vision  freed', 
And  spoke  these  words  to  suit  the  need  : 
'No  time  is  this  for  fear  :  away 
With  fainting  heart  and  weak  delay. 
Now,  e'en  the  tear  which  sorrow  wrings 
From  loving  eyes  destruction  brings. 
Up,  on  to  battle  at  the  head 
Of  those  brave  troops  which  Rama  led. 
Or  guardian  by  his  side  remain 
Till  sense  and  strength  the  prince  regain. 
Soon  shall  the  trance -bound' pair  revive, 
And  from  our  hearts  all  sorrow  drive. 
Though  prostrate  on  the  earth  he  lie, 


462 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


Boole  VI. 


Deem  not  that  Rama's  death  is  nigh  ; 
Deem  not  that  Lakshnii  will  forget 
Or  leave  her  darling  champion  yet. 
Rest  here  and  be  thy  heart  consoled  ; 
Ponder  my  word?,  be  firm  and  bold. 
I.  foremost  in  the  battle  field, 
Will  rally  all  who  faint  or  yield. 
Their  staring  eyes  betray  their  fear  ; 
They  whisper  each  in  other's  ear. 
They,  when  they  hear  my  cheering  cry 
And  see  the  friend  of  R&ma  nigh, 
Will  cast  their  gloom  and  fears  away 
Like  faded  wreaths  of  yesterday.' 

Thus  calmed  he  King  Sugriva's  dread; 
Then  gave  new  heart  to  those  who  fled. 
Fierce  Indrajit,  his  soul  on  fire 
With  pride  of  conquest,  sought  his  sire, 
Raised  reverent  hands,  and  told  him  all, 
The  battle  and  the  princes'  fall. 
Rejoicing  at  his  foes'  defeat 
Upsprang  the  monarch  from  his  seat, 
Girt  by  his  giant  courtiers:  round 
His  warrior  son  his  arms  he  wound, 
Close  kisses  on  his  head  applied, 
And  heard  again  how  Rama  died. 

CANTO  XLVII. 

SITA'. 

Still  on  the  ground  where  R£ma  slept 
Their  faithful  watch  theVaiiars  kept. 
There  Angad  stood  o'er  whelmed  with  grief 
And  many  a  lord  and  warrior  chief  ; 
And,  ranged  in  densest  mass  around, 
Their  tree-armed  legions  held  the  ground. 
Far  ranged  each  Vanar's  eager  eye, 
Now  swept  the  land,  now  sought  the  sky, 
All  fearing,  if  a  leaf  was  stirred, 
A  Rakshas  in  the  sound  they  heard. 
The  lord  of  Lanka  in  his  hall, 
Rejoicing  at  his  foeman's  fall, 
Commanded  and  the  warders  came 
Who  ever  watched  the  Maithil  dame. 
•Go,'  cried  the  Rakshas  king,  *  relate 
To  Janak's  child  her  husband's  fate. 
Low  on  the  earth  her  Rama  lies, 
And  dark  in  death  are  Lakshman's  eyes. 
Bring  forth  my  car  and  let  her  ride 
To  view  the  chieftains  side  by  side. 
The  lord  to  whom  her  fancy  turned 
For  whose  dear  sake  my  love  she  spurned, 
Lies  smitten,  as  he  fiercely  led 
The  battle,  with  his  brother  dead. 
Lead  forth  the  royal  lady  :  go, 
Her  husband's  lifeless  body  show. 
Then  from  all  doubt  and  terror  free 
Her  softening  heart  will  turn  to  me.' 
They  heard  his  speech:   the  car  was 
brought ; 


That  shady  grove  the  warders  sought 
Where,  mourning  Rama  night  and  day, 
The  melancholy  lady  lay. 
They  placed  her  in  the  car  and  through 
The  yielding  air  they  swiftly  flew. 
The  lady  looked  upon  the  plain, 
Looked  on  the  heaps  of  Vanar  slain, 
Saw  where,  triumphant  in  the  fight, 
Thronged  the  fierce  rovers  of  the  night, 
And  Vanar  chieftains,  mournful-eyed, 
Watched  by  the  fallen  brothers'  side. 
There  stretched  upon  his  gory  bed 
Each  brother  lay  as  lie  the  dead, 
With  shattered  mail  and  splintered  bow, 
Pierced  by  the  arrows  of  the  foe. 
When  on  the  pair  her  eyes  she  bent, 
Burst  from  her  lips  a  wild  lament. 
Her  eyes  o'erflowed,  she  groaned  and  sighed 
And  thus  in  trembling  accents  cried  : 


CANTO  XLVIII. 
SITA'S  LAMENT. 

'  False  are  they  all,  proved  false  to-day, 
The  prophets  of  my  fortune,  they 
Who  in  the  tranquil  time  of  old 
A  blessed  life  for  me  foretold, 
Predicting  I  should  never  know 
A  childless  dame's,  a  widow's  woe, 
False  are  they  all,  their  words  are  vain. 
For  thou,  my  lord  and  life,  art  slain. 
False  was  the  priest  and  vain  his  lore 
Who  blessed  me  in  those  days  of  yore 
By  Rama's  side  in  bliss  to  reign  ; 
For  thou,  my  lord  and  life,  art  slain. 
They  hailed  me  happy  from  my  birth, 
Proud  empress  of  the  lord  of  earth. 
They  blessed  me— but  the  thought  is  pain- 
For  thou,  my  lord  and  life,  art  slain. 
Ah,  fruitless  hope  !  each  glorious  sign 
That  stamps  the  future  queen  is  mine, 
With  no  ill-omened  mark  to  show 
A  widow's  crushing  hour  of  woe. 
They  say  my  hair  is  black  and  fine, 
They  praise  my  brows'  continuous  line  ; 
My  even  teeth  divided  well, 
My  bosom  for  its  graceful  swell. 
They  praise  my  feet  and  fingers  oft ; 
They  say  my  skin  is  smooth  and  soft, 
And  call  me  happy  to  possess 
The  twelve  fair  marks  that  bring  success. 
But  ah,  what  profit  shall  I  gain  \ 
Thou,  O  my  lord  and  life,  art  slain. 
The  flattering  seer  in  former  days 
My  gentle  girlish  smile  would  praise, 

1  On  each  foot,  and  at  the  root  of  ead 
finger, 


Canto  XLIX. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


463 


And  swear  that  holy  water  shed 
By  Brahman  hands  upon  my  head 
Should  make  me  queen,  a  monarch's  bride: 
How  is  the  promise  verified  ? 
Matchless  in  might  the  brothers  slew 
In  Jariasthan  the  giant  crew. 
And  forced  the  indomitable  sea 
To  let  them  pass  to  rescue  me. 
Theirs  was  the  fiery  weapon  hurled 
By  him  who  rules  the  watery  world  ;! 
Theirs  the  dire  shaft  by  Indra  sped  ; 
Theirs  was  the  mystic  Brahma's  Head.* 
In  vain  they  fought,  the  bold  and  brave  : 
A  coward's  hand  their  death- wounds  gave. 
By  secret  shafts  and  magic  spell 
The  brothers,  peers  of  Indra,  fell. 
That  foe,  if  seen  by  Rama's  eye 
One  moment,  had  not  lived  to  fly. 
Though  swift  as  thought,  his  utmost  speed 
Had  failed  him  in  the  hour  of  need. 
No  might,  no  tear,  no  prayer  may  stay 
Fate's  dark  inevitable  day. 
Nor  could  their  matchless  valour  shield 
These  heroes  on  the  battle  field. 
I  sorrow  for  the  noble  dead, 
I  mourn  my  hopes  for  ever  fled; 
But  chief  my  weeping  eyes  o'erflow 
For  Queen  Kausalya's  hopeless  woe. 
The  widowed  queen  is  counting  now 
Each  hour  prescribed  by  Rama's  vow, 
And  lives  because  she  longs  to  see 
Once  more  her  princely  sons  and  me.' 

Then  Trijata,3  of  gentler  mould 
Though  Rakshas  born,  her  grief  consoled: 
4  Dear  Queen,  thy  causeless  woe  dispel: 
Thy  husband  lives,  and  all  is  well. 
Look  round :  in  every  Vanar  face 
The  light  of  joyful  hope  I  trace. 
Not  thus,  believe  me,  shine  the  eyes 
Of  warriors  when  their  leader  dies 
An  Army,  when  the  chief  is  dead. 
Flies  from  the  field  dispirited. 
Here,  undisturbed  in  firm  array, 
The  Vanars  by  the  brothers  stay. 
Love  prompts  my  speech:  no  longer  grieve; 
Ponder  my  counsel,  and  believe. 
These  lips  of  mine  from  earliest  youth 
Have  spoken,  and  shall  speak,  the  truth. 
Deep  in  my  heart  thy  gentle  grace 
And  patient  virtues  hold  their  place. 
Turn,  lady,  turn  once  more  thine  eye  : 
Though  pierced  with  shafts  the  heroes  lie, 

1  Varun. 

*  The  name  of  one  of  the  mystical 
weapons  the  command  over  which  was 
given  by  Visvamitra  to  Rama,  as  related 
in  Book  I. 

3  One  of  Sita's  guard,  and  her  com- 
forter on  a  former  occasion  also. 


On  brows  and  cheeks  with  blood-drops  wet 
The  light  of  beauty  lingers  yet. 
Such  beauty  ne'er  is  found  in  death, 
But  vanishes  with  parting  breath. 
O,  trust  the  hope  these  tokens  give  ; 
The  heroes  are  not  dead,  but  live.' 

Then  Sita  joined  her  hands,  and  sighed, 
'  O,  may  thy  words  be  verified  !' 
The  car  was  turned,  which  fleet  as  thought 
The  mourning  queen  to  Lanka  brought, 
They  led  her  to  the  garden,  where 
Again  she  yielded  to  despair, 
Lamenting  for  the  chiefs  who  bled 
On  earth's  cold  bosom  with  the  dead. 

CANTO  XLIX. 
RAMA'S  LAMENT. 

Banged  round  the  spot  where  Rama  fell 

Each  Vanar  chief  stood  sentinel. 

At  length  the  mighty  hero  broke 

The  trance  that  held  him,  and  awoke. 

He  saw  his  senseless  brother,  dyed 

With  blood  from  head  to  foot,  and  cried; 

'What  have  I  now  to  do  with  life 

Or  rescue  of  my  prisoned  wife, 

When  thus  before  my  weeping  eyes, 

Slain  in  the  fight,  my  brother  lies  ? 

A  queen  like  Sita  I  may  find 

Among  the  best  of  womankind, 

But  never  such  a  brother,  tried 

In  war,  my  guardian,  friend,  and  guide. 

If  he  be  dead,  the  brave  and  true, 

I  will  not  live  but  perish  too. 

How,  reft  of  Lakshman,  shall  I  meet 

My  mother,  and  Kaikeyi  greet? 

My  brother's  eager  question  brook, 

And  fond  Sumitra's  longing  look  ? 

What  shall  1  say,o'erwhelmed  with  shame 

To  cheer  the  miserable  dame  ? 

How,  when  she  hears  her  son  is  dead, 

Will  her  sad  heart  be  comforted  ? 

Ah  me,  for  longer  life  unfit 

This  mortal  body  will  I  quit ; 

For  Lakshman  slaughtered  for  my  sake, 

From  sleep  of  death  will  never  wake. 

Ah  when  I  sank  oppressed  with  care, 

Thy  gentle  voice  could  soothe  despair. 

And  art  thou,  O  my  brother,  killed  ? 

Is  that  dear  voice  for  ever  stilled  ? 

Cold  are  those  lips,  my  brother,  whence 

Came  never  word  to  breed  offence  {\ 

Ah.  stretched  upon  the  gory  plain 

My  brother  lies  untimely  slain  ; 

Numbed  is  the  mighty  arm  that  slew 

The  leaders  of  the  giant  crew. 

Transfixed  with  shafts,  with  blood-streams 

red. 
Thou  liest  ou  thy  lowly  bed  : 


464 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  VI, 


So  sinks  to  rest,  his  journey  done, 
Mid  arrowy  rays  the  crimson  sun. 
Thou,  when  from  home  and  sire  I  fled, 
The  wood's  wild  ways  with  me  wouldst 

tread  : 

Now  close  to  thine  my  steps  shall  be, 
For  1  in  death  will  follow  thee. 
Vibhishan  now  will  curse  my  name, 
And  R4ma  as  a  braggart  blame, 
Who  promised— but  his  word  is  vain— 
That  he  in  Lanka's  isle  should  reign. 
Return,  Sugriva  :  reft  of  me 
Lead  back  thy  Vanars  o'er  the  sea, 
Nor  hope  to  battle  face  to  face 
With  him  who  rules  the  giant  race, 
Well  have  ye  done  and  nobly  fought, 
And  death  in  desperate  combat  sought. 
All  that  heroic  might  can  do, 
Brave  Vanars,  has  been  done  by  you. 
My  faithful  friends  1  now  dismiss  : 
Return  :  my  last  farewell  is  this.' 

Bedewed  with  tears  was  every  cheek 
As  thus  the  Vanars  heard  him  speak. 
Vibhishan  on  the  field  had  stayed 
The  Vanar  hosts  who  fled  dismayed. 
Now  lifting  up  his  mace  on  high 
With  martial  step  the  chief  drew  nigh. 
The  hosts  who  watched  by  Rama's  side 
Beheld  his  shape  and  giant  stride. 
'Tis  he,  'tis  Ravan's  son,  they  thought : 
And  all  in  flight  their  safety  sought. 


CANTO  L. 


THE  BROKEN  SPELL. 

Sugriva  viewed  the  flying  crowd, 
And  thus  to  Angad  cried  aloud  : 
'  Why  run  the  trembling  hosts,  as  flee 
Storm-scattered  barks  across  the  sea  ?' 
'Dost  thou  not  mark,'  the  chief  replied, 
*  Transfixed    with    shafts,     with    blood- 
streams dyed, 

With  arrowy  toils  about  them  wound, 
The  sons  of  Raghu  on  the  ground  V 

That  moment  brought  Viohishan  near: 
Sugriva  knew  the  cause  of  fear, 
And  ordered  Jamba  van,  who  led 
The  bears,  to  check  the  hosts  that  fled. 
The  king  of  bears  his  hest  obeyed  : 
The  Vauars'  headlong  flight  was  stayed. 
A  little  while  Vibhishan  eyed 
The  brothers  fallen  side*  by  side. 
His  giant  fingers  wet  with  dew 
Across  the  heroes'  eyes  he  drew, 
Still  on  the  pair  his  sad  look  bent, 
And  spoke  these  words  in  wild  lament : 
4  Ah  for  the  mighty  chiefs  brought  low 
By  coward  hand  and  stealthy  blow  ! 
Brave  pair  who  loved  the  open  tight, 


Slain  by  that  rover  of  the  night. 
Dishonest  is  the  victory  won 
By  Indrajit  my  brother's  son. 
I  on  their  might  for  aid  relied, 
And  in  my  cause  they  fought  and  died. 
Lost  is  the  hope  that  soothed  each  pain  : 
I  live,  but  live  no  more  to  reign, 
While  Lanka's  lord,  untouched  by  ill, 
Exults  in  safe  defiance  still.' 

'  Not  thus,'  Sugriva  said,  *  repine, 
For  Lanka's  isle  shall  still  be  thine. 
Nor  let  the  tyrant  and  his  son 
Exult  before  the  fight  be  done. 
These  royal  chiefs,  though  now  dismayed, 
Freed  from  the  spell  by  Garud's  aid, 
Triumphant  yet  the  foe  shall  meet 
And  lay  the  robber  at  their  feet.' 

His  hope  the  Vanar  monarch  told, 
And  thus  Vibhishan's  grief  consoled. 
Then  to  Sushen  who  at  his  side 
Expectant  stood,.  Sugriva  cried  : 
'When  these  regain  their  strength  and  sense, 
Fly,  bear  them  to  Kishldndha  hence. 
Here  with  my  legions  will  I  stay, 
The  tyrant  and  his  kinsmen  slay, 
And,  rescued  from  the  giant  king, 
The  Maithil  lady  will  I  bring, 
Like  Glory  lost  of  old,  restored 
By  Sakra,  heaven's  almighty  lord.' 

Sushen  made  answer  :  *  Hear  me  yet : 
When  Gods  and  fiends  in  battle  met, 
So  fiercely  fought  the  demon  crew, 
So  wild  a  storm  of  arrows  flew, 
That  heavenly  warriors  faint  with  pain, 
Sank  smitten  by  the  ceaseless  rain. 
Vrihaspati,1  with  herb  and  spell, 
Cured  the  sore  wounds  of  those  who  fell. 
And,  skilled  in  arts  that  heal  and  save, 
New  life  and  sense  and  vigour  gave. 
Far,  on  the  .Milky  Ocean's  shore, 
Still  grow  those  herbs  in  boundless  store  ; 
Let  swiftest  Vanars  thither  speed 
And  bring  them  for  our  utmost  need. 
Those  herbs  that  on  the  mountain  spring 
Let  Panas  and  Sampati  bring, 
For  well  the  wondrous  leaves  they  know. 
That  heal  each  wound  and  life  bestow. 
Beside  that  sea  which,  churned  of  yore, 
The  amrit  on  its  surface  bore, 
Where  the  white  billows  lash  the  land, 
Chandra's  fair  height  and  Drona  stand. 
Planted  by  Gods  each  glittering  steep 
Looks  down  upon  the  milky  deep. 
Let  fleet  Hanuman  bring  us  thence 
Those  herbs  of  wondrous  influence.' 

Meanwhile  the  rushing  wind  grew  loud, 
Red  lightnings  flashed  from  banks  of  cloud. 
The  mountains  shook,  the  wild  waves  rose, 
And  smitten  with  resistless  blows 


The  preceptor  of  the  Gods, 


Canto  LIL 


THE  RAM  AT  AN. 


465 


Unrooted  fell  each  stately  tree 
That  fringed  the  margin  of  the  sea. 
All  life  within  the  waters  feared  : 
Then,  as  the  Vanars  gazed,  appeared 
King  Garud's  self,  a  wondrous  sight, 
Disclosed  in  flames  of  fiery  light. 
From  his  fierce  eye  in  sudden  dread 
All  serpents  in  a  moment  fled. 
And  those  transformed  to  shafts  that  bound 
The  princes  vanished  in  the  ground. 
On  Raghu's  sons  his  eyes  he  bent, 
And  hailed  the  lords  armi potent. 
Then  o'er[them  stooped  the  feathered  king, 
And  touched  their  faces  with  his  wing. 
His  healing  touch  their  pangs  allayed, 
And  closed  each  rent  the  shafts  had  made. 
Again  their  eyes  were  bright  and  bold, 
Again  the  smooth  skin  shone  like  gold, 
Again  within  their  shell  enshrined 
Came  memory  and  each  power  of  mind; 
And,  from  those  numbing  bonds  released, 
Their  spirit,  zeal,  and  strength  increased. 
Firm  on  their  feet  they  stood,  and  then 
Thus  Rama  spake,  the  lord  of  men: 

1  By  thy  dear  grace  in  sorest  need 
From  deadly  bonds  we  both  are  freed. 
To  these  glad  eyes  as  welcome  now 
As  Aja1  or  my  sire  art  thpu. 
Who  art  thou,  mighty  being  ?  say, 
Thus  glorious  in  thy  bright  array.' 
He  ceased  :  the  king  of  birds  replied, 
While  flashed  his  eye  with  joy  and  pride: 
'  In  me,  O  Raghu's  son,  behold 
One  who  has  loved  thee  from  of  old  : 
Garud,  the  lord  of  all  that  fly. 
Thy  guardian  and  thy  friend  am  I. 
Not  all  the  Gods  in  heaven  could  loose 
These  numbing  bonds,  this  serpent  noose, 
Wherewith  fierce  Ravan's  son,  renowned 
For  magic  arts,  your  limbs  had  bound. 
Those  arrows  fixed  in  every  limb 
Were  mighty  snakes,  transformed  by  him. 
Blood-thirsty  race,  they  live  beneath 
The  earth,  and  slay  with  venomed  teeth. 
On,  smite  the  lord  of  Lanka's  isle, 
But  guard  you  from  the  giants'  guile 
Who  each  dishonest  art  employ 
And  by  deceit  brave  foes  destroy. 
So  shall  the  tyrant  Ravan  bleed, 
And  Sita  from  his  power  be  freed.' 
Thus  Garud  spake  :  then,  swift  as  thought, 
The  region 'of  the  sky  he  sought, 
Where  in  the  distance  like  a  blaze 
Of  fire  he  vanished  from  the  gaze. 

Then  the  glad  Vanars'  joy  rang  out 
In  many  a  wild  tumultuous  shout, 
And  the  loud  roar  of  drum  and  shell 
Startled  each  distant  sentinel. 


1  Rama's  grandfather. 


CANTO  LI. 


DHU'MRAKSHA'S  SALLY. 

King  Ravan,  where  he  sat  within, 
Heard  from  his  hall  the  deafening  din, 
And  with  a  spirit  ill  at  ease 
Addressed  his  lords  in  words  like  these  : 

*  That  warlike  shout,  those  joyous  cries, 
Loud  as  the  thunder  of  the  skies, 
Upsent  from  every  Vanar  throat, 
Some  new-born  confidence  denote. 
Hark,  how  the  sea  and  trembling  shore 
Re-echo  with  the  Vanars'  roar. 
Though  arrowy  chains,  securely  twined 
Both  Kama  and  his  brother  bind, 
Still  must  the  fierce  triumphant  shout 
Disturb  my  soul  with  rising  doubt. 
Swift  envoys  to  the  army  send, 
And  learn  what  change  these  cries  portend.* 

Obedient,  at  their  master's  call, 
Fleet  giants  clombthe  circling  wall. 
They  saw  the  Vanars  formed  and  led  : 
They  saw  Sugriva  at  their  head, 
Tiie  brothers  from  their  bonds  released: 
And  hope  grew  faint  and  fear  increased. 
Their  faces  pale  with  doubt  and  dread, 
Back  to  the  giant  king  they  sped, 
And  to  his  startled  ear  revealed 
The  tidings  of  the  battle  field. 

The  flush  of  rage  a  while  gave  place 
To  chilling  fear  that  changed  his  face: 

'  What  ?'  cried  the  tyrant.'  are  my  foes 
Freed  from  the  binding  snakes  that  close 
With  venomed  clasp  round  head  and  limb, 
Bright  as  the  sun  and  fierce  like  him: 
The  spell  a  God  bestowed  of  yore, 
The  spell  that  never  failed  before  ? 
If  arts  like  these  be  useless,  how 
Shall  giant  strength  avail  us  now 
Go  forth,  Dhumraksha,  good  at  need, 
The  bravest  of  my  warriors  lead : 
Force  through  the  foe  thy  conquering  way, 
And  Rama  and  the  Vanars  slay.' 

Before  his  king  with  reverence  due 
Dhumraksha  bowed  him,  and  withdrew. 
Around  him  at  his  summons  came 
Fierce  legions  led  by  chiefs  of  fame. 
Well  armed  with  sword  and  spear  and  mace, 
They  hurried  to  the  gathering  place, 
And  rushed  to  battle,  borne  at  speed 
By  elephant  and  car  and  steed. 


CANTO  LIT. 


DHU'MRAKSHA'S  DEATH. 

The  Vanars  saw  the  giant  foe 
Pour  from  the  gate  in  gallant  show, 


466 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Eoolc  V 


Rejoiced  with  warriors'  fierce  delight 
And  shouted,  longing  for  the  fight. 
Near  came  the  hosts  and  nearer  yet : 
Dire  was  the  tumult  as  they  met, 
As,  serried  line  to  line  opposed, 
The  Vanars  and  the  giants  closed. 
Fierce  on  the  foe  the  Vanars  rushed, 
And,  wielding  trees,  the  foremost  crushed; 
But,  feathered  from  the  heron's  wing, 
With  eager  flight  from  sounding  string. 
Against  them  shot  with  surest  aim 
A  ceaseless  storm  of  arrows  came  ; 
And,  pierced  in  head  and  chest  and  side, 
Full  many  a  Vanar  fell  and  died. 
They  perished  slain  in  fierce  attacks 
With  sword  and  pike  and  battle-axe  ; 
But  myriads  following  undismayed 
Their  valour  in  the  tight  displayed. 
Unnumbered  Vanars  rent  and  torn 
With  shaft  and  spear  to  earth  were  borne. 
But  crushed  by  branchy  trees  and  blocks 
Of  jagged  stone  and  shivered  rocks 
Which  the  wild  Vanars  wielded  well 
The  bravest  of  the  giants  fell. 
Their  trampled  banners  strewed  the  fields, 
And  broken  swords  and  spears  and  shields  ; 
And,  crushed  by  blows  which  none  might 

stay, 

Cars,  elephants,  and  riders  lay. 
Dhuinraksha  turned  his  furious  eye 
And  saw  his  routed  legions  fly. 
Still  dauntless,  with  terrific  blows, 
He  struck  and  slew  his  foremost  foes. 
At  every  blow,  at  every  thrust, 
He  laid  a  Vanar  in  the  dust. 
So  fell  they  neath  the  sword  and  lance 
In  battle's  wild  Gandharva1  dance, 
Where  clang  of  bow  and  clash  of  sword 
Did  duty  for  the  silvery  chord, 
And  hoofs  that   rang   and    steeds    that 

neighed 

Loud  concert  for  the  dancers  made. 
So  fiercely  from  Dhumraksha's  bow 
His  arrows  rained  in  ceaseless  flow, 
The  Vanar  legions  turned  and  fled 
To  all  the  winds  discomfited. 
Hanuman  saw  the  Vanars  fly  : 
He  heaved  a  mighty  rock  on  high, 
His  keen  eyes  flashed  with  wrathful  fire, 
And.  rapid  as  the  Wind  his  sire, 
Strong  as  the  rushing  tempests  are, 
He  hurled  it  at  the  advancing  car. 
Swift  through  the  air  the  missile  sang : 
The  giant  from  the  chariot  sprang, 
Ere  crushed  by  that  terrific  blow 
Lay  pole  and  wheel  and  flag  and  bow. 
Hanuman's  eyes  with  fury  blazed  ; 
A  mountain's  rocky  peak  he  raised, 

1  The    Gandharvas    are   warriors    and 
Minstrels  of  Indra'i  heaven, 


Poised  it  on  high  in  act  to  throw, 
And  rushed  upon  his  giant  foe. 
Dhuinraksha  saw  :  he  raised  his  mace 
And  smote  Hanuman  on  the  face, 
Who  maddened  by  the  wound's  keen  par 
Again  upon  his  foeman  sprang  ; 
And  on  the  giant's  head  the  rock 
Descended  with  resistless  shock. 
Crushed  was  each  limb  :  a  shapeless  ma 
He  lay  upon  the  blood-stained  grass. 

CANTO  LIII. 


VAJRADANSHTRA'S  SALLY. 

When  Ravan  in  his  palace  heard 
The  mournful  news,  bis  wrath  \vasstirre< 
And,  gasping  like  a  furious  snake, 
To  Vajradanshtra  thus  he  spake: 

*  Go  forth,  my  fiercest  captain,  lead 
The  bravest  of  the  giants'  breed. 
Go  forth,  the  sons  of  Raghu  slay 
And  by  their  side  Sugriva  lay.' 

He  ceased:  the  chieftain  bowed  hishea 
And  forth  with  gathered  troops  he  sped. 
Cars,  camels,  steeds  were  well  arrayed, 
And  coloured  banners  o'er  them  played. 
Rings  decked  his  arms  :  about  his  waist 
The  life-protecting  mail  was  braced, 
And  on  the  chieftain's  forehead  set 
Glittered  his  cap  and  coronet. 
Borne  on  a  bannered  car  that  glowed 
With  golden  sheen  the  warrior  rode, 
And  footmen  marched  with  spear  an 

sword 

And  bow  and  mace  behind  their  lord. 
In  pomp  and  pride  of  warlike  state 
They  sallied  from  the  southern  gate, 
But  saw,  as  on  their  way  they  sped, 
Dread  signs  around  and  overhead. 
For  there  were  meteors  falling  fast, 
Though  not  a  cloud  its  shadow  cast ; 
And  each  ill-omened  bird  and  beast, 
Forboding  death,  the  fear  increased, 
While  many  a  giant  slipped  and  reeled, 
Falling  before  he  reached  the  field, 
They  met  in  mortal  strife  engaged, 
And  long  and  fierce  the  battle  raged. 
[  Spears,    swords    uplifted,   gleamed   an 

flashed, 

And  many  a  chief  to  earth  was  dashed. 
A  ceaseless  storm  of  arrows  rained, 
And  limbs  were  pierced  and  blood -dh 

tained. 

Terrific  was  the  sound  that  filled 
The  air,  and  every  heart  was  chilled, 
As  hurtling  o'er  the  giants  flew 
The  rocks  and  trees  which  Vanars  threv 
Fierce  as  a  hungry  lion  when 
Unwary  deer  approach  his  den, 


lanto  LIV. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


467 


Angad,  his  eyes  with  fury  red, 
Waving  a  tree  above  his  head, 
Hushed  with  wild  charge  which  none 

could  stay 

Where  stood  the  giants'  dense  array. 
Like  tall  trees  levelled  by  the  blast 
l-Jef ore  him  fell  the  giants  fast, 
A.nd  earth  that  streamed  with  blood  was 

Btrown 
With  warriors,  steeds,  and  cars  o'erthrown. 


CANTO  LIV. 

VAJRADANSHTRA'S  DEATH, 

The  giant  leader  fiercely  rained 
His  arrows  and  the  tight  maintained. 
Each  time  the  clanging  cord  he  drew 
His  certain  shaft  a  Vanar  slew. 
Then,  as  the  creatures  he  has  made 
Fly  to  the  Lord  of  Life  for  aid, 
To  Angad  for  protection  fled 
The  Vanar  hosts  dispirited. 
Then  raged  the  battle  fiercer  yet 
When  Angad  and  the  giant  met. 
A  hundred  thousand  arrows,  hot 
With  flames  of  fire,  the  giant  shot ; 
And  every  shaft  he  deftly  sent 
His  foeinan'a  body  pierced  and  rent. 
From  Angad's  limbs  ran  floods  of  gore  : 
A  stately  tree  from  earth  he  tore, 
Which,  maddened  as  his  gashes  bled, 
He  hurled  at  his  opponent's  head. 
His  bow  the  dauntless  giant  drew  ; 
Co  meet  the  tree  swift  arrows  flew, 
Checked  the  huge  missile's  onward  way, 
And  harmless  on  the  earth  it  lay. 
A  while  the  Vanar  chieftain  gazed, 
Then  from  the  earth  a  rock  he  raised 
Rent  from  a  thunder-splitten  height, 
And  cast  it  with  resistless  might. 
The  giant  marked,  and,  mace  in  hand, 
Leapt  from  his  chariot  to  the  sand, 
Ere  the  rough  mass  descending  broke 
The  seat,  the  wheel,  the  pole  and  yoke. 
Then  Angad  seized  a  shattered  hill, 
Whereon  the  trees  were  flowering  still, 
And  with  full  force  the  jagged  peak 
Fell  crashing  on  the  giant's  cheek. 
He  staggered,  reeled,  and  fell  :  the  blood 
3-ushed  from  the  giant  in  a  flood. 
Reft  of  his  might,  each  sense  astray, 
A  while  upon  the  sand  he  lay. 
But  strength  and  wandering  sense  returned 
Again  his  eyes  with  fury  burned, 
And  with  his  mace  upraised  on  high 
He  wounded  Angad  on  the  thigh. 
Then  from  his  hand  his  mace  he  threw, 
And  closer  to  his  foeman  drew. 


Then  with  their  fists  they  fought,  and 

smote 

On  brow  and  cheek  and  chest  and  throat. 
Worn  out  with  toil,  their  limbs  bedewed, 
With  blood,  the  strife  they  still  renewed, 
Like  Mercury  and  fiery  Mars 
Met  in  fierce  battle  mid  the  stars. 

A  while  the  deadly  fight  was  stayed : 
Bach  armed  him  with  liis  trusty  blade 
Whose  sheath  with  tinkling  bells  supplied, 
And  golden  net,  adorned  his  side  ; 
And  grasped  his  ponderous  leather  shield 
To  fight  till  one  should  fall  or  yield. 
Uunumbered  wounds  they  gave  and  took  : 
Their  wearied  bodies  reeled  and  shook. 
At  length  upon  the  sand  that  drank 
Streams  of  their  blood  the  warriors  sank, 
But  as  a  serpent  rears  his  head 
Sore  wounded  by  a  peasant's  tread, 
So  Angad,  fallen  on  his  knees, 
Yet  gathered  strength  his  sword  to  seize  ; 
And,  severed  by  the  glittering  blade, 
The  giant's  head  on  earth  was  laid. 


I  omit  Cantos  LV.,  LVL,  LVII.,  and 
LVIII.  which  relate  how  Akampan  and 
Frahasta  sally  out  and  fall.  There  is  little 
novelty  of  incident  in  these  Cantos  and 
the  result  are  exactly  the  same  as  before. 
In  Canto  LV.  Akampan,  at  the  command 
of  Ravan,  leads  forth  his  troops.  Evil 
omens  are  seen  and  heard.  The  enemies 
meet,  and  many  fall  on  each  side,  the 
Vanars  transfixed  with  arrows,  the 
Rakshases  crushed  with  rocks  and  trees. 

In  Canto  LVL  Akampan  sees  that  the 
Rakshases  are  worsted,  and  fights  with 
redoubled  rage  and  vigour.  The  Vanars 
fall  fast  under  his  "nets  of  arrows." 
Hanuman  comes  to  the  rescue.  He  throws 
mountain  peaks  at  the  giant  which  are 
dexterously  stopped  with  flights  of  arrows; 
and  at  last  beats  him  down  and  kills  him 
with  a  tree. 

In  Canto  LVII.  Ravan  is  seriously 
alarmed.  He  declares  that  he  himself, 
Kumbhakarna  or  Frahasta,  must  go  forth. 
Prahasta  sallies  out  vaunting  that  the 
fowls  of  the  air  shall  eat  their  fill  of 
Vanar  flesh. 

In  Canto  LVIII.  the  two  armies  meet. 
Dire  is  the  conflict ;  ceaseless  is  the  rain 
of  stones  and  arrows.  At  last  Nila  meets 
Prahasta  and  breaks  his  bow.  Prahasta 
leaps  from  his  car,  and  the  giant  and  the 
Vanar  fight  on  foot.  Nila  with  a  huge 
tree  crushes  his  opponent  who  falls  like  ft 
tree  when  its  roots  are  cut, 


468 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  V 


CANTO  LIX. 


BAVAN  S  SALLY. 

They  told  him  that  the  chief  was  killed, 
And  Bavan's  breast  with  rage  was  filled. 
Then,  fiercely  moved  by  wrath  and  pride, 
Thus  to  his  lords  the  tyrant  cried  : 

'No  longer,  nobles,  may  we  show 
This  lofty  scorn  for  such  a  foe 
By  whom  our  bravest,  with  his  train 
Of  steeds  and  elephants,  is  slain.' 
Myself  this  day  will  take  the  field, 
And  Raghu's  sons  their  lives  shall  yield.' 

High  on  the  royal  car,  that  glowed 
With  glory  from  his  face,  he  rode  ; 
And  tambour  shell  and  drum  pealed  out, 
And  joyful  was  each  giant's  shout. 
A  mighty  host,  with  eyeballs  red 
Like  flames  of  kindled  fire,  he  led. 
He  passed  the  city  gate,  and  viewed, 
Arrayed,  the  Vanar  multitude, 
Those  wielding  massy  rocks,  and  these 
Armed  with  the  stems  of  uptorn  trees, 
And  Rama  with  his  eyes  aglow 
With  warlike  ardour  viewed  the  foe, 
And  thus  the  brave  Vibhishan,  best 
Of  weapon-wielding  chiefs,  addressed  : 
1  What  captain  leads  this  bright  array 
Where  lances  gleam  and  banners  play, 
And  thousands  armed  with  spear  arid  sword 
Await  the  bidding  of  their  lord  ? ' 

'  Seest,  thou,'  Vibhishan  answered, '  one 
Whose  face  is  as  the  morning  sun, 
Preeminent  for  hugest  frame? 
Akampan1  is  the  giant's  name, 
Behold  that  chieftain,  chariot-borne, 
Whom  Brahma's  chosen  gifts  adorn. 
He  wields  a  bow  like  Indra'sown  ; 
A  lion  on  his  flag  is  shown, 
His  eyes  with  baleful  fire  are  lit : 
'Tis  Bavan's  son,  'tis  Indrajit. 
There,  brandishing  in  mighty  hands 
His  huge  bow,  Atikaya  stands. 
And  that  proud  warrior  o'er  whose  head 
A  moon- bright  canopy  is  spread  ; 
Whose  might,  in  many  a  battle  tried, 
Has  tamed  imperial  Indra's  pride  ; 
Who  wears  a  crown  of  burnished  gold, 
Is  Lanka's  lord  the  lofty-souled.' 

He  ceased  :  and  Kama  knew  his  foe, 
And  laid  an  arrow  on  his  bow : 
'  Woe  to  the  wretch,'  he  cried, '  whom  fate 
Abandons  to  my  deadly  hate.' 
He  spoke,  and,  firm  by  Lakshman's  side, 
The  giant  to  the  fray  defied. 

1  '  It  is  to  be  understood,'  says  the 
commentator,  *  that  this  is  not  the  Akam- 
pan who  has  recently  been  slain.' 


The  lord  of  Lanka  bade  his  train 
Of  warriors  by  the  gates  remain, 
To  guard  the  city  from  surprise 
By  Bama's  forest-born  allies. 
Then  as  some  monster  of  the  sea 
Cleaves  swift-advancing  billows,  he 
Charged  with  impetuous  ouset  through 
The  foe.  and  cleft  the  host  in  two. 
Sugriva  ran,  the  king  to  meet: 
A  hill  uprooted  from  its  seat 
He  hurled,with  trees  that  graced  the  heigh 
Against  the  rover  of  the  night ; 
But  cleft  with  shafts  that  checked  its  wa 
Harmless  upon  the  earth  it  lay. 
Then  fiercer  Ravan's  fury  grew, 
An  arrow  from  his  side  he  drew, 
Swift  as  a  thunderbolt,  aglow 
With  tire,  and  launched  it  at  the  foe. 
Through  flesh  and  bone  a  way  it  found, 
And  stretched  Sugriva  on  the  ground. 
Sushen  and  Nala  saw  him  fall, 
Gavaksha,  Gavaya  heard  their  call, 
Arid,  poising  hills,  in  act  to  fling 
They  charged  amain  the  giant  king. 
They  charged,  they  hurled  the  hills  in  vain 
He  checked  them  with  his  arrowy  rain, 
And  every  brave  assailant  felt 
The  piercing  wounds  his  missiles  dealt, 
Then  smitten  by  the  shafts  that  came 
Keen,  fleet,  and  thick,  with  certain  aim, 
They  fled  to  Rama,  sure  defence 
Against  the  oppressor's  violence, 
Then,  reverent  palm  to  palm  applied, 
Thus  Lakshman  to  his  brother  cried  : 
'  To  me,  my  lord,  the  task  entrust 
To  lay  this  giant  in  the  dust.' 
'  Go,  then,'  said  Rama,  '  bravely  fight ; 
Beat  down  this  rover  of  the  night. 
But  he,  unmatched  in  bold  emprise, 
Fears  not  the  Lord  of  earth  and  skies, 
Keep  on  thy  guard :  with  keenest  eye 
Thy  moments  of  attack  espy. 
Let  hand  and  eye  in  due  accord 
Protect  thee  with  the  bow  and  sword.' 

Then  Lakshman  round  his  brother  thre^ 
His  mighty  arms  in  honour  due, 
Bent  lowly  down  his  reverent  head, 
And  onward  to  the  battle  sped. 
Hanuman  from  afar  beheld 
How  Ravan's  shafts  the  Vanars  quelled  : 
To  meet  the  giant's  car  he  ran, 
Baised  his  right  arm  and  thus  began  : 
•  If  Brahma's  boon  thy  life  has  screened 
From  Yaksha,  God,  Gandharva,  fiend, 
With  these  contending  fear  no  ill, 
But  tremble  at  a  Vanar  still.' 
With  fury  flashing  from  his  eye 
The  lord  of  Lanka  made  reply: 
'  Strike,  Vanar,  strike  :  the  fray  begin, 
And  hope  eternal  fame  to  win. 
This  arm  shall  prove  thee  in  the  strife 


Canto  LIX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


469 


And  end  thy  glory  and  thy  life.' 
'  Remember,'  cried  the  Wind-God's  son, 
1  Remember  all  that  I  have  done, 
My  prowess,  King,  thou  knowest  well, 
Shown  in  the  fight  when  Aksha1  fell.' 

With  heavy  hand  the  giant  smote 
Hanuman  on  the  chest  and  throat, 
Who  reeled  and  staggered  to  and  fro, 
Stunned  for  a  moment  by  the  blow, 
Till,  mustering  strength,  his  hand  he  reared 
And  struck  the  foe  whom  Indra  feared. 
His  huge  limbs  bent  beneath  the  shock, 
As  mountains,  in  an  earthquake,  rock, 
And  from  the  Gods  and  sages  pealed 
Shouts  of  loud  triumph  as  he  reeled. 
But  strength  returning  nerved  his  frame  : 
His  eyeballs  flashed  with  fiercer  flame. 
No  living  creature  might  resist 
That  blow  of  his  tremendous  fist 
Which  fell  upon  Hanuman's  flank  : 
And  to  the  ground  the  Vanar  sank, 
No  sign  of  life  his  body  showed  : 
And  Ravan  in  his  chariot  rode 
At  Nila  ;  and  his  arrowy  rain 
Eell  on  the  captain  and  his  train. 
Fierce  Nila  stayed  his  Vanar  band, 
And,  heaving  with  his  single  hand 
A  mountain  peak,  with  vigorous  swing 
Hurled  the  huge  missile  at  the  king. 

Hanuman  life  and  strength  regained, 
Burned  for  the  fight  and  thus  complained : 
'  Why,  coward  giant,  didst  thou  flee 
And  leave  the  doubtful  fight  with  me  ?' 
Seven  mighty  arrows  keen  and  fleet 
The  giant  launched,  the  hill  to  meet ; 
And,  all  its  force  and  fury  stayed, 
The  harmless  mass  on  earth  was  laid. 
Enraged  the  Vanar  chief  beheld 
The  mountain  peak  by  force  repelled, 
And  rained  upon  the  foe  a  shower 
Of  trees  uptorn  with  branch  and  flower. 
Still  his  keen  shafts  which  pierced  andrent 
Each  flying  tree  the  giant  sent : 
Still  was  the  Vanar  doomed  to  feel 
The  tempest  of  the  winged  steel. 
Then,  smarting  from  that  arrowy  storm, 
The  Vanar  chief  condensed  his  form,2 
And  lightly  leaping  from  the  ground 
On  Ra  van's  standard  footing  found  ; 
Then  springing  unimpeded  down 
Stood  on  his  bow  and  golden  crown. 
The  Vauar's  nimble  leaps  amazed 
Ikshv&ku's  son  who  stood  a.nd  gazed. 
The  giant,  raging  in  his  heart, 


1  Ravan's  son,  whom  Hanuman  killed 
when  he  first  visited  Lanka. 

2  Nila  was  the  sou  of  Agni  the  God  of 
Fire,  and  possessed,  like*  Milton's  demons, 
the  power  of  dilating  and  condensing  his 
form  at  pleasure, 


Laid  on  his  bow  a  fiery  dart ; 

The  Vanar  on  his  flagstaff  eyed, 

And  thus  in  tones  of  fury  cried  : 

'  Well  skilled  in  magic  lore  art  thou  : 

But  will  thine  art  avail  thee  now? 

See  if  thy  magic  will  defend 

Thy  life  against  the  dart  1  send.' 

Thus  Ravan  spake,  the  giant  king, 
And  loosed  th'e  arrow  from  the  string. 
It  pierced,  with  direst  fury  sped, 
The  Vanar  with  its  flaming  head. 
His  father's  might,  his  power  innate 
Preserved  him  from  the  threatened  fate. 
Upon  his  knees  he  fell,  distained 
With  streams  of  blood,  but  life  remained. 

Still  Ravan  for  the  battle  burned  : 
At  Lakshman  next  his  car  he  turned, 
And  charged'amain  with  furious  show, 
Straining  in  mighty  hands  his  bow. 
'  Come,'  Lakshman  cried,  *  assay  the  fight: 
Leave  foes  unworthy  of  thy  might.' 
Thus  Lakshman  spoke  :  and  Lanka's  lord 
Heard  the  dread  thunder  of  the  cord, 
And  mad  with  burning  rage  and  pride 
In  hasty  words  like  these  replied  : 
'  Joy,  joy  is  mine,  O  Raghu's  son  : 
Thy  fate  to-day  thou  canst  not  shun. 
Slain  by  mine  arrows  thou  shalt  tread 
The  gloomy  pathway  of  the  dead.' 

Thus  as  he  spoke  his  bow  he  drew, 
And  seven  keen  shafts  at  Lakshman  flew. 
But  Raghu's  son  with  surest  aim 
Cleft  everv  arrow  as  it  came. 
Thus  with  fleet  shafts  each  warrior  shot 
Against  his  foe,  and  rested  not.  ^ 
Then  one  choice  weapon  from  his  store, 
By  Brahma's  self  bestowed  of  yore, 
Fierce  as  the  flames  that  end  the  world, 
The  giant  king  at  Lakshman  hurled. 
The  hero  fell,  and  racked  with  pain, 
Scarce  could  his  hand  his  bow  retain. 
But  sense  and  strength  resumed  their  seat 
And,  lightly  springing  to  his  feet, 
He  struck  with  one  Tremendous  stroke 
And  lid  van's  bow  in  splinters  broke. 
From  Lakshmans's  cord  three  arrows  flew 
And  pierced  the* giant  monarch  through. 
Sore  wounded  Ravan  closed,  and  round 
Ikshvaku's  son  his  strong  arms  wound. 
With  strength  unrivalled,  Brahma's  gift, 
He  strove  from  earth  his  foe  to  lift. 
'  Shall  I,'  he  cried,  *  who  overthrow 
Mount  Meru  and  the  Lord  of  Snow, 
And  heaven  and  all  who  dwell  therein, 
Be  foiled  by  one  of  Rama's  kin  ? ' 
But  though  he  heaved,  and  toiled,  and 

strained, 

Unmoved  Ikshvaku's  son  remained. 
His  frame  by  those  huge  arms  compressed 
The  giant's  God-given  force  confessed, 
But  conscious  that  himself  was  part 


470 


THE  RAM  A?  AN. 


Book  VI. 


Of  Vishnu,  he  was  firm  in  heart. 

The  Wind-God's  son  the  fight  beheld, 
And  rushed  at  Ravan,  rage-impelled. 
Down  crashed  his  mighty  hand  :  the  foe 
Full  in  the  chest  received  the  blow. 
His  eyes  grew  dim,  his  knees  gave  way, 
Arid  senseless  on  the  earth  he  lay. 

The  Wind-God's  son  to  Rama  bore 
Deep-wounded   Lakshman  stained    with 

gore. 

He  whom  no  foe  might  lift  or  bend 
Was  light  as  air  to  such  a  friend. 
The  dart  that  Lakshman's  side  had  cleft, 
Untouched,  the  hero's  body  left, 
And  flashing  through  the  air  afar 
Resumed  its  place  in  Ravan's  car  ; 
And,  waxing  well  though  wounded  sore, 
He  felt  the  deadly  pain  no  more. 
And  Ravan,  though  with  deep  wounds 

pained,* 

Slowly  his  sense  and  strength  regained, 
And  furious  still  and  undismayed 
On  bow  and  shaft  his  hand  he  laid. 

Then  Hanuman  to  Rama  cried  : 
'Ascend  my  back,  great  chief,  and  ride 
Like  Vishnu  borne  on  Garud's  wing, 
To  battle  with  the  giant  king.' 
So,  burning  for  the  dire  attack, 
Rode  Kama  on  the  Vaaar's  back, 
And  with  tierce  accents  loud  and  slow 
Thus  gave  defiance  to  the  foe, 
While    his   strained    bowstring   made  a 

sound 

Like  thunder  when  it  shakes  the  ground  ; 
'  Stay,  Monarch  of  the  giants,  stay, 
The  penalty  of  sin  to  pay. 
Stay  :  whither  wilt  thou  fly,  and  how 
Escape  the  death  that  waits  thee  now  ?' 

No  word  the  giant  king  returned  ; 
His  eyes  with  flames  of  fury  burned. 
His  arm  was  stretched,  his  bow  was  bent, 
And  swift  his  fiery  shafts  were  sent. 
Red  torrents  from  the  Vanar  flowed  : 
Then  Rama  near  to  Ravan  strode, 
And,  with  keen  darts  that  never  failed, 
The  chariot  of  the  king  assailed. 
With  surest  aim  his  arrows  flew  : 
The  driver  and  the  steeds  he  slew, 
And  shattered  with  the  pointed  steel 
Car,  flag  and  pole  and  yoke  and  wheel. 
As  Indra  hurls  his  bolt  to  smite 
Mount  Meru's  heaven-ascending  height, 
So  Rama  with  a  flaming  dart 
Struck  Lanka's  monarch  near  the  heart, 
Who  reeled  and -fell  beneath  the  blow 
And  from  loose  fingers  dropped  his  bow. 
Bright  as  the  sun,  with  crescent  head, 
From  Rama's  bow  an  arrow  sped, 
And  from  his  forehead,  proud  no  more, 
Cleft  the  bright  coronet  he  wore. 


Then  Rama  stood  by  Rdvan's  side 
And  to  the  conquered  giant  cried  : 
'  Well  hast  thou  fought :  thine  arm  has 

slain 

Strong  heroes  of  the  Vanar  train. 
I  will  not  strike  or  slay  thee  now, 
For  weary,  faint  with  fight  art  thou. 
To  Lanka's  town  thy  footsteps  bend, 
And  there  the  night  securely  spend. 
To-morrow  come  with  car  and  bow, 
And  then  my  prowess  shalt  thou  know.' 
He  ceased :  the  king  in  humbled  pride 
Rose  from  the  earth  and  naught  replied. 
With  wounded  limbs  and  shattered  crown 
He  sought  again  his  royal  town. 

CANTO  LX. 


KUMBHAKARNA  ROUSED. 

With  humbled  heart  and  broken  pride 
Through  Lanka's  gate  the  giant  hied, 
Crushed,  like  an  elephant  beneath 
A  lion's  spring  and  murderous  teeth, 
Or  like  a  serpent  neath  the  wing 
And  talons  of  the  Feathered  King. 
Such  was  the  giant's  wild  alarm 
At  arrows  shot  by  Rama's  arm  ; 
Shafts  with  red  lightning  round   them 

curled, 
Like  Brahma's  bolts  that  end  the  world, 

Supported  on  his  golden  throne, 
With  failing  eye  and  humbled  tone, 
'  Giants,'  he  cried, '  the  toil  is  vain, 
Fruitless  the  penance  and  the  pain, 
If  I  whom  Indra  owned  his  peer, 
Secure  from  Gods,  a  mortal  fear. 
My  soul  remembers,  now  too  late, 
Lord  Brahma's  words  which  spoke  my  fate: 

*  Tremble,  proud  Giant,'  thus  they  ran, 

*  And  dread  thy  death  from  slighted  man. 
Secure  from  Gods  and  demons  live, 

And  serpents,  by  the  boon  I  give. 
Against  their  power  thy  life  is  charmed, 
But  against  man  is  still  unarmed.' 
This  Rama  is  the  man  foretold 
By  Anaranya's1  lips  of  old: 

4  Fear,  Ravan,  basest  of  the  base  : 
For  of  mine  own  imperial  race 
A  prince  in  after  time  shall  spring 
Arid  thee  and  thine  to  ruin  bring. 
And  Vedavati, 2  ere  she  died 
Slain  by  my  ruthless  insult,  cried: 


1  An  ancient  king  of  Ayodhya  said  by 
some  to  have  been  Prithu's  father. 

2  The  daughter  of  King  Kusadhwaja. 
She  became  an  ascetic,  and  being  insulted 
by  Ravan  in  the  woods  where  she  was 


Canto  LX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


471 


'  A  scion  of  my  royal  line 

Shall  slay,  vile    wretch,  both  thee  and 

thine.' 

She  in  a  later  birth  became 
King  Janak's  child,  now  Rama's  dame. 
Naudisvara1  foretold  this  fate, 
And  Uma2  when  I  moved  her  hate, 
And  Ram b ha,3  and  the  lovely  child 
Of  Varun4  by  my  touch  denied. 
I  know  the  fated  hour  is  nigh  : 
Hence,  captains,  to  your  stations  fly. 
Let  warders  on  the  rampart  stand : 
Place  at  each  gate  a  watchful  baud  ; 
And,  terror  of  immortal  eyes, 
Let  mightiest  Kumbhakarnna  rise. 
He,  slumbering,  free  from  care  and  pain, 
By  Brahma's  curse,  for  months  has  lain. 
But  when  Prahasta's  death  he  hears, 
Mine  own  defeat  and  doubts  and  fears, 
The  chief  will  rise  to  smite  the  foe 
And  his  unrivalled  valour  show. 
Then  Raghu's  royal  sons  and  all 
The  Vanars  neath  his  might  will  fall.' 

The  giant  lords  his  best  obeyed, 
They  left  him.  trembling  and  afraid, 
And  from  the  royal  palace  strode 
To  Kumbhakarna's  vast  abode. 
They  carried  garlands  sweet  and  fresh, 
Arid  reeking  loads  of  blood  and  flesh. 
They  reached  the  dwelling  where  he  lay, 
A  cave  that  stretched  a  league  each  way, 
Sweet  with  fair  blooms  of  lovely  scent 
And  bright  with  golden  ornament. 
His  breathings  came  so  tierce  and  fast, 
Scarce  could  the  giants  brook  the  blast. 
They  found  him  on  a  golden  bed 
With  his  huge  limbs  at  length  outspread. 


performing  penance,  destroyed  herself  by 
entering  tire,  but  was  born  again  as  Sita 
to'be  in  turn  the  destruction  of  him  who 
had  insulted  her. 

1  Nandisvara  was  Diva's  chief  attendant. 
Ravan  had  despised  and   laughed  at  him 
for  appearing  in  the  form  of  a  monkey, 
and  the  irritated  Nandisvara  cursed  him 
and  foretold  his  destruction  by  monkeys. 

2  Ravan    once    upheaved    and    shook 
Mount   K'ailasa    the  favourite  dwelling 
place  of  &iva  the  consort  of  Uma,  and 
was  cursed  in  consequence  by  the  offended 
Goddess. 

3  Rambha,  who  has  several  times  been 
mentioned  in  the  course  of  the  poem,  was 
one  of  the  nymplis    of  heaven,  and  had 
been  insulted  by  Ravan. 

4  Punjikasthala  was  the  daughter  of 
Varun.    Ravan  himself  has  mentioned  in 
this  book  his  insult  to  her,  and  the  curse 
pronounced  in  cousequence  by  Brahma, 


They  piled  their  heaps  of  venison  near, 

Fab  buffaloes  and  boars  and  deer. 

With  wreaths  of  flowers  they  fanned  his 

face, 

And  incense  sweetened  all  the  place. 
Each  raised  his  mighty  voice  as  loud 
As  thunders  of  an  angry  cloud, 
And  conclis  their  stirring  summons  gave 
Tnat  echoed  through  the  giant's  cave. 
Tnen  on  his  breast  they  rained  their  blows, 
And  high  the  wild  commotion  rose 
When  cymbal  vied  with  drum  and  horn, 
And  war  cries  on  the  gale  upborne 
Through  all  the  air  loud  discord  spread, 
And.  struck  with  fear,  the  birds  fell  dead. 
But  still  he  slept  and  took  his  rest. 
Then  dashed  they  on  his  shaggy  chest 
Clubs,  maces,  fragments  of  the  rock  : 
He  moved  not  once,  nor  felt  the  shock. 
The  giants  made  one  effort  more 
With  shell  and  drum  arid  shout  and  roar. 
Club,  mallet,  mace,  in  fury  plied, 
Rained  blows  upon  his  breast  and  side. 
And  elephants  were  urged  to  aid, 
And  camels  groaned  and  horses  neighed. 
They  drenched  him  with  a  hundred  pails, 
They  tore  his  ears  with  teeth  and  nails. 
They  bound  together  many  a  mace 
And  beat  him  on  the  head  and  face  ; 
And  elephants  with  ponderous  tread 
Stamped  on  his  limbs  arid  chest  and  head. 
The  unusual  weight  his  slumber  broke: 
He  started,  shook  his  sides,  and  woke  ; 
And,  heedless  of  the  wounds  and  blows, 
Yawning  with  thirst  and  hunger  rose, 
His  jaws  like  hell  gaped  fierce  and  wide, 
Dire  as  the  flame  neath  ocean's  tide. 
Red  as  the  sun  on  Meru's  crest 
The  giant's  face  his  wrath  expressed, 
And  every  burning  breath  he  drew 
Was  like  the  blast  that  rushes  through 
The  mountain  cedars.    Up  he  raised 
His  awful  head  with  eyes  that  blazed 
Like  comets,  dire  as  Death  in  form 
Who  threats  the  worlds  with  tire  and  storm. 
The  giants  pointed  to  their  stores 
Of  buffaloes  and  deer  and  boars, 
And  straight  he  gorged  him  with  a  flood 
Of  wine,  with  marrow,  flesh,  and  blood. 
He  ceased  :  the  giants  ventured  near 
And  bent  their  lowly  heads  in  fear. 
Then  Kumbhakarna  glared  with  eyes 
Still  heavy  in  their  first  surprise, 
Still  drowsy  from  his  troubled  rest, 
And  thus  the  giant  band  addressed. 
'  How  have  ye  dared  my  sleep  to  break  ? 
No  trifling  cause  should  bid  me  wake. 
Say,  is  all  well  ?  or  tell  the  need 
That  drives  you  with  unruly  speed 
To  wake  me.     Mark  the  words  I  say, 
The  king  shall  tremble  in  dismay, 


472 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  VI. 


The  fire  be  quenched  and  Indra  slain 
Ere  ye  shall  break  my  rest  in  vain.' 

Yupaksha  answered  :  '  Chieftain,  hear  ; 
No  God  or  fiend  excites  our  fear. 
But  men  in  arms  our  walls  assail : 
\Ve  tremble  lest  their  might  prevail. 
For  vengeful  Kama  vows  to  slay 
The  foe  who  stole  his  queen  away, 
And,  matchless  for  his  warlike  deeds, 
A  host  of  mighty  Vanars  leads. 
Ere  now  a  monstrous  Vanar  came. 
Laid  Lanka  waste  with  ruthless  flame, 
And  Aksha,  Ravan's  offspring,  slew 
"With  all  his  warrior  retinue. 
Our  king  who  never  trembled  yet 
For  heavenly  hosts  in  battle  met, 
At  length  the  general  dread  has  shared, 
O'erthrown  by  llama's  arm  and  spared.' 

He  ceased :  and  Kumbhaksrna  spake  ; 
'1  will  go  forth  and  vengeance  take ; 
Will  tread  their  hosts  beneath  my  feet, 
Then  triumph-flushed  our  king  will  meet. 
Our  giant  bands  shall  eat  their  fill 
Of  Vanars  whom  this  arm  shall  kill. 
The  princes'  blood  shall  be  my  draught, 
The  chieftains'  shall  by  you  be  quaffed.' 
He  spake,  and,  with  an  eager  stride 
That  shook  the  earth,  to  Ravan  hied, 


CANTO   LXI. 


THE  VANARS'  ALARM, 

The  son  of  Raghu  near  the  wall 
Saw,  proudly  towering  over  all, 
The  mighty  giant  stride  along 
Attended  by  the  warrior  throng  ; 
Heard  Kumbhakarna's  heavy  feet 
Awake  the  echoes  of  the  street; 
And,  with  the  lust  of  battle  fired, 
Turned  to  Vibhishan  and  inquired  : 
'Vibhishan,  tell  that  chieftain's  name 
Who  rears 'so  high  his  mountain  frame; 
With  glittering  helm  and  lion  eyes, 
Preeminent  in  might  and  size 
Above  the  rest  of  giant  birth, 
He  towers  the  standard  of  the  earth  ; 
And  all  the  Vanars  when  they  see 
The  mighty  warrior  turn  and  flee.' 

''In  him,'  Vibhishan  answered, '  know 
Visravas'  son,  the  Immortals'  foe, 
Fierce  Kumbhakarna,  mightier  far 
Than  Gods  and  tieiids  and  giants  are. 
He  conquered  Yama  in  the  light, 
And  Indra  trembling  owned  his  might. 
His  arm  the  Gods  and  fiends  subdued, 
Gandharvas  and  the  serpent  brood. 
The  rest  of  his  gigantic  race 
Are  wondrous  strong  by  God-giving  grace; 


But  nature  at  his  birth  to  him 

Gave  matchless  power  and  strength  of  limb, 

Scarce  was  he  born,  fierce  monster,  when 

He  killed  and  ate  a  thousand  men. 

The  trembling  race  of  men,  appalled, 

On  Indra  for  protection  called  ; 

And  he,  to  save  the  suffering  world, 

His  bolt  at  Kumbhakarna  hurled, 

!So  awful  was  the  monster's  yell 

That  fear  on  all  the  nations  fell, 

He,  rushing  on  with  furious  roar, 

A  tusk  from  huge  Airavat  tore, 

And  dealt  the  God  so  dire  a  blow 

That  Indra  reeling  left  his  foe, 

And  with  the  Gods  and  mortals  fled 

To  Brahma's  throne  dispirited. 

*  O  Brahma,'  thus  the  suppliants  cried, 
'Some  refuge  for  this  woe  provide. 

If  thus  his  maw  the  giant  sate 
Soon  will  the  world  be  desolate.' 
The  Self -existent  calmed  their  woe, 
And  spake  in  anger  to  their  foe  : 

*  As  thou  wast  born,  Paulastya's  son, 
That  worlds  might  weep  by  thee  undone, 
Thou  like  the  dead  henceforth  shalt  be  ; 
Such  is  the  curse  I  lay  on  thee.' 
Senseless  he  lay,  nor  spoke  nor  stirred; 
ISuch  was  the  power  of  Brahma's  word. 
But  Kavan.  troubled  for  his  sake, 
Thus  to  the  Self -existent  spake  : 

*  Who  lops  the  tree  his  care  has  reared 
When  golden  fruit  has  first  appeared  ? 
Not  thus,  0  Brahma,  deal  with  one 
Descended  from  thine  own  dear  son.1 
JStill  thou,  O  Lord,  thy  word  must  keep  ; 
He  may  not  die,  but  let  him  sleep. 

Yet  fix  a.  time  for  him  to  break 
The  chains  of  slumber  and  awake.' 
He  ceased  :  and  Brahma  made  reply  : 
'Six  months  in  slumber  shall  he  lie, 
And  then  arising  for  a  day 
•Shall  cast  the  numbing  bonds  away.' 
Now  Ravan  in  his  doubt  and  dread 
Has  roused'  the  monster  from  his  bed, 
Who  comes  in  this  the  hour  of  need 
On  slaughtered  Vanars  flesh  to  feed. 
Each  Vanar,  when  his  awe-struck  eyes 
Behold  the  monstrous  chieftain,  flies. 
With  hopeful  words  their  minds  deceive, 
And  let  our  trembling  hosts  believe 
They  see  no  giant,  but,  displayed, 
A  lifeless  engine  deftly  made.' 

Then  Rama  called  to  Nila:  'Haste, 
Let  troops  near  every  gate  be  placed, 
And,  armed  with  fragments  of  the  rock 
And  trees,  each  lane  and  alley  block.' 

1  Pulastya  was  the  son  of  Brahma  and 
father  of  Visravas  or  Paulastya  thefathei 
of  liavan  and  KambJiakfurna, 


Canto  LXIIL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


473 


Tims  Rama  spoke  :  the  chief  obeyed, 
Aud  swift  the  Vanars  stood  arrayed, 
As  when  black  clouds  their  battle  form, 
The  summit  of  a  hill  to  storm, 


CANTO  LXII. 


RA'VAN'S  REQUEST. 

Along:  bright  Lanka's  royal  road 

The  giant,  roused  from  slumber,  strode, 

While  from  the  houses  on  his  head 
A  rain  of  fragrant  flowers  was  shed. 
He  reached  the  monarch's  gate  whereon 
Rich  gems  and  golden  fretwork  shone. 
Through  court  and  corridor  that  shook 
Beneath  his  tread  his  way  he  took, 
And  stood  within  the  chamber  where 
His  brother  sat  in  dark  despair. 
Hut  sudden,  at  the  grateful  sight 
The  monarch's  eye  again  grew  bright. 
He  started  up,  forgot  his  fear, 
And  drew  his  giant  brother  near. 
The  younger  pressed  the  elder's  feet 
And  paid  the  King  observance  meet, 
Then  cried  :  *O  Monarch,  speak  thy  will. 
And  let  my  care  thy  word  fulfil. 
"What  sudden  terror  and  dismay 
Have  burst  the  bonds  in  which  I  lay?' 

Fierce  flashed  the  flame  from  liavan'seye 
As  thus  in  wrath  he  made  reply: 
'  Fair  time,  I  ween,  for  sleep  is  this, 
To  lull  thy  soul  in  tranquil  bliss, 
Unheeding,  in  oblivion  drowned, 
The  dangers  that  our  lives  surround. 
Brave  Rama,  Dasaratha's  son, 
A  passage  o'er  the  sea  has  won, 
And,  with  the  Vanar  monarch's  aid, 
Round  Lanka's  walls  his  hosts  arrayed. 
Though  never  in  the  deadly  field 
My  Rakshas  troops  were  known  to  yield, 
The  bravest  of  the  giant  train 
Have  fallen  by  the  Vanars  slain. 
Hence  comes  my  fear.     O  fierce  and  brave, 
Go  forth,  our  threatened  Lanka  save. 
Go  forth,  a  dreadful  vengeance  take  : 
For  this,  O  chief,  I  bade  thee  wake. 
The  Gods  and  trembling  fiends  have  felt 
The  furious  blows  thine  arm  has  dealt. 
Earth  has  no  warrior,  heaven  lias  none 
To  match  thy  might,  Paulastya's  son,' 


CANTO  LXIIL 


KUMBHAKARNA'S  BOAST. 


We  warned  thee.  but  thon  wouldst  not  hear; 
And  now  the  fruits  of  sin  appear. 
We  warned  thee,  I,  thy  nobles,  all 
Who  loved  thee,  in  thy  council  hall. 
Those  sovereigns  who  with  blinded  eyes 
Neglect  the  foe  their  hearts  despise,  " 
Soon,  falling  from  the  their  high  estate, 
JJring  on  themselves  the  stroke  of  fate. 
Accept  at  length,  thy  life  to  save, 
The  counsel  sage  Vibhishan  gave, 
The  prudent  counsel  spurned  before, 
And  Sita  to  her  lord  restore.' l 

The  monarch  frowned,  by  passion  moved 
And  thus  in  angry  words  reproved  : 
'  Wilt  thoii  thine  elder  brother  school, 
Forgetful  of  the  ancient  rule 
That  bids  thee  treat  him  as  the  sage 
Who  guides  thee  with  the  lore  of  age? 
Think  on  the  dangers  of  the  day, 
Nor  idly  throw  thy  words  away  : 
If,  led  astray,  by  passion  stirred, 
I  in  the  pride  of  power  have  erred; 
If  deeds  of  old  were  done  amiss, 
No  time  for  vain  reproach  is  this. 
Uj>,  brother  ;  let  thy  loving  care 
The  errors  of  thy  king  repair.' 

To  calm  his  wrath,  his  soul  to  ease, 
The  younger  spake  in  words  like  these  : 
'  Yea,  from  our  bosoms  let  us  cast 
All  idle  sorrow  for  the  past. 
Let  grief  and  anger  be  repressed  : 
Again  be  h'rm  and  self-possessed. 
This  day,  O  Monarch,  shalt  thou  see 
The  Vanar  legions  turn  and  flee, 
And  Rama  and  his  brother  slain 
With  their  hearts'  blood  shall  dye  the  plain. 
Yea,  if  the  God  who  rules  the  dead, 
And  Varun.  their  battalions  led  ; 
If  Indra  w'ith  the  Stx>i«m-Gods  came 
Against  me,  and  the  Lord  of  Flame, 
Still  would  I  fight  with  all  and  slay 
Thy  banded  foes,  ray  King,  to-day, 
If  Raghu'a  son  this  day  withstand 
The  blow  of  mine  uplifted  hand, 
Deep  in  his  breast  my  darts  shall  sink, 
And  torrents  of  his  life-blood  drink. 
O  fear  not,  in  my  promise  trust  : 
This  arm  shall  lay  him  in  the  dust, 
Shall  leave  the  fierce  Sugriva  dyed 
With  gore,  and  Lakshman  by  his  side, 
And  strike  the  great  Hanuman  down, 
The  spoiler  of  our  glorious  town.'  '* 


1  I  omit  a  tedious  sermon  on  the  danger 
of  rashness  and  the  advantages  of  pru- 
dence, sufficient    to  irritate  a    less  pas- 
sionate hearer  than  Ravan. 

2  The  Bengal  recension  assigns  a  very 
different    speech    to    Kumbhakarna  and 
makes  him  say  that  Narad  the  messenger 
of  the  Gods  had  formerly  told  him  that 


4741 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


BOOK 


CANTO  LXIV. 


MAHODARS  SPEECH. 

He  ceased  :.  and  when  his  lips  were  closed 

Mahodar  thus  his  rede  opposed  : 

*  Why  wilt  tljou.  shame  thy  noble  birth 

And  speak  like  one  of  Tittle  worth  ( 

Why  boast  thee  thus  in  youthful  pride 

Kejecting  wisdom  for  thy  guide  I 

How  will  thy  single  arm  oppose 

The  victor  of  a  thousand  foes, 

Who  proved  in  Janasthan  his  might 

And  slew  the  rovers  of  the  night  \ 

The  remnant  of  those  legions,  they 

Who  saw  his  power  that  fatal  day. 

Now  in  this  Jeaguered  city  dread 

The  mighty  chief  from  whom  they  fled. 

And  wouhist  thou  meet  the  lord  of  men, 

Beard  the  great  lion  in  his  den, 

And,  when  thine  eyes  are  open,  break 

The  slumber  of  a  deadly  snake? 

Who  may  an  equal  battle  wage 

With  him,,  «o  awful  in  his  rage, 

Fierce  as  the  God  of  Death  whom  none 

May  vanquish,  Dasaratha's  son  ? 

But,  Kavaii,  shall  the  lady  still 

Kef  use  compliance  with  thy  will? 

No,  listen,,  King,  to  this  design 

Which  soon  shall  make  the  captive  thine. 

Q'his  day  through  Lanka's  streets  proclaim 

That  four  of  us1  of  highest  fame 

With  Kurobhakarna  at  our  head 

Will  strike  the  son  of  Eaghu  dead. 

Forth  to  the  battle  will  we  go 

And  prove  our  prowess  on  the  foe. 

Then,  if  our  bold  attempt  succeed, 

No  further  plans  thy  hopes  will  need. 

But  if  in  vain  our  warriors  strive, 

And  Ragh.u's  son  be  left  alive, 

We  will  return,  and,  wounded  sore, 

Our  armour  stained  with  goats  of  gore, 

Will -show  the  .shafts  that  rent  each  frame, 

Keeli  arr-iws  marked  with  Kama's  name, 

And  say  we  giants  have  devoured 

The  princes  whom  our  might  o'erpowered. 

Then  let  the  joyful  tidings  spread 

That  Raghu's  royal  sons  are  dead. 

To  all  around  thy  pleasure  show, 

Gold,  pearls,  and  precious  robf  s,  bestow. 

Gay  garlands  round  the  portals  twine, 

Enjoy  the  banquet  and  the  wine. 

Then  go,  the  scornful  lady  seek, 

.And  woo  her  when  her  heart  is  weak. 


Vishnu  himself  incarnate  as  Dasaratha's 
son  feiiould  come  to  destroy  Ravan. 

1  Mahodar,  Dwijihva,   Sanhrada,  and 
Vitarda'n. 


Rich  robes  and  gold  and  gems  display, 
And  gently  wile  her  grief  away. 
Then  will  she  feel  her  hopeless  state, 
Widowed,  forlorn,  and  desolate  : 
Know  that  on  thee  her  bliss  depends, 
Far  from  her  country  and  her  friends  f 
Then,  her  proud  spirit  overthrown, 
The  lady  will  be  all  thine  own,' 


CANTO  LXV\ 
KUMBHAKARNA'S  SPEECH, 

B-ut  haughty  Kumbhakarna  spurned 

His  counsel,  and  to  ltd  van  turned: 

'  Tny  life  from  peril  will  L  free 

And  slay  the  foe  who  threatens  thee. 

A  hero  never  vaunts  in  vain, 

Like  bellowing  clouds  devoid  of  raiB, 

Nor,  Monarch,  be  thine  ear  inclined 

To  counsellors  of  slavish  kind, 

Who  witli  mean  arts  their  king  mislead 

And  mav  each  gallant  plan  and  deed. 

O,  let  not  words  like  his  beguile 

The  glorious  king  of  Lanka's  isle.' 

Thus  scornful  Kumbhakarna  cried,. 
And  Ravan  with  a  laugh  replied  : 
'  Alahodar  fears  and  fain  would  shun 
The  tattle  with  Ikshvaku's  son. 
Of  all  my  giant  warriors,  who 
Is  strong  as  thou.  and  brave  and  true  ? 
Hide,  conqueror?  to  the  battle  ride, 
And  tame  the  foeman's  senseless  pride* 
Go  forth  like  Yama  to  the  fteld, 
And  let  thine  arm  thy  trident  wield. 
Scared  by  the  lightning  of  thine  eye 
The  Vanar  hosts  will  turn  and  fly  ; 
And  Rama,  when  he  sees  thee  near, 
With  trembling  heart  will  own  his  fear/ 

The  champion  heard,  and,  well  content, 
Forth  from  the  hall  his  footsteps  bent. 
He  grasped  his  spear,  the  foeman's  dread, 
Hlack  iron  all,  both  shaft  and  head, 
Which,  dyed  in  many  a  battle,,  bore 
Great  spots  of  slaughtered  victims'  gore. 
The  king  upon  his  neck  had  thrown 
The  jewelled  chain  which  graced  his  own,, 
And  garlands  of  delicious  scent 
About  his  limbs  for  ornament. 
Around  his  arms  gay  bracelets  clung,. 
And  pendants  in  his  ears  were  hung. 
Adorned  with  gold,  about  his  waist 
His  coat  of  mail  was  firmly  braced,. 
And  like  Narayan1  or  the  God 
Who  rules  the  sky  he  proudly  trod. 
Behind  him  went  a  mighty  throng 
Of  giant  warriors  tall  and  strong, 


1  A  name  of  Vishnu. 


Canto  LXVIL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


475 


On  elephants  of  noblest  breeds, 
With  cars,  with  camels,  and  with  steeds  ; 
Ami,  armed  with  spear  and  axe  and  sword 
Wei*e  fain  to  battle  for  their  lord.1 


CANTO  LXVL 


KUMBHAKAUNA'S  SALLY. 

In  pornp  and  pride  of  warlike  state 
The  giant  passed  the  city  gate. 
He  raised  his  voice  :  the  hills,  the  shore 
Of  Lanka's  sea  returned  the  roar. 
The  Vanars  saw  the  chief  draw  nigh 
Whom  not  the  ruler  of  the  sky, 
Nor  Yama,  monarch  of  the  dead, 
Might  vanquish,  and  affrighted  fled. 
"When  royal  Angad.  Bali's  son, 
Saw  the  scared  Vanars  turn  and  run, 
Undaunted  still  he  kept  his  ground, 
And  shouted  as  he  gazed  around  : 
*  O  Nala,  Nila,  stay,  nor  let 
Your  souls  your  generous  worth  forget. 
O  Kumud  and  Gavaksha,  why 
Like  base-born  Vanars  will  ye  fly  ? 
Turn,  turn,  nor  shame  your  order  thus: 
This  giant  is  no  match  for  us.' 
They  heard  his  voice  :  the  flight  was 

stayed  ; 

Again  for  war  they  stood  arrayed, 
And  hurled  napon  the  foe  a  shower 
Of  mountain  peaks  and  trees  in  flower. 
Still  on  his  limbs  their  missiles  rained: 
Unmoved,  their  blows  he  still  sustained, 
And  seemed  unconscious  of  the  stroke 
When  rocks  against  his  body  broke. 
Fierce  .as  the  lilame  when  woods  are  dry 
He  charged  with  fury  hi  his  eye. 
Like  trees  consumed  with  fervent  heat 
They  fell  beneath  the  giant's  feet. 
Some  o'er  the  ground,  dyed  red  with  gore, 
Fled  wild  with  terror  to  the  shore, 
And,  deeming  that  all  hope  was  lost, 
Ran  to  the  bridge  they  erst  had  crossed. 
Some  clomb  the  trees  their  lives  to  save. 
!Some  sought  the  mountain  and  the-eave; 
Some  hid  them  in  the  bosky  dell, 
And  there  in  deathlike  slumber  fell. 


1  There  is  so  much  commonplace  repeti" 
tion  in  these  Sallies  of  the  Rakshas  chief- 
tains that  omissions  are  frequently  neces- 
sary. The  usual  ill  omens  attend  the 
sally  of  kumbhakarna,  and  the  Canto 
ends  with  a  description  of  the  terrified 
Vanars'  flight  which  is  briefly  repeated  in 
different  words  at  the  beginning  of  the 
next  Canto. 


When  Angad  saw  the  chief  bains  fly 
He  called  them  with  a  mighty  cry: 
'  Once  more,  O  Vunars,  charge  once  more, 
On  to  the  battle  as  before. 
In  all  her  compass  earth  has  not, 
To  hide  you  safe,  one  secret  spot. 
Whftt '!  leave  your  arms  ?  each  nobler  dame 
Will  scorn  her  consort  for  the  shame. 
This  blot  upon  your  names  efface, 
And  keep  your  valour  from  disgrace. 
Stay,  chieftains  *  wherefore  will  ye  run, 
A  band  of  warriors  scared  by  one  ? ' 
Scarce    would  they  hear:    they  would 

not  stay, 

And  basely  spoke  in  wild  dismay  : 
'  Have  we  wot  fought,  and  fought  in  vaia 
Have  we  not  seen  our  mightiest  slain  ? 
The  giant's  matchless  force  w,e  fear, 
And  fly  because  our  lives  are  d-ear.' 
But  Bali's  son  with  gentle  art 
Dispelled  their  dread  and  cheered  each 

heart. 

They  turned  and  formed  and  waited  .still 
Obedient  to  the  prince's  will. 


CANTO  LXVIL 


KUMBHAKARNA'S  DEATH. 

Thus  from  their  flight  the  Vanars  turned* 
And  every  heart  for  battle  burned, 
Determined  on  the  spot  to  die 
Or  gain  a  warrior's  meed  on  high. 
Again  the  Vanars  stooped  to  seize 
Their  weapons,  rocks  and  fallen  trees  ; 
Again  the  deadly  fight  began, 
And  fiercely  at  the  giant  ran. 
Unmoved  the  monster  kept  his  place  : 
He  raised  on  high  his  awful  mace, 
Whirled  the  huge  weapon  round  hiis  head 
And  laid  the  foremost  Vanars  dead. 
Eight  thousand  fell  bedewed  with  gore, 
Then  sank  and  died  seven  hundred  more. 
Then  thirty,  twenty,  ten,  or  eight 
At  each  fierce  onset  met  their  fate, 
And  fast  the  fallen  were  devoured 
Like  snakes  by  Garud's  beak  o'erpo  wered. 
Then  Dwivid  fi-om  the  Vanar  van, 
Armed  with  an  uptorn  mountain,  ran, 
Like  a  huge  cloud  whenifierce  winds  blow« 
And  charged  amain  the  mountain  foe. 
With  wondrous  force  the  hill  he  threw  : 
O'er  Kumbhakarna's  head  it  flew, 
An<d  falling  on  his  host  afar 
("rushed  many  a  giant,  steed,  and  car. 
Rocks,  trees,  by  tierce  Hanuman  sped, 
Rained  fast  on  Kumbhakrna's  head, 
Whose  spear  each  deadlier  missile  stopped, 
And  harmless  on  thn  i>lain  it  dronued. 


476 


THE  RA MAYAN. 


Bool  VI. 


Then  with  his  furious  eyes  aglow 
The  giant  rushed  upon  the  foe, 
Where,  with  a  woody  hill  upheaved, 
Hanuman's  might  his  charge  received. 
Through  his  vast  frame  the  giant  fells 
The  angry  blow  Haiiuman  dealt. 
He  reeled  a  moment,  sore  distressed, 
Then  smote  the  Vanar  on  the  breast, 
As  when  the  War-God's  furious  stroke 
Through  Krauncha'shill/i  passage  broke.1 
Fierce  was  the  blow,  and  deep  and  wide 
The  rent  :  with  crimson  torrents  dyed, 
Hanumar:,  maddened  by  the  pain, 
Roared  like  a  cloud  that  brings  the  rain, 
And  from  each  Rakshas  throat  rang  out 
Loud  clamour  and  exultant  shout. 
Then  Nila  hurled  with  mustered  might 
The  fragment  of  a  mountain  height ; 
Nor  would  the  rock  the  foe  have  missed, 
But  Kumbhakarna  raised  his  fist 
And  smote  so  fiercely   that  the  mass 
Fell  crushed  to  powder  on  the  grass. 
Five  chieftains  of  the  Vanar  race* 
Charged  Kumbhakarna  face  to  face, 
And  his  huge  frame  they  wildly  beat 
With  rocks  and  trees  and  hands  and  feet. 
Round  Rishabh  first  the  giant  wound 
His  arms  and  hurled  him  to  the  ground, 
Where  speechless,  senseless,  wounded  sore, 
He  lay  his  face  besmeared  with  gore. 
Then  Nila  with  his  fist  he  slew, 
And  Sarabh  with  his  knee  o'erthrew, 
Nor  could  Gavt'iksha's  strength  withstand 
The  force  of  his  terrific  hand. 
At  Gandhamadan's  eager  call 
Rushed  thousands  to  avenge  their  fall, 
Nor  ceased  those  Vanars  to  assail 
With  knee  and  fist  and  tooth  and  nail. 
Around  his  foes  the  giant  threw 
His  mighty  arms,  and  nearer  drew 
The  captives  subject  to  his  will : 
Then  snatched  them  up  and  ate  his  fill. 
There  was  no  raspite  then,  no  pause  : 
Fast  gaped  and  closed  his  hell-like  jaws  : 
Yet,  prisoned  in  that  gloomy  cave, 
Some  Vanars  still  their  lives  could  save  : 
Some  through  his  nostrils  found  a  way, 
Some  through  his  ears  resought  the  day. 
Like  Indra  with  his  thunder,  like 


1  Karttikeya  the  God  of  War,  and  the 
hero  and  incarnation  Parasurama  are  said 
to  have  cut  a  passage  through  the  mountain 
Krauncha,  a  part  of  the  Himalayan  range, 
in  the  same  way  as  the  immense  gorge 
that  splits  the  Pyrenees  under  the  towers 
of  Marbore  was  cloven  at  one  blow  of 
Roland's  sword  Durandal. 

'  Rishabh,  garabh,  Nila,  Gavaksha, 
and  fraridhamM.dan. 


The  God  of  Death  in  act  ro  strike, 
The  giant  seized  his  ponderous  spear, 
And  charged  the  foe  in  swift  career. 
Before  his  might  the  Vanars  fell, 
Nor  could  their  hosts  his  charge  repel. 
Then  trembling,  nor  ashamed  to  run, 
They  turned  and  fled  to  Raghu's  son. 

When  Bali's  warrior  son1  beheld 
Their  flight,  his  heart  with  fury  swelled. 
He  rushed,  with  his  terrific  shout, 
To  meet  the  foe  and  stay  the  rout, 
He  came,  he  hurled  a  mountain  peak, 
And  smote  the  giant  on  the  cheek. 
His  ponderous  spear  the  giant  threw  ; 
Fierce  was  the  cast,  the  aim  was  true  ; 
But  Angad,  trained  in  war  and  tried, 
Saw  ere  it  came,  and  leapt  aside. 
Then  with  his  open  hand  he  smote 
The  giant  on  the  chest  and  throat. 
That  blow  the  giant  scarce  sustained  ; 
lUit  sense  and  strength  were  soon  regained. 
With  force  which  nothing  might  resist 
He  caught  the  V&nar  by  the  wrist, 
Whirled  him,  as  if  in  pastime,  round, 
And  dashed  him  senseless  on  the  ground. 
There  low  on  earth  his  foe  lay  crushed: 
At  King  Sugriva  next  he  rushed, 
Who,  waiting  for  the  charge,  stood  still, 
And  heaved  on  high  a  shattered  hill, 
He  looked  on  Kurnbhakarna  dyed 
With  streams  of  blood,  and  fiercely  cried: 
*  Great  glory  has  thine  arm  achieved, 
And  thousands  of  their  lives  bereaved. 
New  leave  a  while  thy  meaner  foes, 
And  brook  the  hill  Sugriva  throws.' 

He  spoke,  and  hurled  the  mass  he  held : 
The  giant's  chest  the  stroke  repelled, 
Then  on  the  Vanars  fell  despair, 
And  Rakshas  clamour  filled  the  air. 
The  giant  raised  his  arm,  and  fast 
Came  the  tremendous2  spear  he  cast. 
Hanuman  caught  it  as  it  Hew, 
And  knapped  it  on  his  knee  in  two. 
The  giant  saw  the  broken  spear  : 
His  clouded  eye  confessed  his  fear  ; 
Yet  at  Sugriva's  head  he  sent 
A  peak  from  Lanka's  mountain  rent. 

1  Angad.    The  text  calls  him   the  son 
of  the  son  of  him  who  holds  the  thunder- 
bolt, i.  e.  the  grandson  of  Indra, 

2  Literally,  weighing  a  thousand  bhd- 
ras.    The  Ihdra  is  a  weight  equal  to  2000 
palas,  ihepala  is  equal  to  four   harms, 
and   the   karfa  to  11375  French  grammes 
or  about  170  grains  troy.  The  spear  seems 
very  light  for  a  warrior  of  Kumbhakarna's 
strength  and  stature  and  the   work  per- 
formed with  it. 


Canto  LXVIL 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


477 


The  rushing  mass  no  might  could  stay  : 
Sugriva  fell  and  senseless  lay. 
The  giant  stooped  his  foe  to  seize, 
And  bore  him  thence,  as  hears  the  breeze 
A  cloud  in  autumn  through  the  sky, 
He  heard  the  sad  Immortals  sigh, 
And  shouts  of  triumph  long  and  loud 
Went  up  from  all  the  Rakshas  crowd. 
Through  Lanka's  gate  the  giant  passed 
Holding  his  struggling  captive  fast, 
While  from  each  terrace,  house,  and  tower 
Fell  on  his  haughty  head  a  shower 
Of  fragrant  scent  and  flowery  rain, 
Blossoms  and  leaves  and  scattered  grain.1 

By  slow  degrees  the  Vanars'  lord 
Felt  life  and  sense  and  strength  restored. 
He  heard  the  giants1  joyful  boast : 
He  thought  upon  his  Vanar  host. 
His  teeth  and  feet  he  fiercely  plied, 
And  bit  and  rent  the  giant's  side, 
Who,mad  with  pain  and  smeared  with  go  re, 
Hurled  to  the  ground  the  load  he  bore. 
Regardless  of  a  storm  of  blows 
Swift  to  the  sky  the  Vanar  rose, 
Then  lightly  like  a  flying  ball 
High  overleapt  the  city  wall, 
And  joyous  for  deliverance  won 
Regained  the  side  of  Raghu's  son. 
And  Kumbhakarna,  mad  with  hate 
And  fury,  sallied  from  the  gate, 
The  carnage  of  the  foe  renewed 
And  filled  his  maw  with  gory  food, 
Slaying,  with  headlong  frenzy  blind, 
Bbth  Vanar  foes  and  giant  kind. 

Nor  would  iSumitra's  valiant  son2 
The  might  of  Kumbhakarna  shun, 
Who  through  his  harness  felt  the  sting 
Of  keen  shafts  loosened  from  the  string. 
His  heart  confessed  the  warrior's  power, 
And,  bleeding  from  the  ceaseless  shower 
That  smote  him  on  the  chest  and  side, 
With  words  like  these  the  giant  cried  : 
*  Well  fought,  well  fought,  Sumitra's  son; 
Eternal  glory  hast  thou  won, 
For  thou  in  desperate  fight  hast  met 
The  victor  never  conquered  yet, 
Whom,  borne  on  huge  Aira  vat's  back, 
E'en  Iridra  trembles  to  attack. 
Go,  son  of  Queen  Sumitra,  go  : 
Thy  valour  and  thy  strength  I  know. 
Now  all  rny  hope  and  earnest  will 
Is  Rama  in  the  fight  to  kill. 
L#t  him  beneath  my  weapons  fall, 
And  I  will  meet  and  conquer  all.' 


1  The  custom  of  throwing  parched  or 
roasted  grain,  with  wreaths  and  flowers, 
on  the  heads  of  kings  and  conquerors 
when  they  go  forth  to  battle  and  return 
is  frequently  mentioned  by  Indian  poets, 


The  chieftain,  of  Sumitra  born, 
Made  answer  as  he  laughed  in  scorn: 
Yea,  thou  hast  won  a  victor's  fame 
From  trembling  Gods  and  Indra's  shame. 
There  waits  thee  now  a  mightier  foe 
Whose  prowess  thou  hast  yet  to  know. 
There,  famous  in  a  hundred  lands, 
Rama  the  son  of  Raghu  stands.' 

Straight  at  the  king  the  giant  sped, 
And  earth  was  shaken  at  his  tread. 
His  bow  the  hero  grasped  and  strained, 
And  deadly  shafts  in  torrents  rained. 
As  Kumbhakarna  felt  each  stroke 
From  his  huge  mouth  burst  fire  and  smoke; 
His  hands  were  loosed  in  mortal  pain 
And  dropped  his  weapons  on  the  plain. 
Though  reft  of  spear  and  sword  and  mace 
No  terror  changed  his  haughty  face. 
With  heavy  hands  he  rained  his  blows 
And  smote  to  death  a  thousand  foes. 
Where'er  the  furious  monster  strode 
While  down  his  limbs  the  red  blood  flowed 
Like  torrents  down  a  mountain's  side, 
Vanars  and  bears  and  giants  died. 
High  o'er  his  head  a  rock  he  swung, 
And  the  huge  mass  at  Rama  flung. 
But  Rama's  arrows  bright  as  flame 
Shattered  the  mountain  as  it  came. 
Then  Raghu's  son,  his  eyes  aglow 
With  burning  anger,  charged  the  foe, 
And  as  his  bow  he  strained  and  tried 
With  fearful  clang  the  cord  replied. 
Wroth  at  the  bowstring's  threatening  clang 
To  meet  his  foe  the  giant  sprang. 
High  towering  with  enormous  frame 
Huge  as  a  wood-crowned  hill  he  came. 
But  Rama  firm  and  self-possessed 
In  words  like  these  the  foe  addressed  : 
4  Draw  near,  O  Rakshas  lord,  draw  near, 
Nor  turn  thee  from  the  fight  in  fear. 
Thou  meetest  Rama  face  to  face, 
Destroyer  of  the  giant  race. 
Come,  fight,  and  thou  shalt  feel  this  hour. 
Laid  low  in  death,  thy  conqueror's  power.' 

He  ceased:  and  mad  with  wrath  and 

pride 

The  giant  champion  thus  replied : 
'  Come  thou  to  me  and  thou  shalt  find 
A  foeman  of  a  different  kind. 
No  Khara,  no  Viradha.— thou 
Hasfc  met  a  mightier  warrior  now. 
The  strength  of  Kumbhakarna  fear, 
And  dread  the  iron  mace  I  rear. 
This  mace  in  days  of  yore  subdued 
The  Gods  and  Danav  multitude. 
Prove,  lion  of  Ikshvaku's  line. 
Thy  power  upon  these  limbs  of  mine. 
Then,  after  trial,  shalt  thou  bleed, 
And  with  thy  flesh  my  hunger  feed.' 

He  ceased:  and  Rama,  undismayed, 

TTnon  his  nnrrl   tlmsp.  ovrnwa  In.irl 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


VI. 


Which  pierced  the  stately  Sal  trees  through, 
And  Bali  king  of  Vanars  slew. 
They  flew,  they  smote,  but  smote  in  vain 
Those  mighty  limbs  that  felt  no  pain. 
Then  Rama  sent  with  surest  aim 
The  dart  that  bore  the  Wind-God's  name. 
The  missile  from  the  giant  tore 
His  huge  arm  and  the  mace  it  bore, 
Which  crushed  the  Vanars  where  it  fell : 
And  dire  was  Kumbhakarna's  yell, 
The  giant  seized  a  tree,  and  then 
Rushed  madly  at  the  lord  of  men. 
Another  dart,  Lord  Indra's  own, 
To  meet  his  furious  onset  thrown, 
His  left  arm  from  the  shoulder  lopped, 
And  like  a  mountain  peak  it  dropped. 
Then  from  the  bow  of  Rama  sped 
Two  arrows,  each  with  crescent  head  ; 
And,  winged   with  might  which  naught 

could  stay, 

They  cut  the  giant's  legs  away. 
They  fell,  and  awful  was  the  sound 
As  those  vast  columns  shook  the  ground  ; 
And  sky  and  sea  and  hill  and  cave 
In  echoing  roars  their  answer  gave. 
Then  from  his  side  the  hero  drew 
A  dart  that  like  the  tempest  flew — 
No  deadlier  shaft  has  ever  flown 
Than  that  which  Indra  called  his  own — 
Nor  could  the  giant's  mail-armed  neck 
The  fury  of  the  missile  check. 
Through  skin  and  flesh  and  bone  it  smote 
And  rent  asunder  head  and  throat. 
Down  with  the  sound  of  thunder  rolled 
The  head  adorned  with  rings  of  gold, 
And  crushed  to  pieces  in  its  fall 
A  gate,  a  tower,  a  massive  wall. 
Hurled  to  the  sea  the  body  fell ; 
Terrific  was  the  ocean's  swell, 
Nor  could  swift  fin  and  nimble  leap 
Save  the  crushed  creatures  of  the  deep. 

Thus  he  who  plagued  in  impious  pride 
The  Gods  and  Brahmans  fought  arid  died. 
Glad  were  the  hosts  of  heaven,  and  long 
The  air  re-echoed  with  their  song. ' 


1  I  have  abridged  this  long  Canto  by 
omitting  some  vain  repetitions,  common- 
place epithets  and  simile>  and  other  unim- 
portant matter.  There  are  many  verses  in 
this  Canto  which  European  scholars  would 
rigidly  exclude  as  unmistakeably  the  work 
of  later  rhapsodists.  Even  the  reverent 
Commentator  whom  I  follow  ventures  to 
remark  once  or  twice  :  Ay  am  sloka  prak 
shipta  itl  baharah,  'This  sloka  or  verse  is 
in  the  opinion  of  many  interpolated.' 


CANTO  LXVIII. 


RAVAN'S  LAMENT. 

They  ran  to  Ravan  in  his  hall 
And  told  him  of   his  brother's  fall  : 
'  Fierce  as  the  God  who  rules  the  dead, 
Upon  the  routed  foe  he  fed  ; 
And,  victor  for  a  while,  at  length 
Fell  slain  by  Rama's  matchless  strength. 
Now  like  a  mighty  hill  in  size 
His  mangled  trunk  extended  lies, 
And  where  he  fell,  a  bleeding  mass, 
Blocks  Lanka's  gate  that  none  may  pass.' 
The  monarch  heard :  his  strength  gave  way; 
And  fainting  on  the  ground  he  lay. 
Grieved  at  the  giants'  mournful  tale, 
Long,  shrill  was  Atikaya's  wail ; 
And  Trisiras  in  sorrow  bowed 
His  triple  head,  and  wept  aloud. 
Alahodar,  Mahaparsva  shed 
Hot  tears  and  mourned  their  brother  dead. 
At  length,  his  wandering  sent-e  restored, 
In  loud  lament  cried  Lanka's  lord  : 
'  Ah  chief,  for  might  and  valour  famed, 
Whose  arm  the  haughty  foemari  tamed, 
Forsaking  me,  thy  friends  and  all, 
Why  hast  thou  fled  to  Yama's  hall  ? 
Why  hast  thou  fled  to  taste  no  more 
The  slaughtered  foeman's  flesh  and  gore  ? 
Ah  me,  my  life  is  done  to-day  : 
My  better  arm  is  lopped  away. 
Whereon  in  danger  I  relied, 
And,  fearless,  Gods  and  fiends  defied. 
How  could  a  shaft  from  Rama's  bow 
The  matchless  giant  overthrow, 
Whose  iron  frame  so  strong  of  yore 
The  crushing  bolt  of  Indra  bore  ; 
This  day  the  Gods  and  sages  meet 
And  triumph  at  their  foe's  defeat. 
This  day  the  Vanar  chiefs  will  boast 
And,  with  new  ardour  iired,  their  host 
In  fiercer  onset  will  assail 
Our  city,  and  the  ramparts  scale. 
What  care  I  for  a  monarch's  name, 
For  empire,  or  the  Maithil  dame? 
What  joy  can  power  and  riches  give, 
Or  life  that  I  should  care  to  live, 
Unless  this  arm  in  mortal  fray 
The  slayer  of  my  brother  slay  ? 
For  me,  of  Kunibhakarna  reft, 
Death  is  the  only  solace'left  ; 
And  I  will  seek,  o'er  whelmed  with  woes, 
The  realm  to  which  my  brother  goes. 
Ah  me  ill-minded,  not  to  take 
His  counsel  when  Vibhishan  spake 
When  he  this  evil  day  foretold 
My  foolish  heart  was  overbold  : 
I  drove  my  sage  adviser  hence, 
And  reap  the  fruits  of  mine  offence.' 


Canto  LXX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


CANTO  LXIX. 


NARANTAK'S  DEATH. 

Pierced  to  the  soul  by  sorrow's  sting 
Thus  wailed  the  evil -hearted  king. 
Then  Trisiras  stood  forth  and  cried  : 
'Yea.  father,  he  has  fought  and  died, 
Our  bravest  :  and  the  loss  is  sore  : 
But  rouse  thee,  and  lament  no  more, 
Hast  thou  not  still  thy  coat  of  mail, 
Thy  bow  and  shafts  which  never  fail  1 
A  thousand  asses  draw  thy  car 
Which  roars  like  thunder  heard  afar. 
Thy  valour  and  thy  warrior  skill, 
Thy  God-given  strength,  are  left  thee  still. 
Unarmed,  thy  matchless  might  subdued 
The  Gods  find  Danav  multitude. 
Armed  with  thy  glorious  weapons,  how 
Shall  Raghu'sson  oppose  thee  now  ? 
Or.  sire,  within  thy  palace  stay  ; 
And  I  myself  will  sweep  away 
Thy  foes;  like  Garud  when  he  makes 
A  banquet  of  the  writhing  snakes. 
Soon  Raghu's  son  shall  press  the  plain, 
As  Narak1  fell  by  Vishnu  slain, 
Or  Sambar2  in  rebellious  pride 
Who  met  the  King  of  Gods3  and  died,' 

The  monarch  heard  :  his  courage  grew, 
And  life  and  spirit  came  anew. 
Devantak  and  Narantak  heard, 
And  their  fierce  souls  with  joy  were  stirred; 
And  Atikaya4  burned  to  fight, 
And  heard  the  summons  with  delight  ; 
While  from  the  rest  loud  rang  the  cry, 
'  I  too  will  fight,'  arid  I,'  •  and  I.' 

The  joyous  king  his  sons  embraced, 
With  gold  and  chains  and  jewels  graced, 
And  sent  them  forth  with  stirring  speech 
Of  benison  and  praise  to  each. 
Forth  from  the  gate  the  princes  sped 
And  ranged  for  war  the  troops  they  led. 
The  Vfinar  legions  charged  anew. 
And  trees  and  rocks  for  missiles  flew. 
They  saw  Nanmtak's  mighty  form 
Borne  on  a  steed  that  mocked  the  storm. 
To  check  his  charge  in  vain  they  strove  : 
Straight  through  their  host  his  way  he 

clove, 

As  springs  a  dolphin  through  the  tide  : 
And  countless  Vanars  fell  and  died, 

1  Narak  was  a  demon,  son  of  Bhumi  or 
Earth,  who  haunted  the  city  Pragjyotisha. 

2  £  am  bar  was  a  demon  of  drought. 

3  Indra. 

4  Devantak  (Slayer  of  Gods)  Narantak 
(Slayer  of  Men)  Atikaya  (Huge  of  Frame) 
and  Trisiras  (Three  Headed)  were  all  sons 
of  Kuvaa. 


And  mangled  limbs  and  corpses  lay 

To  mark  the  chief's  ensanguined  way. 

Sugrivsi.  saw  them  fall  or  fly 

When  fierce  Narantak's  steed  was  nigh, 

And  marked  the  giant  where  he  sped 

O'er  heaps  of  dying  or  of  dead, 

He  bade  the  royal  Angad  face 

That  bravest  chief  of  giant  race. 

As  springs  the  sun  from  clouds  dispersed, 

So  Angad  from  the  Vanars  burst. 

No  weapon  for  the  fight  he  bore 

Save  nails  and  teeth,  and  sought  no  more. 

1  Leave,  giant  chieftain,1  thus  he  spoke, 

'  Leave  foes  unworthy  of  thy  stroke, 

And  bend  against  a  nobler  heart 

The  terrors  of  thy  deadly  dart.' 

Narantak  heard  the  words  he  spake  : 
Fast  breathing,  like  an  angry  snake, 
With  bloody  teeth  his  lips  he  pressed 
And  hurled  his  dart  at  Angad's  breast. 
True  was  the  aim  and  fierce  the  stroke, 
Yet  on  his  breast  the  missile  broke. 
Then  Angad  at  the  giant  flew, 
And  with  a  blow  his  courser  slew  : 
The  fierce  hand  crushed  through  flesh  and 

bone, 

And  steed  and  rider  fell  o'erthrown. 
Narantak's  eyes  with  fury  blazed: 
His  heavy  hand  on  high  he  raised 
And  struck  in  savage  wrath  the  head 
Of  Bali's  son,  who  reeled  and  bled, 
Fainted  a  moment  and  no  more: 
Then  stronger,  fiercer  than  before 
Smote  with  that  fist  which  naught  could 

stay, 
And  crushed  to  death  the  giant  lay. 


CANTO  LXX. 


THE  DEATH  OF  TRI&IRAS. 

Then  raged  the  Rakshas  chiefs,  and  all 
Burned  to  avenge  Narantak's  fall. 
Devantak  raised  his  club  on  high 
And  rushed  at  Angad  with  a  cry. 
Behind  came  Trisiras,  and  near 
Mahodar  charged  with  levelled  spear. 
There  Angad  stood  to  fight  with  three  : 
High  o'er  his  head  he  waved  a  tree, 
And  at  Devantak,  swift  and  true 
As  Indra's  flaming  bolt,  it  flew. 
But,  cut  by  giant  shafts  in  twain, 
With  minished  force  it  flew  in  vain. 
A  shower  of  trees  and  blocks  of  stone 
From  Angad's  hand  was  fiercely  thrown  ; 
But  well  his  club  Devantak  plied 
And  turned  each  rock  and  tree  aside. 
Nor  yet,  by  three  such  foes  assailed, 


480 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  VI. 


The  heart  of  Angad  sank  or  quailed. 
He  slew  the  mighty  beast  that  bore 
Mahodar  :  from  his  head  he  tore 
A  .bleeding  tusk,  and  blow  on  blow 
Fell  fiercely  on  his  Rakshas  foe. 
The  giant  reeled,  but  strength  regained, 
And  furious  strokes  on  Angad  rained, 
Who,  wounded  by  the  storm  of  blows, 
Sank  on  his  knees,  but  swiftly  rose. 
Then  Trisiras,  as  up  he  sprang, 
Drew  his  great  bow  with  awful  elang, 
And  fixed  three  arrows  from  his  sheaf 
Full  in  the  forehead  of  the  chief. 
Hanuman  saw,  nor  long  delayed 
To  speed  with  Nila  to  his  aid, 
Who  at  the  three-faced  giant  sent 
A  peak  from  Lanka's  mountain  rent. 
But  TrisLras  with  certain  aim 
Shot  rapid  arrows  as  it  came  : 
And  shivered  by  their  force  it  broke 
And  fell  to  earth  with  flash  and  smoke. 
Then  as  the  Wind-God's  son  came  nigh, 
Devantak  reared  his  mace  on  high. 
Hanuman  smote  him  on  the  head 
And  stretched  the  monstrous  giant  dead. 
Fierce  Trisiras  with  fury  strained 
His  bow,  and  showers  of  arrows  rained 
'That  smote  on  Nila's  side  and  ehest: 
He  sank  a  moment,  sore  distressed; 
But  quickly  gathered  strength  to  seize 
A  mountain  with  its  crown  of  trees. 
Crushed  by  the  hill,  distained  with  gore, 
Mahodar  fell  to  rise  no  more. 

Then  Trisiras  raised  high  his  spear 
Which  chilled  the  trembling  foe  with  fear, 
And,  like  a  flashing  meteor  through 
•The  air  at  Hanuman  it  flew. 
The  Vanar  shunned  the  threatened  stroke, 
And  with  strong  hands  the  weapon  broke. 
The  giant  drew  his  glittering  blade  : 
Dire  was  the  wound  the  weapon  made 
Deep  in  th  Vanars  ample  ehest, 
Who,  for  a  moment  sore  oppressed, 
Raised  his  broad  hand,  regaining  might, 
And  struck  the  rover  of  the  night. 
Fierce  was  the  blow  :  with  one  wild  yell 
Low  on  the  earth  the  monster  fell. 
Hanuman  seized  his  fallen  sword 
Which  served  no  more  its  senseless  lord, 
And  from  the  monster  triple-necked 
-Smote  his  huge  heads  with  erowns  be- 
decked. 

Then  Mahaparsva  burned  with  ire  ; 
Fierce  flashed  his  eyes  with  vengeful  fire. 
A  moment  00  the  dead  he  gazed, 
Then  his  blaek  mace  aloft  was  raised, 
And  down  the  mass  ef  iron  came 
That  struck  and  shook  the  Vanar's  frame. 
Hanurnan's  chest  was  well  nigh  crushed, 
And  from  his  mouth  red  torrents  gushed  ; 
Jet  served  oue  instant  to  restore 


His  spirit :  from  the  foe  he  tore 
His  awful  mace,  and  smote,  and  laid 
The  giant  in  the  dust  di&mayed. 
Crushed  were  his  jaws  and  teeth  and  eyes : 
Breathless  and  still  lie  lay  as  lies 
A  summit  from  a  mountain  rent 
By  him  who  rules  the  firmament. 


CANTO  LXXI. 


ATIKAYA'S  DEATH. 

But  Atikaya's  wrath  grew  high 

To  see  his  noblest  kinsmen  die. 

He,  fiercest  of  the  giant  race, 

Presuming  still  on  Brahma's  grace  : 

Proud  tamer  of  the  Immortals'  pride, 

Whose  power  and  might  with  India's  vied, 

For  blood  and  vengeful  carnage  burned, 

And  on  the  foe  his  fury  turned. 

High  on  a  car  that  flashed  and  glowed 

Bright  as  a  thousand  suns  he  rode. 

Around  his  princely  brows  was  set 

A  rich  bejewelled  coronet. 

Gold  pendants  in  his  ears  he  wore  ; 

He  strained  and  tried  the  bow  he  bore, 

And  ever,  as  a  shaft  he  aimed. 

His  name  and  royal  race  proclaimed. 

Scarce  might  the  Vanars  brook  to  hear 

His  clanging  bow  and  voice  of  fear  : 

To  Raghu's  elder  son  they  fled, 

Their  sure  defence  in  woe  and  dread. 

Then  Kama  bent  his  eyes  afar 

And  saw  the  giant  in  his  ear 

Fast  following  the  flying  crowd 

And  roaring  like  a  rainy  cloud. 

He,  with  the  lust  of  battle  tired, 

Turned  to  Vibhishan  and  inquired : 

'Say,  who  is  this,  of  mountain  size, 

This  archer  with  the  lion  eyes  ? 

His  car,  which  strikes  our  host  with  awe, 

A  thousand  eager  coursers  draw. 

Surrounded  by  the  flashing  spears 

Which  line  his  car,  the  chief  appears 

Like  some  hugecloud  when  lightnings  play 

About  it  on  a  stormy  day  ; 

And  the  great  bow  he  joys  to  hold 

Whose  bended  back  is  bright  with  gold, 

As  Indra's  bow  makes  glad  the  skies, 

That  best  of  chariots  glorifies. 

O  .see  the  sunlike  splendour  flung 

From  the  great  flag  above  him  hung, 

Where,  blazoned  with  refulgent  lines, 

Rahu1  the  dreadful  Dragon  shines. 

Full  thirty  quivers  near  his  side, 

His  car  with  shafts  is  well  supplied; 

1  The  demon  of  eclipse  who  seizes  the 
Sun  and  Moon. 


'Canto  LXXI1. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


481 


And  flashing  like  the  light  of  stars 
•Gleam  his  two  mighty  scimitars. 
Sav,  best  of  giants,  who  is  he 
Before  whose  face  the  Vanars  flee  ? ' 
'    Thus  Kama  spake.    Vibhishan  eyed 
The  giants  chief,  and  thus  replied  : 
(  This  Kama,  this  is  Ravan's  son  : 
High  fame  his  youthful  might  has  won. 
He,  best  of  warriors,  bows  his  ear 
The  wisdom  of  the  wise  to  hear. 
Supreme  is  he  mid  those  who  know 
The  mastery  of  sword  and  bow. 
Unrivalled' in  the  bold  attack 
On  elephant's  or  courser's  back, 
He  knows,  beside,  each  subtler  art, 
To  win  the  foe,  to  bribe,  or  part. 
On  him  the  giant  hosts  rely, 
And  fear  no  ill  when  he  is  nigh. 
This  peerless  chieftain  bears  the  name 
Of  Atikaya  huge  of  frame, 
Whom  Dhanyainalini  of  yore 
To  Ravan  lord  of  Lanka  bore.' 

Housed  by  his  bow-string's  awful  clang, 
To  meet  their  foes  the  Vanars  sprang. 
Armed  with  tall  trees  from  Lanka's  wood, 
And  rocks  and  mountain  peaks,  they  stood. 
The  giant's  arrows,  gold-bedecked, 
The  storm  of  hurtling  missiles  checked; 
And  ever  on  his  foemen  poured 
Fierce  tempest  from  his  clanging  cord; 
Nor  could  the  Vanar  chiefs  sustain 
His  shafts'  intolerable  rain. 
They  fled:  the  victor  gained  the  place 
Where  stood  the  lord  of  Raghu's  race, 
And  cried  with  voice  of  thunder :  '  Lo, 
Borne  on  my  car,  with  shaft  and  bow, 
I,  champion  of  the  giants,  scorn 
To  fight  with  weaklings  humbly  born. 
Come  forth  your  bravest,  if  he  dare, 
And  fight  with  one  who  will  not  spare.' 

Forth  sprang  Sumitra's  noble  child,1 
And  strained  his  ready  bow,  and  smiled; 
And  giants  trembled  as  the  clang 
Through  heaven  and  earth  reechoing  rang. 
The  giant  to  his  string  applied 
A  pointed  shaft,  and  proudly  cried  ; 
*  Turn,  turn,  Sumitra's  son  and  fly, 
For  terrible  as  Death  am  I. 
Fly,  nor  that  youthful  form  oppose, 
Untrained  in  war,  to  warriors'  blows. 
What!  wilt  thou  waste  thy  childish  breath 
And  wake  the  dormant  fire  of  death? 
Cast  down,  rash  boy,  that  useless  bow  : 
Preserve  thy  life  ;  uninjured  go.' 

He  ceased :  and  stirred  by  wrath  &  pride 
Sumitra's  noble  son  replied  : 
'  By  warlike  deed,  not  words  alone, 
The  valour  of  the  brave  is  shown. 
Cease  with  vain  boasts  my  scorn  to  move, 

1  Lakshrnan, 


And  with  thinerarm"thy  prowess  prove. 
Borne  on  thy  car,  with  sword  and  bow, 
With  all  thine  arms,  thy  valour  show. 
Fight,  and  my  deadly  shafts  this  day 
Low  in  the  dust  thy  head  shall  lay, 
And.  rushing  fast  in  ceaseless  flood, 
Shall  rend  thy  flesh  and  drink  thy  blood,' 

His  giant  foe  no  answer  made, 
But  on  his  string  an  arrow  laid. 
He  raised  his  arm,  the  cord  he  drew, < 
At  Lakshman's  breast  the  arrow  flew. 
Sumitra's  son,  his  foemen's  dread, 
Shot  a  fleet  shaft  with  crescent  head, 
Which  cleft  that  arrow  pointed  well, 
And  harmless  to  the  earth  it  fell. 
A  shower  of  shafts  from  Lakshman's  bow 
Fell  fast  and  furious  on  the  foe 
Who  quailed  not  as  the  missiles  smote 
With  idle  force  his  iron  coat. 
Then  came  the  friendly  Wind-God  near, 
And  whispered  thus  in  Lakshman's  ear  : 
*  Such  shafts  as  these  in  vain  assail 
Thy  foe's  impenetrable  mail. 
A  more  tremendous  missile  try, 
Or  never  may  the  giant  die. 
Employ  the  mighty  spell,  and  aim 
The  weapon  known  by  Brahma's  name.3 
He  ceased  :  Sumitra's  son  obeyed  : 
On  his -great  bow  the  shaft  was  laid, 
And  with  a  roar  like  thunder,  true 
As  Indra's  Hashing  bolt,  it  flew. 
The  giant  poured  his  shafts  like  rain 
To  check  its  course,  but  all  in  vain. 
With  spear  and  mace  and  sword  he  tried 
To  turn  the  fiery  dart  aside. 
Winged  with  a  force  which  naught  could 

check. 

It  smote  the  monster  in  the  neck, 
And,  sundered  from  his  shoulders,  rolled 
To  earth  his  head  and  helm  of  gold. 


CANTO  LXXII. 


RAVAN'S  SPEECH. 

The  giants  bent,  in  rage  and  grief, 
Their  eyes  upon  the  fallen  chief  ; 
Then  flying  wild  with  fear  and  pale 
To  Uavan  bore  the  mournful  tale. 
He  heard  how  Atikaya  died, 
Then  turned  him  to  his  lords,  and  cried  : 
'  Where  are  they  no  w— my  bravest— where, 
1  Wise  to  consult  and  prompt  to  dare  ? 
Where  is  Dhmnraksha.  skilled  to  wield 
All  weapons  in  the  battle  field  ? 
Akampan,  and  Prahasta's  might, 
And  Kumbhakarna  bold  in  figui? 
These,  these  and':many  a  Rakshas  more, 
master  of  the  arms  he  bore. 


482 


THE  HAM  AY  AN. 


Book   VI 


Who  every  foe  in  fight  overthrew, 

The  victors  none  could  e'er  subdue, 

Have  perished  by  the  might  of  one, 

The  vengeful  arm  of  Raghvi's  son. 

In  vain  I  cast  mine  eyes  around, 

No  match  for  Rama  here  is  found, 

No  chief  to  stand  before  that  how 

Whose  deadly  shafts  have  caused  our  woe.. 

Now,  warriors,  to  your  stations  hence; 

Provide  ye  for  the  wall's  defence, 

And  be  the  Asoka  garden,  where 

The  lady  lies,  your  special  care. 

Be  every  lane  and  passage  barred, 

feet  at  each  gate  a  chosen  guard. 

And  witli  yoar  troops,  where  danger  calls, 

Be  ready  to  defend  the  walls, 

Each  movement  of  the  Vanars  mark ; 

Observe  them  when  the  skies  grow  dark  ; 

Be  ready  in  the  dead  of  night, 

And  ere'the  morning  bring  the  light. 

Taught  by  our  Joss  we  may  not  scorn 

These  legions  of  the  forest-born.' 

He  ceased  :  the  Rakshas  lords  obeyed  ; 
Each  at  his  post  his  troops  arrayed  : 
And,  torn  with  pangs   that  pierced   him 

through 
The  monarch  from  the  hall  withdrew. 


CANTO  LXXIII. 


INDRAJIT'S  VICTORY. 

$5ut  Indrajit  the  fierce  and  bold 

With  words  like  these  his  sire  consoled: 

'<  Dismiss,  O  King,  thy  grief  and  dread, 

And  be  not  thus  disquieted. 

Against  this  numbing  sorrow  strive, 

For  Indrajit  is  yet  alive  ; 

And  none  in  battle  may  withstand 

The  fury  of  his  strong  right  hand. 

This  day,  O  sire,  thine  eyes  shall  see 

The  sons  of  Raghu  slain  by  me.' 

He  ceased  :  he  bade  the  king  farewell: 
•Clear,  mid  the  roar  of  drum  and  shell, 
The  clash  of  sword  and  harness  rang 
As  to  his  car  the  warrior  sprang. 
Close  followed  by  his  Rakshas  train 
Through  Lanka's  gate  he  reached  the  plain. 
Then  down  he  leapt,  and  bade  a  band 
Of  giants  by  the  chariot  stand  : 
Then  with  due  rites,  as  rules  require, 
Did  worship  to  the  Lnrd  of  Fire. 
The  sacred  oil,  as  texts  ordain, 
Withwreathsof  scented  flowers  and  grain, 
Within  the  flame  in  order  due, 
That  mightiest  of  the  giants  threw. 
There  on  the  ground  were  spear  and  blade, 
And  arrowy  leaves  and  fuel  laid, 
Au  iroii  ladle  deep  and  wide, 


And  robes  with  sanguine  colours  dyed. 

Beside  him  stood  a  sable  goat : 

The  giant  seized  it  by  the  "throat, 

And  straight  from  the  consuming  flame 

Auspicious  signs  of  victory  came. 

For  swiftly,  curling  to  the  right^ 

The  tire  leapt  up  with  willing  light 

UiKlimmed  by  smoky  cloud,  and,  red 

Like  gold,  upon  the  offering  fed. 

They  brought  him,    while  the  flame  yet 

glowed, 

The  dart  by  Brahma's  grace  bestowed, 
And  all  the  arms  he  wielded  well 
Were  charmed  with  text  and  holy  spell. 

Then  fiercer  for  the  tight  he  burned, 
And  at  the  foe  his  chariot  turned, 
While  all  his  followers  lifting  high 
Their  maees  charged  with  furious  cry. 
Dire,  yet  more  dire  the  battle  grew, 
As  rocks  and  trees  and  arrows  flew. 
The  giant  shot  his  shafts  like  rain, 
And  Vanars  fell  in  myriads  slain. 
Sugriva,  Angad,  Nila'felt 
The  wounds  his  hurtling  arrows  dealt, 
His  shafts  the  blood  of  Gnya  drank  ; 
Hanuman  reeled  and  Mainda  sank. 
Bright  as  the  glances  of  the  sun 
Came  the  swift  darts  they  could  not  shun, 
Caught  in  the  arrowy  nets  he  wove. 
In  vain  the  sons  of  Raghu  strove  : 
And  Rama,  by  the  darts  oppressed, 
His  brother  chieftain  thus  addressed  : 
'See,  first  this  giant  warrior  sends 
Destruction  mid  our  Vanar  friends, 
And  now  his  arrows  thick  and  fast 
Their  binding  net  around  us  cast. 
To  Brahma's  grace  the  chieftain  owes 
The  matchless  power  and  might  he  shows; 
And  mortal  strength  in  vain  contends 
With  him  whom  Brahma's  self  befriends, 
Then  let  us  still  with  dauntless  hearts 
Endure  this  storm  of  pelting  darts. 
Soon  must  we  sink  bereaved  of  sense  ; 
And  then  the  victor,  hurrying  hence, 
Will  seek  his  father  in  his  hall 
And  tell  Mm  of  his  foemen's  fall.' 
He  ceased :  o'erpowered  by  shaft  and  spell 
The  sons  of  Raghu  reeled  and  fell. 
The  Rakshas  on  their  bodies  gazed  ; 
And,  mid  the  shouts  his  followers  raised, 
Sped  back  to  Lanka  to  relate 
In  Ravan's  hall  the  princes'  fate. 


CANTO  LXXIV. 


THE  MEDICINAL  HERBS. 

The  shades  of  falling  night  concealed 
The  carnage  of  the  battle  field, 


Canto  LXXIV. 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Which,  hearing  each  a  blazing  brand, 
Hanuman  and  Vibhislmn  scanned, 
Moving  with  slow  and  anxious  tread 
Among  the  dying  and  the  dead. 
Sad  was  the  scene  of  slaughter  shown 
Where'er  the  torches'  light  was  thrown. 
Here  mountain  forms  of  Variars  lay 
Whose  heads  and  limbs  were  lopped  away 
Arms  legs  and  fingers  strewed  the  ground, 
And  severed  heads  lay  thick  around. 
The  earth  was  moist  with  sanguine  streams. 
And  sighs  were  heard  and  groans  aud 

screams. 

There  lay  Sugriva  still  and  cold, 
There  Augad,  once  so  brave  and  bold. 
There  Jambavan  his  might  reposed, 
There  Vegadarsi's  eyes  were  closed  ; 
There  in  the  dust  was  Nala's  pride, 
And  Dwivid  lay  by  Mainda's  side. 
Where'er  they  looked  the   ensanguined 

plain 

Was  strewn  with  myriads  of  the  slain  ;! 
They  sought  with  keenly  searching  eyes 
King  -lambavan  supremely  wise. 
His  strength  hail  failed  by  slow  decay, 
And  pierced  with  countless  shafts  he  lay. 
They  saw,  and  hastened  to  his  side, 
And  tliiLs  the  sage  Vibhishan  cried  : 
'  Thee,  monarch  of  the  bears,  we  seek  : 
Speak  if  thou  yet  art  living,  speak.' 
Slow  came  the  aged  chief's  reply  ; 
Scarce  could  he  say  with  many  a  sigh  : 
Torn  with  keen  shafts  which  pierce  each 


My  strength  is  gone,  my  sight  is  dim  ; 
Yet  though  I  scarce  can  raise  mine  eyes, 
Thy  voice.  0  chief.  I  recognize. 
O,  while  these  ears  can  hear  thee,  say, 
Has  Hanunian  survived  this  day  "i  ' 

;  Why  ask,'  Vibhishan  cried,'  for  one 
Of  lower  rank,  the  Wind-God's  son? 
Hast  thou  forgotten,  first  in  place, 
The  princely  chief  of  liaghu's  race  ? 
Can  King  Sugriva  claim  no  care, 
And  Angad,  his  imperial  heir  ?' 

'  Yea,  dearer  than  my  noblest  friends 
Is  he  on  whom  our  hope  depends. 
For  if  (he  Wind-God's  son  survive, 
All  we  though  dead  are  yet  alive. 
But  if  his  precious  life  be  fled 
Though  living  still  we  are  but  dead  : 
He  is  our  hope  and  sure  relief.' 
Thus  slowly  spoke  the  aged  chief  : 
Then  to  his  side  Hanuman  came. 
And  with  low  reverence  named  his  name. 

1  In  such  cases  as  this  I  am  not  careful 
to  reproduce  the  numbers  of  the  poet. 
which  in  the  text  which  I  follow  are 
670(100000  ;  the  Bengal  recension  being 
content  with  thirty  million  less. 


Cheered  by  the  face  he  longed  to  view 
The  wounded  chieftain  lived  anew. 
'Go  forth,'  he  cried,  'O  strong  and  brave> 
And  in  their  woe  the  Vanars  save. 
'No  might  but  thine,  supremely  great, 
May  help  us  in  our  lost  estate. 
The  trembling  bears  and  Vanars  cheer, 
Calm  their  sad  hearts,  dispel  their  fear* 
Save  Raghu'd  noble  sons,  and  heal 
The  deep  wounds  of  the  winged  steel. 
High  o'er  the  waters  of  the  sea 
To  far  Himalaya's  summits  nee. 
Kailasa  there  wilt  thou  behold, 
Ana  Kri.shabh  with  his  peaks  of  gold. 
Between  them  see  a  mountain  rise 
Whose  splendour  will  enchant  thine  eyes  ;: 
His  sides  are  clothed  above,  below, 
With  all  the  rarest  herbs  that  grow. 
Upon  that  mountain's  lofty  crest 
Four  plants,  of  sovereign  powers  possessed,. 
Spring  from  the  soil,  and  flashing  there 
Shed  radiance  through  the  neighbouring 

air. 

One  draws  the  shaft :  one  brings  again 
The  breath  of  life  to  warm  the  slain  : 
One  heals  each  wound  ;  one  gives  anew 
To  faded  cheeks  their  wonted  hue. 
Fly,  chieftain,  to  that  mountain's  brow 
Arid  bring  those  herbs  to  save  us  now.' 

Hanuman  heard,  and  springing  through 
The  air  like  Vishnu's  discus1  tievv. 
The  sea  was  passed  :  beneath  him,  gay 
With  bright-winged  birds,  the  mountains 

lay, 

And  brook  and  lake  and  lonely  glen, 
And  fertile  lands  with  toiling  men. 
On,  on  he  sped  :  before  him  rose 
The  mansion  of  perennial  snows. 
There  soared  the  glorious  peaks  as  fair 
As  white  clouds  in  the  summer  air. 
Here,  bursting  from  the  leafy  shade, 
In  thunder  leapt  the  wild  cascade. 
He  looked  on  many  a  pure  retreat 
Dear  to  the  Gods'  and  sages'  feet : 
The  spot  where  Brahma  dwells  apart, 
The  place   whence   Budra  launched   hi$ 

dart;? 

Vishnu's  high  seat  and  Indra's  home, 
And  slopes  where  Yama's  servants  roam. 
There  was  Kuvera's  bright  abode  ; 
There  Brahma's  mystic  weapon  glowed. 
There  was  the  noble  hill  whereon 

The  discus  or  quoit,  a  sharp-edged 
circular  missile  is  the  favourite  weapon 
of  Vishnu. 

*  To  destroy  Tripura  the  triple  city  in 
the  sky,  air  and  earth,  built  by  Maya  for 
a  celebrated  Asur  or  demon,  or  as  another 
commentator  explains,  to  destroy  Kail* 
darpa  or  Love. 


484 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Bool:    VI 


Those  herbs  with  wondrous  lustre  shone, 
And,  ravished  by  the  glorious  sight, 
Han  urn  an  rested  on  the  height. 
He,  moving  down  the  glittering  peak, 
The  healing  herbs  began  to  seek  ; 
But,  when  lie  thought  to  seize  the  prize, 
They  hid  them  from  his  eager  eyes. 
Then  to  the  hill  in  wrath  he  spake  : 
'  Mine  arm  tin's  day  shall  vengeance  take: 
If  thou  wilt  feel  no  pity,  none, 
In  this  great  need  of  Raghu's  son,' 
He  ceased  :  his  mighty  arms  he  bent 
And  from  the  trembling  mountain  rent 
His  huge  head  with  the  life  it  bore, 
Snakes,  elephants,  and  golden  ore. 
O'er  hill  and  plain  and  watery  waste 
His  rapid  way  again  he  traced, 
And  mid  the  wondering  Vanars  laid 
His  burthen  through  the  air  conveyed, 
The  wondrous  herbs'  delightful  scent 
To  all  the  host  new  vigour  lent. 
Free  from  all  darts  and  wounds  and  pain 
The  sons  of  Raghu  lived  again, 
And  dead  and  dying  Vanars  healed 
Rose  vigorous  from  the  battle  field. 


CANTO  LXXV. 


THE  NIGHT  ATTACK. 

Sugriva  spake  in  words  like  these  : 
4  Now,  Vanar  lords,  the  occasion  seize. 
For  now,  of  sons  and  brothers  reft, 
To  Ravan  little  hope  is  left ; 
And  if  our  host  his  gates  assail 
His  weak  defence  will  surely  fail.' 

At  dead  of  night  the  Vanar  bands 
Rushed  on  with  torches  in  their  hands. 
Scared  by  tho  corning  of  the  host 
Each  giant  warder  left  his  post. 
Where'er  the  Vanar  legions  came 
Their  way  was  marked  with  hostile  flame 
That  spread  in  fury  to  devour 
Palace  and  temple,  gate  and  tower. 
Down  came  the  walls  and  porches,  down 
Came  stately  piles  that  graced  the  town. 
In  many  a  liouse  the  fire  was  red, 
On  sandal  wood  and  aloe  fed, 
And  scorching  flames  in  billows  rolled 
O'er  diamonds  and  pearls  and  gold. 
On  cloth  of  wool,  on  silk  brocade, 
On  linen  robes  their  fury  preyed. 
Wheels,  poles  and  yokes  were    burned, 

and  all 

The  coursers'  harness  in  the  stall ; 
And  elephants'  and  chariots'  gear, 
The  sword,  the  buckler,  and  the  spear. 
Scared  by  the  crash  of  falling  beams, 
Mid  lamentations,  groans  "and  screams, 


Forth  rushed  the  giants  through  the  flames 
And  with  them  dragged  bewildered  dames 
Each,  with  o'erwhelming  terror  wild, 
Still  clasping  to  her  breast  a  child. 
The  swift  lire  from  a  cloud  of  smoke 
Th rough  many  a  gilded  lattice  broke, 
And.  melting  pearl  and  coral,  rose 
O'er  balconies  and  porticoes. 
The  startled  crane  and  peacock  screamed 
As    with   strange     light    the     courtyarc 

gleamed, 

And  tierce  unusual  glare  was  thrown 
On  shrinking  wood  and  heated  stone. 
From  burning  stall  and  stable  freed 
Kushed  frantic  elephant  and  steed, 
And  goaded  by  the  driving  bla/e 
Fled  wildly  through  the  crowded  ways. 
As  earth  with  fervent  heat  will  glow 
When  comes  her  final  overthrow  ; 
From  gate  to  gate,  from  court  to  spire 
Proud  Lanka  was  one  blaze  of  fire, 
And  every  headland,  rock  and  bay 
Shone  bright  a  hundred  leagues  away, 
Forth,  blinded  by  the  heat  and  flame 
Ran  countless  giants  huge  of  frame  ; 
And,  mustering  for  fierce  attack, 
The  Vanars  charged  to  drive  them  back, 
While  shout  and  scream  and  roar  and  cry 
Reechoed  through  the  earth  and  sky. 
There  Kama  stood  with  strength  renewed, 
And  ever,  as  the  foe  he  viewed, 
Shaking  the  distant  regions  rang 
His  mighty  bow's  tremendous  clang. 
Then  through  the  gates  Nikumbha  hied, 
And  Kumbha  by  his  brother's  side, 
Sent  forth — the  bravest  and  the  best — 
To  battle  by  the  king's  behest. 
There  fought  the  chiefs  in  open  field, 
And  Angad  fell  and  Dwivid  reeled. 
Sugriva  saw:  by  rage  impelled 
He  crushed  the  bow  which  Kumbha  held. 
About  his  foe  Sugriva  wound 
His  arms,  and,  heaving  from  the  ground 
The  giant  hurled  him  o'er  the  bank  ; 
And  deep  beneath  the  sea  he  sank. 
Like  mandar  hill  with  furious  swell 
Up  leapt  the  waters  where  he  fell. 
Again  he  rose  :  he  sprang  to  land 
And  raised  on  high  his  threatening  hand: 
Full  011  Sugriva's  chest  it  came 
And  shook  the  Vanar's  massy  frame, 
But  on  the  wounded  bone  he  broke 
His  wrist — so  furious  was  the  stroke. 
With  force  that  naught  could  stay  or  check, 
Sugriva  smote  him  neath  the  neck, 
The  fierce  blow  crashed  through  flesh  and 

bone 

And  Kumbha  lay  in  death  overthrown. 
Sfikumbha  saw  his  brother  die, 
And  red  with  fury  flashed  his  eye. 
He  dashed  with  mighty  sway  and  swing 


Canto  XCIII. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


485 


His  axe  against  the  Vanar  king  ; 

But  shattered  on  that  living  rock 

It  split  in  fragments  at  the  shock. 

Sugriva.  rising  to  the  blow, 

liaised  his  huge  hand  and  smote  his  foe. 

And  in  the  dust  the  giant  lay 

Gasping  in  blood  his  soul  away.1 


CANTO  XCIII, 


KAVAN'S  LAMENT. 


They  sought  the  king,  a  mournful  train, 
And  cried. '  My  lord,  thy  son  is  slain. 
By  Lakshman's  hand,  before  these  eyes, 
The  warrior  fell  no  more  to  rise. 
2STo  time  is  this  for  vain  regret  : 
Thy  hero  sou  a  hero  met  ; 
And  he  whose  might  in  battle  pressed 
Lord  Indra  and  the  Gods  confessed, 
Whose  power  was  stranger  to  defeat, 
Has  gamed  in  heaven  a  blissful  seat. 

The  monarch  heard  the  mournful  tale  : 
His  heart  was  faint,  his  cheek  was  pale  ; 
His  fleeting  sense  at  length  regained, 
In  trembling  tones  he  thus  complained  : 
4  Ah  me,  my  son,  my  pride  :  the  boast 
And  glory  of  the  giant  host. 
Could  Lakshman's  puny  might  defeat 
The  foe  whom  Indra  feared  to  meet? 
Could  not  thy  deadly  arrows  split 
Proud  Mandar's  peaks,  O  Indrajit, 

1  I  have  briefly  despatched  Kumbha 
and  Nikumbha,  each  of  whom  has  in  the 
text  a  long  Canto  to  himself.  When  they 
fall  Ravan  sends  forth  Makaraksha  or 
Crocodile-Eye,  the  son  of  Khara  who  was 
slain  by  Rama  in  the  forest  before  the 
abduction  of  Sita.  The  account  of  his 
sallying  forth,  of  his  battle  with  Kama 
and  of  his  death  by  the  fiery  dart  of  that 
hero  occupies  two  Cantos  which  I  entirely 
pass  over.  Indrajit  again  comes  forth 
and,  rendered  invisible  by  his  magic  art 
slays  countless  Vanars  with  his  unerring 
arrows.  He  retires  to  the  city  and  re- 
turns bearing  in  his  chariot  ah  effigy  of 
Sita,  the  work  of  magic,  weeping  and 
wailing  by  his  side.  He  grasps  the  lovely 
image  by  the  hair  and  cuts  it  down  with 
his  scimitar  in  the  sight  of  the  enraged 
Hanimian  and  all  the  Vanar  host.  At 
last  after  much  fighting  of  the  usual  kind 
Indrajit's  chariot  is  broken  in  pieces,  his 
charioteer  is  slain,  and  he  himself  falls 
by  Lakshman's  hand,  to  the  inexpressible 
delight  of  the  high-souled  saints,  the 
nymphs  of  heaveu  and  other  celestial 
beings, 


And  the  Destroyer's  self  destroy? 
And  wast  them  conquered  by  a  boy  ? 
I  will  not  weep  :  thy  noble  deed 
Has  blessed  thee  with  immortal  meed 
Gained  by  each  hero  in  the  skies 
Who  fighting  for  his  sovereign  dies. 
Now,  fearless  of  all  meaner  foes. 
The  guardian  Gods1  will  taste  repose  : 
But  earth  to  rne.  with  hill  and  plain, 
In  desolate,  for  thou  art  slain. 
Ah,  whither  hast  thou  fled,  and  left 
Thy  mother,  Lanka,  me  bereft  ; 
Left  pride  and  state  and  wives  behind,. 
And  lordship  over  all  thy  kind  ? 
I  fondly  hoped  thy  hand  should  pay 
Due  honours  on  my  dying  day  : 
And  couldst  thou,  O  beloved,  flee 
And  leave  thy  funeral  rites  to  me  ? 
Life  has  no  comfort  left  me,  none, 
O  Indrajifc  my  son,  my  son.' 

Thus  wailed  he  broken  by  his  woes  : 
But  swift  the  thought  of  vengeance  rose, 
In  awful  wrath  his  teeth  he  gnashed, 
And  from  his  eyes  red  lightning  flashed. 
Hot  from  his  mouth  came  lire  and  smoke, 
As  thus  the  king  in  fury  spoke  : 

•  Through  many  a  thousand  years  of  yore 
The  penance  and  the  pain  I  bore, 
And  by  fierce  torment  well  sustained 
The  highest  grace  of  Brahma  gained, 
His  plighted  word  my  life  assured, 
From  Gods  of  heaven  and  fiends  secured. 
He  armed  my  limbs  with  burnished  mail 
Whose  lustre  turns  the  sunbeams  pale, 
In  battle  proof  gainst  heavenly  bands 
With  thunder  in  their  threatening  hands. 
Armed  in  this  mail  myself  will  go 
With  Brahma's  gift  my  deadly  bow, 
And,  cleaving  through  the  foes  my  way, 
The  slayers  of  my  son  will  slay.' 

Then,'  by  his  grief  to  frenzy  wrought, 
The  captive  in  the  grove  he  sought. 
Swift  through  the  shady  path  he  sped  : 
Earth  trembled  at  his  furious  tread. 
Fierce  were  his  eyes  :  his  monstrous  hand 
Held  drawn  for  death  his  glittering  brand. 

1  The  Lokapalas  are  sometimes  regard- 
ed as  deities  appointed  by  Brahma  at  the 
creation  of  the  word  to  act  as  guardians 
of  different  orders  of  beings,  but  more 
commonly  they  are  identified  with  the 
deities  presiding  over  the  four  cardinal 
and  four  intermediate  points  of  the  com- 
pass, which,  according  to  Manu  V.90,  are 
1,  Indra,  guardian  of  the  East  :  2,  Agni, 
of  the  South-east ;  3,  Yama,  of  the  South  ; 
4,  Surya,  of  the  South-west ;  5,  Varuna, 
of  the  West  ;  6,  Pavana  or  Vayu.  of  the 
North-west ;  7,  Kuvera.  of  the  North  ;  8r 
Soina  or  Chandra,  of  the  North-east, 


486 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book   VI. 


There  weeping  stood  the  Maithil  dame  : 

She  shuddered  as  the  giant  came. 

Near  drew  the  rover  of  the  night 

And  raised  his  sword  in  act  to  smite  ; 

But,  by  his  nobler  heart  impelled, 

One  Rakshas  lord  his  arm  withheld  : 

*  Wilt  thou,  great  Monarch,'  thus  he  cried, 

4  Wilt  thou,  to  heavenly  Gods  allied, 

Blot  for  all  time  thy  glorious  fame, 

The  slayer  of  a  gentle  dame  ? 

What  !  shall  a  woman's  blood  be  spilt 

To  stain  thee  with  eternal  guilt, 

Thee  deep  in  all  the  Veda's  lore  ? 

Far  be  the  thought  for  evermore. 

Ah  look,  and  let  her  lovely  face 

This  fury  from  thy  bosom  chase.' 

He  ceased  :  the  prudent  counsel  pleased 
The  monarch,  and  his  wrath  appeased  ; 
Then  to  his  council  hall  in  haste 
The  giaut  lord  his  steps  retraced.1 

CANTO  XCVI. 


RAVAN'S  SALLY. 

The  groans  and  cries  of  dames  who  wailed 
The  ears  of  Lanka's  lord  assailed, 
For  from  each  house  and  home  was  sent 
The  voice  of  weeping  and  lament. 
In  troubled  thought  his  head  he  bowed, 
Then  fiercely  looking  on  the  crowd 
Of  nobles  near  his  throne  he  broke 
The  silence,  and  in  fury  spoke  : 
'This  day  my  deadly  shafts  shall  fly, 
And  Raghu's  sons  shall  surely  die. 
This  day  shall  countless  Vanars  bleed 
And  dogs  and  kites  and  vultures  feed. 
Go.  bid  them  swift  my  car  prepare, 
Bring  the  great  bow  I  long  to  bear : 
And  let  my  host  with  sword  and  shield 
And  spear  be  ready  for  the  field.' 

From  street  to  street  the  captains  passed 
And  Rakshas  warriors  gathered  fast. 
With  spear  and  sword  to  pierce  and  strike, 
And  axe  and  club  and  mace  and  pike.5* 


1  I  omit  two  (Jantos  in  the  first  of  which 
Hama  with  an  enchanted  Gandharva 
weapon  deals  destruction  among  the 
Rakshases  sent  out  by  Ravan.  and  in  the 
second  the  Rakshas  dames' lament  the 
slain  and  mourn  over  the  madness  of 
Kavan. 

*  I'omit  several  weapons  for  which  I 
cannot  find  distinctive  names,  and  among 
them  the  tiataglud  or  Centlcide,  supposed 
by  some  to  be  a  kind  of  ti re*arms  or  rocket, 
but  described  by  a  commentator  on  the 
Mahabharata  as  a  stone  or  cylindrical 
piece  of  wood  studded  with  iron  spikes. 


Then  Ravan's  warrior  chariot1  wrought 
With  gold  and  rich  inlay  was  brought. 
Mid  tinkling  bells  and  weapons'  clang 
The  monarch  on  the  chariot  sprang, 
Which,  decked  with  gems  of  every  hue, 
Eigiit  steeds  of  noble  lineage  drew. 
Mid  roars  of  drum  and  shell  rang  out 
From  countless  throats  a  joyful  shout, 
As,  girt  with  hosts  in  warlike  pride, 
Through  Lanka's  streets  the  tyrant  hied. 
Still,  louder  than  the  roar  of  drums, 
Went  up  the  cry  '  He  comes,  he  comes, 
Our  ever  conquering  lord  who  trod 
Beneath  his  feet  both  fiend  and  God.' 
On  to  the  gate  the  warriors  swept 
Where  Raghu's  sons  their  station  kept. 
When  Ravan's  car  the  portal  passed 
The  sun  in  heaven  was  overcast. 
Earth  rocked  and  reeled  from  side  to  side 
And  birds  with  boding  voices  cried, 
Against  the  standard  of  the  king 
A  vulture  flapped  his  horrid  wing. 
Big  gouts  of  blood  before  him  dropped, 
His  trembling  steeds  in  terror  stopped. 
The  hue  of  death  was  on  his  cheek, 
And  scarce   his  flattering    tongue  could 

speak, 

When,  terrible  with  flash  and  flame, 
Through  murky  air  a  meteor  came. 
Still  by  the  hand  of  Death  impelled 
His  onward  way  the  giant  held. 
The  Vanars  in  the  field  afar 
Heard  the  loud  thunder  of  his  car, 
And  turned  with  warriors1  tierce  delight 
To  meet  the  giant  in  the  fight. 
He  came  :  his  clanging  bow  he  drew 
And  myriads  of  the  Vanars  slew. 
Some  through  the  side  and  heart  he  cleft, 
Some  headless  on  the  plain  were  left. 
Some  struggling  groaned   with  mangled 

thighs, 
Or  broken  arms  or  blinded  eyes.2 

1  The  chariots  of  Kavan's  present  army 
are  said  to  have  been  one  hundred  and 
fifty  million  in  number  with  three  hundred 
million  elephants,  and  twelve  hundred 
million  horses  and  asses.  The  footmen 
are  merely  said  to  have  been  'unnumbered.' 

*  I  omit  Cantos  XCVII..  XCVIII.,and 
XCIX,  which  describe  in  the  usual  way 
three  single  combats  between  Sugriva  and 
Angadonthe  Vanar  side  and  Virupaksha. 
Mahodar,  and  Mahapargva  on  the  side  of 
the  giants.  The  weapons  of  the  Vanars 
are  trees  and  rooks  :  the  giants  fight  with 
swords,  axes,  and  bows  and  arrows.  The 
details  are  generally  the  same  as  those  of 
preceding  duels.  The  giants  fall,  oiie  ia 
each  Canto. 


Canto  CI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


487 


CANTO  C. 


RAVAN  IN  THE  FIELD. 


Still  Raghu's  son  endured,  and  bore 

Thatcrown  of  shafts  though  wounded  sore. 

O'er  a  dire  dart  a  spell  he  spoke 

With  mystic  power  to  aid  the  stroke. 

In  vain  upon  the  foe  it  smote 

Rebounding  from  the  steelproof  coat. 

The  giant  armed  his  bow  anew, 

And  wondrous  weapons  hissed  and  flew, 

Terrific,  deadly,  swift  of  flight, 

Beaked  like  the  vulture  and  the'kite, 

Or  bearing  heads  of  fearful  make, 

Of  lion,  tiger,  wolf  and  snake.1 

Then  Raina,  troubled  by  the  storm 

Of  flying  darts  in  every  form 

Shot  by  an  arm  that  naught  could  tire, 

Launched  at  the  foe  his  dart  of  fire, 

Which,  sacred  to  the  Lord  of  Flame, 

Burnt  and  consumed  where'er  it  came. 

And  many  a  blazing  shaft  beside 

The  hero  to  his  string  applied. 

With  fiery  course  of  dazzling  hue 

Swift  to  the  mark  each  missile  flew, 

Some  flashing  like  a  shooting  star, 

Some  as  the  tongues  of  lightning  are  ; 

One  like  a  brilliant  plant,  one 

In  splendour  like  the  morning  sun. 

Where'er  the  shafts  of  Kama  burned 

The  giant's  darts  were  foiled  and  turned. 

Far  into  space  his  weapons  fled, 

But  as  they  flew  struck  thousands  dead. 


CANTO  CI. 


I^AKSHMAN'S  FALL. 

When  Ravan  saw  his  darts  repelled, 
With  double  rage  his  bosom  swelled. 
He  summoned,  wroth  but  undismayed, 
A  mightier  charm  to  lend  its  aid. 
And,  fierce  as  fire  before  the  blast, 
A  storm  of  missiles  thick  and  fast, 
Spear,  pike  and  javelin,  mace  and  brand, 
Ca^me  hurtling  from  the  giant's  hand. 
But,  mightier  still,  the  arms  employed 
By  Raghu's  son  their  force  destroyed, 
And  every  dart  fell  dulled  and  spent 
By  powers  the  bards  of  heaven  had  lent. 
With  his  huge  mace  Vibhishan  slew 
The  steeds  that  Mva^'s  chariot  drew. 

1  It  is  not  very  easy  to  see  the  advant- 
age of  having  arrows  headed  in  the  way 
mentioned.  Fanciful  names  for  war-en- 
gines and  weapons  derived  from  their  re- 
semblance to  various  animals  are  not  con- 
fined to  India.  The  "War-wolf  was. 
used  by  Edward  I.  at  the  siege  of  Breehin, 
;he  " Cat-house"  and  the  "  Sow  "  were 
used  by  Edward  ill.  at  the  seigepf  Dunbar. 


48S 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  VI. 


Then  Ravan  hurled  in  deadly  ire 
A  ponderous  spear  that  flashed  like  fire: 
But  Rama's  arrows  checked  its  way, 
And  harmless  on  the  earth  it  lay, 
The  giant  seized  a  mightier  spear, 
Which  Death  himself  would  shun  with  fear, 
Vibhishan  with  the  stroke  had  died, 
But  Lakshman's  hand  his  bowstring  plied, 
And  flyiug  arrows  thick  as  hail 
Smote  fiercely  on  the  giant's  mail. 
Then  Ravan  turned  his  aim  aside, 
On  Lakshman  looked  and  fiercely  cried  : 
1  Thou,  thou  again  my  wrath  hast  braved, 
And  from  his  death  Vibhishan  saved. 
Now  in  his  stead  this  spear  receive 
Whosedeadly  point  thy  heart  shall  cleave.' 

He  ceased  :  he  hurled  the  mortal  dart 
By  Maya  forged  with  magic  art. 
The  spear,  with  all  his  fury  flung, 
Swift,  flickering  like  a  serpent's  tongue, 
Adorned  with  many  a  tinkling  bell, 
Smote  Lakshman,  and  the  hero  fall. 
When  Rama  saw,  he  heaved  a  sigh, 
A  tear  one  rnbment  dimmed  his  eye. 
But  tender  grief  was  soon  repressed 
A  nd  thoughts  of  vengeance  filled  his  breast. 
The  air  around  him  flashed  and  gleamed 
As  from  his  bow  the  arrows  streamed  ; 
And  Lanka's  lord,  the  foeman's  dread, 
O'envhelmed  with  terror  turned  and  fled. 

CANTO  CII. 
LAKSHMAN  HEALED. 

But  Rama,  pride  of  Raghu's  race, 
Gazed  tenderly  on  Lakshman's  face, 
And,  as  the  sight  his  spirit  broke, 
Turned  to  Sushen  and  sadly  spoke  : 
'  Where  is  my  power  and  valour  ?  how 
Shall  I  have  heart  for  battle  now, 
When  dead  before  my  weeping  eyes 
My  brother,  noblest  Lakshman,  lies? 
My  tears  in  blinding  torrents  "flow, 
My  hand  unnerved  has  dropped  my  bow. 
The  pangs  of  woe  have  blanched  my  cheek, 
My  heart  is  sick,  my  strength  is  weak. 
Ah  me,  my  brother  1  Ah,  that  I 
By  Lakshman's  side  might  sink  and  die  : 
Life,  war  and  conquest,  all  are  vain 
If  Lakshman  lies  in  battle  slain, 
Why  will  those  eyes  my  glances  shun  ? 
Hast  thou  no  word  of  answer,  none  ? 
Ah,  is  thy  noble  spirit  flown 
And  gone  to  other  worlds  alone  ? 
Couldst  thou  not  let  thy  brother  seek 
Those  worlds  with  thee"?  O  speak,  O  speak 
Kise  up  once  more,  my  brother,  rise, 
Look  on  me  with  thy  loving  eyes. 
Were  not  tky  steps  beside  me  still 


In  gloomy  wood,  on  breezy  hill  ? 
Did  not  thy  gentle  care  assuage 
Thy  brother's  grief  and  fitful  rage  ? 
Didst  thou  not  all  his  troubles  share, 
His  guide  and  comfort  in  despair?' 

As  llama,  vanquished,  wept  and  sighed 
The  Vanar  chieftain  thus  replied  : 
'  Great  Prince,  unmanly  thoughts  dismiss, 
Nor  yield  thy  soul  to  grief  like  this. 
In  vain  those  burning  tears  are  shed : 
Our  glory  Lakshinan  is  not  dead. 
Death  on  his  brow  no  mark  has  set, 
Where  beauty's  lustre  lingers  yet. 
Clear  is  the  skin,  and  tender  hues 
Of  lotus  flowers  his  palms  suffuse. 
O  Rama,  cheer  thy  trembling  heart ; 
Not  thus  do  life  and  body  part. 
Now,  Hanuman,  to  thee  I  speak  : 
Hie  hence  to  tall  Mahodaya's1  peak 
Where  herbs  of  sovereign  virtue  grow 
Which  life  and  health  and  strength  bestow. 
Bring  thou  the  leaves  to  balm  his  pain, 
And  Lakshman  shall  be  well  again,' 

He  ceased  :  the  Wind -God's  son  obeyed 
Swift  through  the  clouds  his  way  he  made. 
He  readied  the  hill,  nor  stayed  to  find 
The  wondrous  herbs  of  healing  kind, 
From  its  broad  base  the  mount  he  tore 
With  all  the  shrubs  and  trees  it  bore, 
Sped  through  the  clouds  again  and  showed 
To  wise  Sushen  his  woody  load.  * 
Sushen  in  wonder  viewed  the  hill, 
And  culled  the  sovereign  salve  of  ill. 
JSoon  as  the  healing  herb  he  found, 
The  fragrant  leaves  he  crush  ed  and  ground, 
Then  over  Lakshman's  face  he  bent, 
Who,  healed  andstrengthened  by  the  scenj 
Of  that  blest  herb  divinely  sweet, 
Rose  fresh  and  lusty  on  his  feet. 

CANTO  GUI. 


INDRA'S  CAR. 

Then  Raghu's  son  forgot  his  woe  ; 
Again  he  grasped  his  fallen  bow 
And  hurled  at  Lanka's  lord  amain 
The  tempest  of  his  arrowy  rain. 


1  Apparently  a  peak  of  the  Himalayi 
chain. 

*  This  exploit  of  Hanuman  is  relatec 
with  inordinate  prolixity  in  the  Benga 
recension  (Gorresio's  text).  Among  othe 
adventures  he  narrowly  escapes  bein« 
shot  by  Bharat  as  he  passes  over  Nandi 
grama  near  Ayodhya.  Hanuman  stay 
Bharat  in  time,  and  gives  him  an  accoun 
of  what  has  befallen  Rama  and  SH&  i] 
the  forest  and  in  LaoMc 


Canto  CVL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


489 


Drawn  by  the  steeds  his  lords  had  brought, 
Again  the  giant  turned  and  fought, 
And  drove  nis  glittering  chariot  nigh 
As  springs  the  Day-God  through  the  sky. 
Then,  as  his  sounding  bow  he  bent, 
Like  thunderbolts  his  shafts  were  sent, 
As  when  dark  clouds  in  rain  time  shed 
Fierce  torrents  on  a  mountain's  head. 
High  on  his  car  the  giant  rode, 
On  foot  the  son  of  Raghu  strode. 
The  Gods  from  their  celestial  height 
Indignant  saw  the  unequal  fight. 
Then  he  whom  heavenly  hosts  revere, 
Lord  Indra,  called  his  charioteer : 

1  Haste,  Matali,'  he  cried,  'descend  ; 
To  Raghu's  son  my  chariot  lend. 
With  cheering  words  the  chief  address  ; 
And  all  the  Gods  thy  deed  will  bless.' 

He  bowed  ;  he  brought  the  glorious  car 
Whose  tinkling  bells  were  heard  afar  ; 
Fair  as  the  sun  of  morning,  bright 
With  gold  and  pearl  and  lazulite. 
He  yoked  the  steeds  of  tawny  hue 
That  swifter  than  the  tempest  flew. 
Then  down  the  slope  of  heaven  he  hied 
And  stayed  the  car  by  Rama's  side. 
«  Ascend,  O  Chief.1  he"  humbly  cried, 
*  The  chariot  which  the  Gods  provide, 
The  mighty  bow  of  Indra  see, 
Sent  by  the  Gods  who  favour  thee  ; 
Behold  this  coat  of  glittering  mail, 
And  spear  and  shafts  which  never  fail.' 

Cheered   by  the   grace  the   Immortals 

showed 

The  chieftain  on  the  chariot  rode. 
Then  as  the  car-borne  warriors  met 
The  awful  fight  raged  fiercer  yet. 
Each  shaft  that  Ravan  shot  became 
A  serpent  red  with  kindled  flame, 
And  round  the  limbs  of  Rama  hung 
With  fiery  jaws  and  quivering  tongue. 
But  every  serpent  fled  dismayed 
When  Raghu's  valiant  son  displayed 
The  weapon  of  the  Feathered  King,1 
And  loosed  his  arrows  from  the  string. 
But  Ravan  armed  his  bow  anew, 
And  showe'rs  of  shafts  at  Rama  flew, 
While  the  fierce  king  in  switt  career 
Smote  with  a  dart  the  charioteer. 
An  arrow  shot  by  Ravan's  hand 
Laid  the  proud  banner  on  the  sand, 
And  Indra's  steeds  of  heavenly  strain 
Fell  by  the  iron  tempest  slain. 
On  Gods  and  spirits  of  the  air 
Fell  terror,  trembling,  and  despair. 
The  sea's  white  billows  mounted  high 


1  As  Garud  the  king  of  birds  is  the 
mortal  enemy  of  serpents  the  weapon 
sacred  to  him  is  of  course  best  calculated 
to  deatioy  the  serpent  arrows  of  Ravan, 


With  froth  and  foam  to  drench  the  sky, 
The  sun  by  lurid  clouds  was  veiled, 
The  friendly  lights  of  heaven  were  paled; 
And,  fiercely  gleaming,  fiery  Mars 
Opposed  the  beams  of  gentler  stars. 

Then  Rama's  eyes  with  fury  blazed 
As  Indra's  heavenly  spear  he  raised. 
Loud  rang  the  bells  :  the  glistering  head 
Bright  flashes  through  the  region  shed. 
Down  came  the  spear  in  swift  descent : 
The  giant's  lance  was  crushed  and  bent. 
Then  Ravan's  horses  brave  and  fleet 
Fell  dead  beneath  his  arrowy  sleet. 
Fierce  on  his  foeman  R&ma  pressed, 
And  gored  with  shafts  his  mighty  breast, 
And  spouting  streams  of  crimson  dyed 
The  weary  giant's  limbs  and  side.1 


CANTO  CVI. 


GLORY  TO  THE  SUN. 


There  faint  and  bleeding  fast,  apart 

Stood  Ravan  raging  in  his  heart. 

Then,  moved  with  ruth  for  Rama's  sake, 

Agastva*  came  and  gently  spake  : 

*Bend,  Rama,  bend  thy  heart  and  ear 

The  everlasting  truth  to  hear 

Which  all  thy  hopes  through  life  will  blesa 

And  crown  thine  arms  with  full  success. 

The  rising  sun  with  golden  rays, 

Light  of  the  worlds,  adore  and  praise  ; 

The  universal  king,  the  lord 

By  hosts  of  heaven  and  fiends  adored. 

He  tempers  all  with  soft  control : 

He  is  the  Gods'  diviner  soul  ; 

And  Gods  above  and  fiends  below 

And  men  to  him  their  safety  owe. 

He  Brahma,  Vishnu,  &va,  he 

Each  person  of  the  glorious  Three, 

Is  every  God  whose  praise  we  tell, 

The  King  of  Heaven,3  the  Lord  of  Hell:4 

Each  God  revered  from  times  of  old, 

The  Lord  of  War,6  the  King  of  Gold:6 


1  I  omit  Cantos  CIV.  and  0V.  in  which 
the  fight  is  renewed  and  Ravan  severely 
reprimands  his  charioteer  for  timidity  and 
want  of  confidence  in  his  master's  prowess, 
and  orders  him  to  charge  straight  at  Rama 
on  the  next  occasion. 

2  I  he    celebrated    saint    who    has    on 
former  occasions  assisted  .Rama  with  his 
gifts  and  counsel. 

3  Indra. 

4  Yama. 

*  Karttikeya, 


490 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


Book  VL 


Mahendra,  Time  and  Death  is  he, 
The  Moon,  the  Ruler  of  the  Sea.1 
He  hears  our  praise  in  every  form, — 
The  manes,2  Gods  who  ride  the  storm,3 
The  Asvins,4  Manu,5  they  who  stand 
Round  Indra,6  and  the  Sadhyas'?  band 
He  is  the  air,  and  life  and  fire, 
The  universal  source  and  sire  : 
He  brings  the  seasons  at  his  call, 
Creator,  light,  and  nurse  of  all, 
His  heavenly  course  he  joys  to  run, 
Maker  of  Day,  the  golden  sun, 
The  steeds  that  whirl  his  car  are  seven,8 
The   flaming  steeds  that  flash  through 

heaven. 

Lord  of  the  sky,  the  conqueror  parts 
The  clouds  of  night  with  glistering  darts. 
He,  master  of  the  Vedas'  lore, 
Commands  the  clouds'  collected  store  : 
He  is  the  rivers'  surest  friend  ; 
He  bids  the  rains,  and  they  descend. 
Stars,  planets,  constellations  own 
Their  monarch  of  the  golden  throne. 
Lord  of  twelve  forms,9  to  thee  I  bow, 
Most  glorious  King  of  heaven  art  thou. 
O  Rama,  he  who  pays  aright 
Due  worship  to  the  Lord  of  Light 
Shall  never  fall  oppressed  by  ill, 
But  find  a  stay  and  comfort  still. 
Adore  with  all  thy  heart  and  mind 
This  God  of  Gods,  to  him  resigned  ; 
Arid  thou  his  saving  power  shalt  know 
Victorious  o'er  thy  giant  foe.'1  ° 

1  Varun. 

2  The  Pitris,  forefathers  or  spirits  of  the 
dead,  are  of  two  kinds,  either  the  spirits 
of  the  father,  grandfathers    and    great- 
grandfathers of  an  individual  or  the  pro- 
genitors of  mankind  generally,  to  both  of 
•whom  obsequial  worship  is  paid  and  ob- 
lations of  food  are  presented. 

3  The  Maruts  or  Storm-Gods. 

4  The  Heavenly  Twins,  the  Castor  and 
Pollux  of  the  Hindus. 

5  The  Man  par  excellence,  the  represen* 
tative  man  and  father  of  the  human  race 
regarded  also  as  God. 

6  The  Vasus,  a  class  of  deities  original- 
ly personifications  of  natural  phenomena. 

7  A  class  of  celestial  beings  who  dwell 
between  the  earth  and  the  sun. 

*  The  seven  horses  are  supposed  to  sym- 
bolize the  seven  days  of  the  week. 

9  One  for  each  month  in  the  year. 
1  °  This  Canto   does  not  appear  in  the  I 
Bengal  recension.    It  comes  in  awkwardly 
and  may  I  think  be  considered  as  an  in-  \ 


CANTO  CVIII. 


THE  BATTLE. 


He  spoke,  and  vanished  :  Rama  raised 
His  eyes  with  reverence  meet,  and  praised 
The  glorious  Day-God  full  in  view  : 
Then  armed  him  for  the  fight  anew. 
Urged  onward  by  his  charioteer 
The  giant's  foaming  steeds  came  near, 
And  furious  was  the  battle's  din 
Where  each  resolved  to  die  or  win. 
The  Rakshas  host  and  Vanar  bands 
Stood  with  their  weapons  in  their  hands, 
And  watched  in  terror  and  dismay 
The  fortune  of  the  awful  fray. 
The  giant  chief  with  rage  inflamed 
His  darts  atRiima's  pennon  aimed  ; 
But  when  they  touched  the  chariot  made 
Hy  heavenly  hands  their  force  was  stayed. 
Then  Rama's  breast  with  fury  swelled  ; 
He  strained  the  mighty  bow  he  held, 
And  straight  at  Ravan's  banner  flew 
An  arrow  as  the  string*  he  drew — 
A  deadly  arrow  swift  of  flight, 
Like  some  huge  snake  ablaze  with  light, 
Whose  fury  none  might  e'er  repel, — 
And,  split  in  twain,  the  standard  fell. 
At  Rama's  steeds  sharp  arrows,  hot 
With  flames  of  fire,  the  giant  shot. 
Unmoved  the  heavenly  steeds  sustained 
The  furious  shower  the  warrior  rained, 
As  thdugh  soft  lotus  tendrils  smote 
Each  haughty  crest  and  glossy  coat. 
Then  volleyed  swift  by  magic  art, 
Tree,  mountain  peak  and  spear  and  dart, 
Trident  and  pike  and  club  and  mace 
Flew  hurtling  straight  at  Kama's  face. 
But  Rama  with  his  steeds  and  car 
K scaped  the  storm  which  fell  afar 
Where  the  strange  missiles,  as  they  rushed 
To  earth,  a  thousand  Vanars  crushed. 


terpolation,  but  I  paraphrase  a  portion  of 
it  as  a  relief  after  so  much  fighting  and 
carnage,  and  as  an  interesting  glimpse  of 
the  monotheistic  ideas  which  underlie 
the  Hindu  religion.  The  hymn  does  not 
readily  lend  itself  to  metrical  translation, 
and  1  have  not  attempted  here  to  give  a 
faithf  ul  rendering  of  the  whole.  A  literal 
version  of  the  text  and  the  commentary 
given  in  the  Calcutta  edition  will  be  found 
in  the  Additional  Notes. 

A  canto  is  here  omitted.  It  contains 
fighting  of  the  ordinary  kind  between 
Kama  and  IRavan,  and  a  description  of 
sights  and  soimds'of  evil  omen  foreboding 
the  destruction  of  the  giant. 


Canto  CXI. 


THE  R&MAYAN. 


491 


CANTO  CIX. 


THE  BATTLE. 

,Vith  wondrous  power  and  might  and  skil 
The  giant  fought  with  Rama  still. 
Each  at  his  foe  his  chariot  drove. 
And  still  for  death  or  victory  strove. 
The  warriors'  steeds  together  dashed, 
And  pole  with  pole  reechoing  clashed. 
Then  Rama  launching  dart  on  dart 
Made  Ravan's  coursers  swerve  and  start. 
Nor  was  the  lord  of  Lanka  slow 
To  rain  his  arrows  on  the  foe, 
Who  showed,  by  fiery  points  assailed, 
No  trace  of  pain,  nor  shook  nor  quailed. 
Dense  clouds  of  arrows  Kama  shot 
With  that  strong  arm  which  rested  not, 
And  spear  and  mace  and  club  and  brand 
Fell  in  dire  rain  from  Ravan's  hand. 
The  storm  of  missiles  fiercely  cast 
Stirred  up  the  oceans  with  its  blast, 
And  Serpent-Gods  and  fiends  who  dwell 
Below  were  troubled  by  the  swell. 
The  earth  with  hill  and  plain  and  brook 
And  grove  and  garden  reeled  and  shook: 
The  very  sun  grew  cold  and  pale, 
And  horror  stiled  the  rising  gale. 
God  and  Gandharva,  sage  and  saint 
Cried  out,  with  grief  and  terror  faint  : 
O  may  the  prince  of  Raghu'  line 
Give  peace  to  Brahmans  and  to  kine, 
And,  rescuing  the  worlds,  o'erthrow 
The  giant  king  our  awful  foe.' 

Then  to  his  deadly  string  the  pride 
Of  Raghu's  race  a  shaft  applied. 
Sharp  as  a  serpent's  veuomed  fang 
Straight  to  its  mark  the  arrow  sprang, 
And  from  the  giant's  body  shred 
With  trenchant  steel  the  monstrous  head. 
There  might  the  triple  world  behold 
That  severed  head  adorned  with  gold. 
But  when  all  eyes  were  bent  to  view, 
Swift  in  its  stead  another  grew. 
Again  the  shaft  was  pointed  well : 
Again  the  head  divided  fell ; 
But  still  as  each  to  earth  was  cast 
Another  head  succeeded  fast. 
A  hundred,  bright  with  fiery  flame, 
Fell  low  before  the  victor's  aim, 
Yet  Ravan  by  no  sign  betrayed 
That  death  was  near  or  strength  decayed. 
The  doubtful  fight  he  still  maintained, 
And  on  the  foe  his  missiles  rained. 
In  air,  on  earth,  on  plain,  on  hill, 
With  awful  might  he  battled  still ; 
And  through  the  hours  of  night  and  day 
The  conflict  knew  no  pause  or  stay. 


CANTO  CX. 


RAVAN'S  DEATH. 

Then  Matali  to  Rama  cried : 
4  Let  other  arms  the  day  decide. 
Why  wilt  thou  strive  with  useless  toil 
And  see  his  might  thy  efforts  foil  ? 
Launch  at  the  foe  thy  dart  whose  fire 
Was  kindled  by  the  Almighty  Sire.' 
He  ceased  :  and  Raghu's  son  obeyed  : 
Upon  his  string  the  hero  laid 
An  arrow,  like  a  snake  that  hissed. 
Whose  fiery  flight  had  never  missed  : 
The  arrow  Saint  Agastya  gave 
And  blessed  the  chieftain's  life  to  save: 
That  dart  the  Eternal  Father  made 
The  Monarch  of  the  Gods  to  aid  ; 
By  Brahma's  self  on  him  bestowed 
When  forth  to  fight  Lord  Indra  rode. 
'  Twas  feathered  with  the  rushing  wind  • 
The  glowing  sun  and  fire  combined 
To  the  keen  point  their  splendour  lent ; 
The  shaft,  ethereal  element, 
By  Meru's  hill  and  Mandar,  pride 
Of  mountains,  had  its  weight  supplied. 
He  laid  it  on  the  twisted  cord, 
He  turned  the  point  at  Lanka's  lord, 
And  swift  the  limb-dividing  dart 
Pierced  the  huge  chest  and  cleft  the  heart 
And  dead  he  fell  upon  the  plain 
Like  Vritra  by  the  Thunderer  slain, 
The  Rakshas  host  when  R&van  fell 
Sent  forth  a  wild  terrific  yell, 
Then  turned  and  fled,  all  hope  resigned, 
Through  Lanka's  gates,  nor  looked  behind* 
His  voice  each  joyous  Vanar  raised, 
And  Rama,  conquering  Rama,  praised. 
Soft  from  celestial  minstrels  came 
The  sound  of  music  and  acclaim. 
Soft,  fresh,  and  cool,  a  rising  breeze 
Brought  odours  from  the  heavenly  trees, 
And  ravishing  the  sight  and  smell 
A  wondrous  rain  of  blossoms  fell : 
And  voices  breathed  round  Raghu's  son: 
Champion  of  Gods,  well  done,  well  done.' 

CANTO  CXI. 
VIBHrSHAN'S  LAMENT. 

Vibhishan  saw  his  brother  slain, 
tfor  could  his  heart  its  woe  contain. 
O'er  the  dead  king  he  sadly  bent 
And  mourned  him  with  a  loud  lament: 
O  hero,  bold  and  brave,'  he  cried, 
Skilled  in  all  arms,  in  battle  tried, 
>poiled  of  thy  crown,  with  limbs  outspreadg 


492 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Book  VI. 


Why  wilt  thou  press  thy  gory  bed  ? 
Why  slumber  on  the  earth's  cold  breast, 
When  sumptuous  couches  woo  to  rest  ? 
Ah  me,  my  brother  over  bold, 
Thine  is  the  fate  my  heart  foretold  : 
But  love  and  pride  "forbade  to  hear 
The  friend  who  blamed  thy  wild  career. 
Fallen  is  the  sun  who  gave  us  light, 
Our  lordly  moon  is  veiled  in  night. 
Our  beacon  fire  is  dead  and  cold  : 
A  hundred  waves  have  o'er  it  rolled. 
What  could  hi«*  light  and  fire  avail 
Against  Lord  llama's  arrowy  hail  ? 
Woe  for  the  giants'  royal  tree, 
Whose  stately  height  was  fair  to  see. 
His  buds  were  deeds  of  kingly  grace, 
His  bloom  the  sons  who  decked  his  race. 
With  rifled  bloom  and  mangled  bough 
The  royal  tree  lies  prostrate  now.' 
'  Nay,  idly  mourn  not,'  Rama  cried, 
4  The  warrior  king  has  nobly  died, 
Interpid  hero,  firm  through  all, 
So  fell  he  as  the  brave  should  fall ; 
And  ill  beseems  it  chiefs  like  us 
To  weep  for  those  who  perish  thus. 
Be  firm  :  thy  causeless  grief  restrain, 
And  pay  the  dues  that  yet  remain.' 

Again  Vibhishan  sadly  spoke : 
*  His  was  the  hero 'arm  that  broke 
Embattled  Gods'  and  Indra's  might, 
Unconquered  ere  to-day  in  fight. 
He  rushed  against  the'e,  fought  and  fell. 
As  Ocean,  when  his  waters  swell, 
Hurling  his  might  against  a  rock, 
Falls  spent  and  shattered  by  the  shock 
Woe  for  our  king's  untimely  end, 
The  generous  lord  the  trusty  friend  : 
Our  sure  defence  when  fear  arose, 
A  dreaded  scourge  to  stubborn  foes. 
O,  let  the  king  thy  hand  has  slain 
The  honours  of  the  dead  obtain.' 

Then  Rania  answered.    '  Hatred  dies 
When  low  in  dust  the  foeman  lies. 
Now  triumph  bids  the  conflict  cease, 
And  knits  us  in  the  bonds  of  peace. 
Let  funeral  rites  be  duly  paid. 
And  be  it  mine  thy  toil  to  aid.' 

CANTO  CXII. 


THE  RAKSHAS  DAMES. 

High  rose  the  universal  wail 

That  mourned  the  monarch's  death,  and, 

pale 

With  crushing  woe,  her  hair  unbound, 
Her  eyes  in  floods  of  sorrow  drowned, 
Forth  from  the  inner  chambers  came 
With  trembling  feet  each  royal  dame. 
Heedless  of  those  who  bade  them  stay 


There  falling  by  their  husband's  side, 

1  Ah,  King  !  ah  dearest  lord ! '  they  cried. 

Like  creepers  shattered  by  the  storm 

They  threw  them  on  his  mangled  form. 

One  to  his  bleeding  bosom  crept 

And  lifted  up  her  voice  and  wept. 

About  his  feet  one  mourner  clung. 

Around  his  neck  another  hung. 

One  on  the  giant's  severed  head. 

Her  pearly  tears  in  torrents  shed 

Fast  as  the  drops  the  summer  shower 

Pours  down  upon  the  lotus  flower. 

'  Ah,  he  whose  arm  in  anger  reared 

The  King  of  Gods  and  Yama  feared. 

While  panic  struck  their  heavenly  train, 

Lies  prostrate  in  the  battle  slain. 

Thy  haughty  heart  thou  wouldst  not  bend, 

Nor  listen  to  each  wiser  friend. 

Ah,  had  the  dame,  as  they  implored, 

Been  yielded  to  her  injured  lord, 

We  had  not  mourned  this  day  thy  fall, 

And  happy  had  it  been  for  all. 

Then  Rama  and  thy  friends  content 

In  blissful  peace  their  days  had  spent. 

Thine  injured  brother  had  not  fled. 

Nor  giant  chiefs  and  Vanars  bled* 

Yet  for  these  woes  we  will  not  blame. 

Thy  fancy  for  the  Maithil  dame, 

Fate,  ruthless  Fate,  whom  none  may  bend 

Has  urged  thee  to  thy  hapless  end.'" 

CANTO  CXIII. 
MANDODARI'S  LAMENT. 

While  thus  they  wept,  supreme  in  place, 
The  loveliest  for  form  and  face, 
Mandodari  drew  near  alone, 
Looked  on  her  lord  and  made  her  moan : 
4  Ah  Monarch,  Indra  feared  to  stand 
In  fight  before  thy  conquering  hand. 
From  thy  dread  spear  the  Immortals  ran ; 
And  art  thou  murdered  by  a  man  ? 
Ah,  'twas  no  child  of  earth,  I  know, 
That  smote  thee  with  that  mortal  blow. 
'Twas  Death  himself  in  Rama's  shape, 
That  slew  thee  :  Death  whom  none  escape. 
Or  was  it  he  who  rules  the  skies 
Who  met  thee,  clothed  in  man's  disguise  ? 
Ah  no,  my  lord,  not  Indra  :  he 
In  battle  ne'er  could  look  on  thee. 
One  only  God  thy  match  I  deem  : 
'  '"was  Vishnu's  self,  the  Lord  Supreme, 
Whose  da)  s  through  ceaseless  time  extend 
And  ne'er  began  and  ne'er  shall  end  ; 
He  with  the  discus,  shell,  and  mace, 
Brought  ruin  on  the  giant  race. 
Girt  by  the  Gods  of  heavon  arrayed 
Like  Vanar  hosts  his  strength  to  aid, 


Canto 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


493 


And  slew  the  king  whom  Fate  had  doomed. 

iLjanasthan  when  Kharadied 

W'th  giant  legions  by  his  side, 

JJo mortal  was  the  unconquered  foe 

In  Kama's  form  who  struck  the  blow. 

Whin  Hanurnan  the  Vanar  came 

And  burnt  thy  town  with  hostile  flame, 

I  counselled  peace  in  anxious  fear  : 

I  compelled,  hut  thou  wouldst  not  hear. 

Thy  fmcy  for  the  foreign  dame 

Has  brought  thee  death  and  endless  shame. 

Why  slould  thy  foolish  fancy  roam  ? 

Hadst  tiou  not  wives  as  fair  at  home  ? 

In  beauty,  form  and  grace  could  she, 

Dear  lord,  surpass  or  rival  me? 

Now  will  the  aays  of  iSita  glide 

In  tranquil  joy  by  Rama's  side: 

And  I — ab  me,  around  me  raves 

A  sea  of  woe  with  whelming  waves. 

With  thee  'n  days  of  old  1  trod 

Each  spot  leloved  by  nymph  and  God  ; 

I  stood  with  thee  in  proud  delight 

On  Mandar's  side  and  Meru's  height ; 

With  thee.  n\y  lord,  enchanted  strayed 

In  ChaitrarathaV  lovely  shade, 

And  viewed  each  fairest  scene  afar 

Transported  in  thy  radiant  car. 

But  source  of  every  joy  wast  thou, 

And  all  my  bliss  is  ended  now. 

Then  Rama  to  Vibhishan  cried  ; 
'  Whate'er  the  ritual  bids,  provide. 
Obsequial  honours  duly  pay, 
And  these  sad  mourners1  grief  allay, 
Vibhishan  answered,  wise  and  true. 
For  duty's  changeless  law  he  knew : 
'  Nay  one  who  scorned  all  sacred  vows 
And  dared  to  touch  another's  spouse, 
Fell  tyrant  of  the  human  race, 
With  funeral  rites  I  may  not  grace.' 

Him  Raghu's  royal  son,  the  best 
Of  those  who  love  the  law,  addressed  : 
*  False  was  the  rover  of  the  night, 
He  loved  the  wrong  arid  scorned  the  right. 
Yet  for  the  fallen  warrior  plead 
The  dauntless  heart,  the  valorous  deed. 
Let  him  who  ne'er  had  brooked  defeat, 
The  chief  whom  Indra  feared  to  meet, 
The  ever-conquering  lord,  obtain 
The  honours  that  should  grace  the  slain,' 
Vibhishan  bade  his  friends  prepare 
The  funeral  rites  with  thoughtful  care. 
Himself  the  royal  palace  sought 
Whence  sacred  fire  was  quickly  brought, 
With  sandal  wood  and  precious  scents 
And  pearl  and  coral  ornaments. 
Wise  Brahman s,    while  the    tears    that 

flowed 
Down  their  wan  cheeks  their  sorrow  sowed, 

1  The  garden  of  Kuvera,  the  God  of 
Riches, 


Upon  a  golden  litter  laid 
The  corpse  in  finest  ropes  arrayed. 
Thereon  were  flowers  and  pennons  hung. 
And  loud  the  monarch's  praise  was  sung. 
Then  was  the  golden  litter  raised, 
While  holy  fire  in  order  blazed. 
And  first  in  place  Vibhishan  led 
The  slow  procession  of  the  dead. 
Behind,  their  cheeks  with  tears  bedewed, 
Came  sad  the  widowed  multitude. 
Where,  raised  as  Brahmans  ordered,  stood 
Piled  sandal  logs,  and  scented  wood, 
The  body  of  the  king  was  set 
High  on  a  deerskin  coverlet. 
Then  duly  to  the  monarch's  shade 
The  offerings  for  the  dead  they  paid, 
And  southward  on  the  eastern  side 
An  altar  formed  and  lire  supplied. 
Then  on  the  shoulder  of  the  dead 
The  oil  and  clotted  milk  were  shed. 
All  rites  were  done  as  rules  ordain  : 
The  sacrificial  goat  was  slain. 
Next  on  the  corpse  were  perfumes  thrown 
And  many  a  flowery  wreath  was  strown ; 
And  with  Vibhishan's  ready  aid 
Rich  vesture  o'er  the  king  was  laid. 
Then  while  the  tears  their  cheeks  bedewed 
Parched  grain  upon  the  dead  they  strewed; 
Last,  to  the  wood,  as  rules  require, 
Vibhishan  set  the  kindling  fire. 

Then  having  bathed,  as  texts  ordain, 
To  Lanka  went  the  mourning  train. 
Vibhishan,  when  his  task  was  done, 
Stood  by 'the  side  of  Kaghu's  sou. 
And  Rama,  freed  from  every  foe, 
Unstrung  at  last  his  deadly  bow, 
And  laid  the  glittering  shafts  aside, 
And  mail  by  Indra's  love  supplied. 

CANTO  CXIV. 
VIBHTSHAN  CONSECRATED. 

Joy  reigned  in  heaven  where  every  eye 
Had  seen  the  Lord  of  Lanka  die. 
In  cars  whose  sheen  surpassed  the  sun'8 
Triumphant  rode  the  radiant  ones  ; 
And  Ravan's  death,  by  every  tongue, 
And  Rama's  glorious  deeds  were  sung. 
They  praised  the  Vanars  true  and  brave, 
The  counsel  wise  Sugriva  gave. 
The  deeds  of  Hanuman  they  told, 
The  valiant  chief  supremety  bold, 
The  strong  ally,  the  faithful  friend. 
And  Sita's  truth  which  naught  could  bend, 

To  Matali,  whom  Indra  sent, 
His  head  the  son  of  Raghu  bent: 
And  be  with  fiery  steeds  who  clove 
The  clouds  again  to  Swarga  drove. 


494 


TEE  RAMAYAN. 


JSook  VI 


Bound  King  Sugriva  brave  and  true 
His  arms  in  rapture»R£ma  threw, 
Looked  on  the  host  with  joy  and  pride, 
And  thus  to  noble  Lakshman  cried  : 

'  Now  let  king-making  drops  be  shed, 
Dear  brother,  on  Vibhishan's  head 
For  truth  and  friendship  nobly  shown, 
And  make  him  lord  of  Ravan's  throne.' 
This  longing  of  his  heart  he  told  : 
And  Lakshman  took  an  urn  of  gold 
And  bade  the  wind -fleet  Vanars  bring 
fcea  water  for  the  giants'  king. 
The  brimming  urn  was  swiftly  brought: 
Then  on  a  throne  superbly  wrought 
Vibhishan  sat,  the  giants'  lord, 
And  o'er  his  brows  the  drops  were  poured, 
As  Baghu's  son  the  rite  beheld 
His  loving  heart  with  rapture  swelled  : 
But  tenderer  thoughts  within  him  woke, 
And  thus  to  Hanuman  he  spoke  : 

'  Go  to  my  queen  :  this  message  give  : 
Say  Lakshman  and  Sugriva  live. 
The  death  of  Lanka's  monarch  tell, 
And  bid  her  joy,  for  all  is  well.1 

CANTO  CXV. 
SITA'S  JOY. 

The  Vanar  chieftain  bowed  his  head, 
Within  the  walls  of  Lanka  sped, 
Leave  from  the  new-made  king  obtained, 
And  Sita's  lovely  garden  gained. 
Beneath  a  tree  the  queen  he  found, 
Where  Rakshas  warders  watched  around 
Her  pallid  cheek,  her  tangled  hair, 
Her  raiment  showed  her  deep  despair. 
Near  and  more  near  the  envoy  came 
And  gently  hailed  the  weeping  dame. 
She  started  up  in  sweet  surprise, 
And  sudden  joy  illumed  her  eyes. 
For  well  the  Vanar's  voice  she  knew, 
And  hope  reviving  sprang  and  grew. 

'  Fair  Queen,'  he  said,  '  our  task  is  done  : 
The  foe  is  slain  and  Lanka  won. 
Triumphant  mid  triumphant  friends 
Kind  words  of  greeting  Bama  sends. 
'  Blest  for  thy  sake,  O  spouse  most  true, 
My  deadly  foe  I  met  and  slew. 
Mine  eyes  are  strangers  yet  to  sleep: 
I  built  a  bridge  athwart  the  deep 
And  crossed  the  sea  to  Lank^s  shore 
To  keep  the  mighty  oath  I  swore. 
.  Now,  gentle  love,  thy  cares  dispel, 
And  weep  no  more,  for  attifr-well. 
Fear  not  in  Bavan's  house  to  stay, 
For  good  Vibhishan  now  bears  sway, 
For  constant  truth  and  friendship  known  : 


Begard  his  palace  as  thine  own.' 

He  greets  thee  thus  thy  heart  to  cheer 

Ana  urged  by  love  will  soon  be  here.' 

Then  flushed  with  joy  the  lady's  cleek, 
Her  eyes  o'erfiWed,  her  voice  was  weak  ; 
But  struggling  with  her  sobs  she  broke 
Her  silence  thus,  and  faintly  spoke. 
*  So  fast  the  flood  of  rapture  came, 
My  trembling  tongue  no  words  coulcJf  rame, 
Ne'er  have  I  heard  in  days  of  blisa 
A  tale  that  gave  such  joy  as  this. 
More  precious  far  than  gems  ana  gold 
Tfoe  message  which  thy  lips  hav«  told.' 

His  reverent  hands  the  Vanarraised 
And  thus  the  lady's  answer  prased  : 
'Sweet  are  the  words,  O  Queen,  vhichthou 
True  to  thy  lord,  hast  spoken  row, 
Better  than  gems  and  pearls  of  price, 
Yea,  or  the  throne  of  Paradise. 
But,  lady,  ere  I  leave  this  pla«e, 
Grant  me,  I  pray,  a  single  gnce. 
Permit  me,  and  this  vengeful  hand 
Shall  slay  thy  guards,  this  Eakshas  band, 
Whose  cruel  insult  threat  aid  scorn 
Thy  gentle  soul  too  long  has  borne.' 

Thus,  stern  of  mood,  Hanuman  cried  : 
The  Maithil  lady  thus  replied  : 
'  Nay,  be  not  wroth  with  servants  :  they, 
When  monarchs  bid  must  needs  obey, 
And,  vassals  of  their  lords,  fulfil 
Each  fancy  of  their  sovereign  will. 
To  mine  own  sins  the  blame  impute, 
For  as  we  sow  we  reap  the  fruit. 
The  tyrant's  will  these  dames  obeyed 
When   their  fierce  threats  my  soul    dis- 
mayed,' 

She  ceased  :  with  admiration  moved 
The  Vanar  chief  her  words  approved  : 
'  Thy  speech,'  he  cried,  '  is  worthy  one 
Whom  love  has  linked  to  Kaghu's  son. 
Now  speak,  O  Queen,  that  I  may  know 
Thy  pleasure,  for  to  him  I  go.' 
The  Vanar  ceased  :  then  Janak's  child 
Made  answer  as  she  sweetly  smiled : 
*  My  first,  my  only  wish  can  be, 
O  chief,  my  loving  lord  to  see.' 
Again  the  Vanar  envoy  spoke, 
And  with  his  words  new  rapture  woke  : 
'Queen,  ere  this  sun  shall  cease  to  shine 
Thy  Rama's  eyes  shall  look  in  thine. 
Again  the  lord  of  Kaghu's  race 
Shall  turn  to  thee  his  moon-bright  face. 
His  faithful  brother  shall  thou  see 
And  every  friend  who  fought  for  thee. 
And  greet  once  more  thy  king  restored 
Like  £achi l  to  her  heavenly  lord.' 
To  Baghu's  son  his  steps  he  bent 
And  told  the  message  that  she  sent. 


The  consort  of  Indra, 


Canto  CXVfL 


THE  RAM  A  VAN. 


495 


CANTO  CXVI. 


THE   MEETING. 

He  looked  upon  that  archer  chief 
Whose  full  eye  mocked  the  lotus  leaf, 
And  thus  the  noble  Vanar  spake  : 
1  Now  meet  the  queen  for  whose  dear  sake 
Thy  mighty  task  was  first  begun, 
And  now  the  glorious  fruit  is  won. 
Overwhelmed  with  woe  thy  lady  lies, 
The  hot  tears  streaming  from  her  eyes. 
And  still  the  queen  must  long  and  pine 
Until  those  eyes  be  turned  to  thine.' 

But  Rama  stood  in  pensive  mood, 
And  gathering  tears  his  eyes  bedewed. 
His  sad  looks  sought  the  ground :  he  sighed 
And  thus  to  King  Vibhishan  cried  : 
'  Let  Sita  bathe  and  tire  her  head 
And  hither  to  my  sight  be  led 
In  raiment  sweet  with  precious  scent, 
And  gay  with  golden  ornament.' 

The  Rakshas  king  his  palace  sought, 
And  Sita  from  her  bower  was  brought. 
Then  Rakshas  bearers  tall  and  strong, 
Selected  from  the  menial  throng, 
Through  Lanka's  gate  the  queen,  arrayed 
lu  glorious  robes  and  gems,  conveyed. 
[Concealed  behind  the  silken  screen, 
Swift  to  the  plain  they  bore  the  queen, 
While  Vanars,  close  on  every  side, 
With  eager  looks  the  litter  eyed. 
The  warders  at  Vibhiahan's  best 
The  onward  rushing  throng  repressed, 
While  like  the  roar  of  ocean  loud 
Rose  the  wild  murmur  of  the  crowd. 
The  son  of  Raghu  saw  and  moved 
With  anger  thus  the  king  reproved  : 
*  Why  vex  with  hasty  blow  and  threat 
The  Vanars,  and  my  rights  forget  ? 
Repress  this  zeal,  untimely  shown: 
I  count  this  people  as  mine  own. 
A  woman's  guard  is  not  her  bower, 
The  lofty  wall,  the  fenced  tower  : 
Her  conduct  is  her  best  defence, 
And  not  a  king's  magnificence. 
At  holy  rites,  in  war  and  woe, 
Her  face  unveiled  a  dame  may  show; 
When  at  the  Maiden's  Choice  J  they  meet, 
When  marriage  troops  parade  the  street. 
And  she,  my  queen,  who  long  has  lain 


1  The  Swayamvara,  Self-choice  or  elec- 
tion of  a  husband  by  a  princess  or  daughter 
of  a  Kshatriya  at  a  public  assembly  of 
Euitors  held  for  the  purpose.  For  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  ceremony  see  Nala  and  Bama- 
yanti  an  episode  of  the  Mahabharat  trans- 
lated by  the  late  Dean  Milman,  and  Idylls 
from  the  Santkritt 


In  prison  racked  with  care  and  pain, 
May  cease  a  while  her  face  to  hide, 
For  is  not  Rama  by  her  side  ? 
Lay  down  the  litter  :  on  her  feet 
Let  Sita  come  her  lord  to  meet, 
And  let  the  hosts  of  woodland  race 
Look  near  upon  the  lady's  face.' 

Then  Lakshman  and  each  Vanar  chief 
Who  heard  his  words  were  filled  with  grief. 
The  lady's  gentle  spirit  sank, 
And  from  each  eye  in  fear  she  shrank, 
As,  her  sweet  eyelids  vailed  for  shame, 
Slowly  before  her  lord  she  came. 
While  rapture  battled  with  surprise 
She  raised  to  his  her  wistful  eyes. 
Then  with  her  doubt  and  fear  she  strove, 
And  from  her  breast  all  sorrow  drove. 
Regardless  of  the  gathering  crowd, 
Bright  as  the  moon  without  a  cloud, 
She  bent  her  eyes,  no  longer  dim. 
Ill  joy  and  trusting  love  OQ  him, 

CANTO  CXVII. 

SITA'S  DISGRACE. 

He  saw  her  trembling  by  his  side, 

And  looked  upon  her  face  and  cried  : 

1  Lady,  at  length  my  task  is  done, 

And  thou,  the  prize  of  war,  art,  won, 

This  arm  my  glory  has  retrieved, 

And  all  that  man  might  do  achieved  ; 

The  insulting  foe  in  battle  slain 

And  cleared  mine  honour  from  its  stain. 

This  day  has  made  my  name  renowned 

And  with  success  my  labour  crowned. 

Lord  of  myself,  the  oath  I  swore 

Is  binding  on  my  soul  no  more. 

If  from  my  home  my  queen  was  reft, 

This  arm  has  well  avenged  the  theft, 

And  in  the  field  has  wiped  away 

The  blot  that  on  mine  honour  lay. 

The  bridge  that  spans  the  foaming  flood, 

The  city  red  with  giants'  blood  ; 

The  hosts  by  King  Sugriva  led 

Who  wisely  counselled,  fought  and  bled  ; 

Vibhishan's  love,  our  guide  and  stay — 

All  these  are  crowned  with  fruit  to-day. 

But,  lady,  'twas  not  love  for  thee 

That  led  mine  army  o'er  the  sea. 

'Twas  not  for  thee  our  blood  was  shed, 

Or  Lanka  filled  with  giant  dead. 

No  fond  affection  for  my  wife 

Inspired  me  in  the  hour  of  strife. 

I  battled  to  avenge  the  cause 

Of  honour  and  insulted  laws. 

My  love  is  fled,  for  on  thy  fame 

Lies  the  dark  blot  of  sin  and  shame  ; 

And  thou-art  hateful  as  the  light 


496 


TEE  RAMAYAN. 


Boole  T 


That  flashes  on  the  injured  eight. 
The  world  is  all  before  thee  :  flee  : 
Go  where  thou  wilt,  but  not  with  me. 
How  should  my  home  receive  again 
A  mistress  soiled  with  deathless  stain? 
How  should  I  brook  the  foul  disgrace, 
Scorned  by  my  friends  and  all  my  race  ? 
For  Ravan  bore  thee  through  the  sky, 
And  fixed  on  thine  his  evil  eye. 
About  thy  waist  his  arms  he  threw, 
Close  to  his  breast  his  captive  drew, 
And  kept  thee,  vassal  of  his  power, 
An  inmate  of  his  ladies'  bower.' 


CANTO  CXVIII. 


SITA'S  REPLY. 

Struck  down  with  overwhelming  shame 
She  shrank  within  her  trembling  frame. 
Eacli  word  of  Rama's  like  a  dart 
Had  pierced  the  lady  to  the  heart ; 
And  from  her  sweet  eyes  unrestrained 
The  torrent  of  her  sorrows  rained. 
Her  weeping  eyes  at  length  she  dried, 
And  thus  mid 'choking  sobs  replied: 
•Canst  thou,  a  high-born  prince,  dismiss 
A  high-born  dame  with  speech  like  this  ? 
Such  words  bent  the  meanest  hind, 
Not  princely  birth  and  generous  mind. 
By  all  my  virtuous  life  I  swear 
I  am  not  what  thy  words  declare. 
If  some  are  faithless,  wilt  thou  find 
No  love  and  truth  in  womankind  ? 
Doubt  others  if  thou  wilt,  but  own 
The  truth  which  all  my  life  has  shown. 
If,  when  the  giant  seized  his  prey, 
Within  his  hated  arms  I  lay, 
And  felt  the  grasp  I  dreaded,  blame 
Fate  and  the  robber,  not  thy  dame. 
What  could  a  helpless  woman  do  ? 
My  heart  was  mine  and  still  was  true. 
Why  when  Hanuman  sent  by  thee 
Sought  Lanka's  town  across  the  sea, 
Couldst  thou  not  give,  O  lord  of  men, 
Thy  sentence  of  rejection  then  ? 
Then  in  the  presence  of  the  chief 
Death,  ready  death,  had  brought  relief, 
Nor  had  I  nursed  in  woe  and  pain 
This  lingering  life,  alas  in  vain. 
Then  hadst  thou  shunned  the  fruitless  strife 
Nor  jeopardied  thy  noble  life, 
But  spared  thy  friends  and  bold  allies 
Their  vain  and  weary  enterprise. 
Is  all  forgotten,  all  ?  my  birth, 
Named  Janak's  child,  from  fostering  earth? 
That  day  of  triumph  when  a  maid 
My  trembling  hand  in  thine  I  laid  ? 
My  meek  obedience  to  thy  will, 

Mv  faithful  InvP  thrniKrh'inv  nnrl  ill 


That  never  failed  at  duty's  call— 

0  King,  is  all  forgotten,  all?' 

To  Lakshman  then  she  turned  and  spo 
While  sobs  and  sighs  her  utterance  brok 
*  Sumitra's  son,  a  pile  prepare, 
'My  refuge  in  my  dark  despair. 

1  will  not  live  to* bear  this  weight 
Of  shame,  forlorn  and  desolate. 
The  kindled  fire  my  woes  shall  end 
And  be  my  best  and  surest  friend.' 

His  mournful  eyes  the  hero  raised 
And  wistfully  on  'Rama  gazed, 
In  whose  stern  look  no  ruth  was  seen, 
No  mercy  for  the  weeping  queen. 
No  chieftain  dared  to  meet  those  eyes, 
To  pray,  to  question  or  advise. 

The  word  was  passed,  the  wood  was  pil 
And  fain  to  die  stood  Janak's  child. 
She  slowly  paced  around  her  lord, 
The  Gods  with  reverent  act  adored, 
Then  raising  suppliant  hands  the  dame 
Prayed  humbly  to  the  Lord  of  Flame  ; 
'  As  this  fond  heart  by  virtue  swayed 
From  Raghu's  son  has  never  strayed, 
So,  universal  witness,  Fire 
Protect  my  body  on  the  pyre, 
As  Raghu's  son  has  idly  laid 
This  charge  on  Sita,  hear  and  aid.' 

8he  ceased:  and  fearless  to  the  last 
Withim  the  flame's  wild  fury  passed. 
Then  rose  a  piercing  cry  from  all 
Dames,  children,  men,  who  saw  her  fall 
Adorned  with  gems  and  gay  attire 
Beneath  the  fury  of  the  tire. 


CANTO  CXIX. 


GLORY  TO  VISHNU. 

The  shrill  cry  pierced  through  Rama's  et 
And  his  sad  eyes  o'erflowed  with  tears, 
When  lo,  transported  through  the  sky 
A  glorious  band  of  Gods  was  nigh. 
Ancestral  shades, '  by  men  revered, 
In  venerable  state  appeared, 
And  he  from  whom  all  riches  flow,2 
And  Yama  Lord  who  reigns  below : 
King  Indra,  thousand-eyed,  and  he 
Who  wields  the  sceptre  of  the  sea.3 
The  God  who  shows  the  blazoned,  bull,' 
And  Brahma  Lord  most  bountiful 
By  whose  command  the  worlds  were  ma< 
All  these  on  radiant  cars  conveyed, 

1  The  Pitris  or  Manes,  the  spirits  of  t 
dead. 
*  Kuvera,  the  God  of  Wealth. 

3  Varun,  God  of  the  sea. 

4  Mahadeva  or  giva  whose  ensign  i: 

hull 


CXX. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


497 


Brighter  than  sun-beams,  sought  the  place 
Where  stood  the  prince  of  R-aghu's  race, 
.And  from  their  glittering  seats  the  best 
Of  blessed  Gods  the  chief  addressed  : 
Couldst  thou,  the  Lord  of  all,  couldst 
thou, 

Creator  of  the  worlds,  allow 
Thy  queen,  thy  spouse  to  brave  the  fire 
And  give  her  body  to  the  pyre  ? 
Dost  thou  not  yet,  supremely  wise, 
Thy  heavenly  nature  recognize  2 
They  ceased :  and  Rama  thus  began : 
"I  deem  myself  a  mortal  man. 
Of  old  Ikshvaku's  line,  I  spring 
From  Dasaratha  Kosal's  king.' 
He  ceased  :  and  Brahma's  self  replied  : 
"  ()  cast  the  idle  thought  aside. 
Thou  art  the  Lord  Narayan,  thou 
The  God  to  whom  all  creatures  bow. 
Thou  art  the  saviour  God  who  wore 
Of  old  the' semblance  of  a  boar  ; 
Thou  he  whose  discus  overthrows 
All  present,  past  and  future  foes  ; 
Thou  Brahma,  That  whose  days  extend 
Without  beginning,  growth  or  end  ; 
The  God,  who, 'bears  the  bow  of  horn, 
Whom  four  majestic*  arms  adorn  ; 
Thou  art  the  God  who  rules  the  sense 
And  sways  with  gentle  influence  ; 
Thou  all-pervading  Vishnu  Lord 
Who  wears  the  ever-conquering  sword; 
Thou  art  the  Guide  who  leads  aright, 
Thou  Krishna  of  unequalled  might. 
Thy  hand,  6  Lord,  the  hills  and  plains, 
And  earth  with  all  her  life  sustains ; 
Thou  wilt  appear  in  serpent  form 
When  sinks  the  earth  in  fire  and  storm, 
Queen  Sit£  of  the  lovely  brows 
Is  Lakshmi  thy  celestial  spouse. 
To  free  the  worlds  from  Ravan  thou 
Wouldst  take  the  form  thou  wearest  now. 
Rejoice  :  the  mighty  task  is  done  : 
Rejoice,  thou  great  and  glorious  one. 
The  tyrant,  slain,  thy  labours  end  : 
Triumphant  now  to  heaven  ascend. 
High  bliss  awaits  the  devotee 
Who  clings  in  loving  faith  to  thee, 
Who  celebrates  with  solemn  praise 
The  Lord  of  ne'er  beginning  days. 
On  earth  below,  in  heaven  above 
Great  joy  shall  crown  his  faith  and  love, 
And  he  who  loves  the  tale  divine 
Which  tells  each  glorious  deed  of  thine 
Through  life's  fair  course  shall  never  know 
The  fierce  assault  of  pain  and  woe.'1 


CANTO  CXX, 


SITA  RESTORED. 

Thus  spoke  the  Self -existent  Sire  : 
Then  swiftly  from  the  blazing  pyre 
The  circling  flames  were  back  ward  rolled, 
And,  raising  in  his  gentle  hold 
Alive  unharmed  the  Maithil  dame, 
The  Lord  of  Fire  embodied  came. 
Fair  as  the  morning  was  her  sheen, 
And  gold  and  gems  adorned  the  queen. 
Her  form  in  crimson  robes  arrayed, 
Her  hair  was  bound  in  glossy  braid. 
Her  wreath  was  fresh  and  sweet  of  scent, 
Undimmed  was  every  ornament. 
Then,  standing  close  to  Rama's  side, 
The  universal  witness  cried  : 
'  From  every  blot  and  blemish  free 
Thy  faithful  queen  returns  to  thee. 
In  word  or  deed,  in  look  or  mind 
Her  heart  from  thee  has  ne'er  declined. 
By  force  the  giant  bore  away 
From  thy  lone  cot  his  helpless  prey  ; 
And  in  his  bowers  securely  kept 
She  still  has  longed  for  thee  and  wept. 
With  soft  temptation,  bribe  and  threat, 
He  bade  the  dame  her  love  forget  : 
But,  nobly  faithful  to  her  lord, 
Her  soul  the  giant's  suit  abhorred. 
Receive,  O  King,  thy  queen  again, 
Pure,  ever  pure  from  spot  and  stain/ 

Still  stoocithe  king  in  thoughtful  mood 
And  tears  of  joy  his  eyes  bedewed. 
Then  to  the  best  of  Gods  the  best 
Of  warrior  chiefs  his  mind  expressed  : 

'  'T  was  meet  that  mid  the  thousands  here 
The  searching  fire  my  queen  should  clear; 
For  long  within  the  giant's  bower 
She  dwelt  the  vassal  of  his  power. 
For  else  had  many  a  slanderous  tongue 
Reproaches  on  mine  honour  flung, 
And  scorned  the  king  who,  love-impelled, 
His  consort  from  the  proof  withheld. 
No  doubt  had  I,  but  surely  knew 
That  Janak's  child  was  pure  and  true, 
That,  come  what  might,  in  good  and  ill 
Her  faithful  heart  was  with  me  still. 
I  knew  that  Ravan  could  not  wrong 
My  queen  whom  virtue  made  so  strong. 
I  knew  his  heart  would  sink  and  fail, 
Nor  dare  her  honour  to  assail, 
As  Ocean,  when  he  raves  and  roars, 
Fears  to  o'erleap  his  bounding  shores. 
Now  to  the  worlds  her  truth  is  shown, 
And  Sita  is  again  mine  own. 
Thus  proved  before  unnumbered  eyes, 
On  her  pure  fame  no  shadow  lies. 
As  heroes  to  their  glory  cleave, 


498 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


JBoolc 


He  ceased  t  and  clasped  in  fond  embrace 
On  his  dear  breast  she  hid  her  face, 

CANTO  CXXI. 


DA&ARATHA. 

To  him  Mahesvar  thus  replied  : 
'  O  strong-armed  hero,  lotus-eyed, 
Thou,  best  of  those  who  love  the  right, 
Hast  nobly  fought  the  wondrous  fight. 
Dispelled  by  thee  the  gloom  that  spread 
Through  trembling  earth  and  heaven  is  fled 
The  worlds  exult  in  light  and  bliss, 
And  praise  thy  name,  O  chief,  for  thia. 
Now  peace  to  Bharat's  heart  restore, 
And  bid  Kausalya  weep  no  more. 
Thy  face  let  Queen  Kaikeyi  see, 
Let  fond  Sumitra  gaze  on  thee. 
The  longing  of  thy  friends  relieve, 
The  kingdom  of  thy  sires  receive. 
Let  sons  of  gentle  Sit&  born 
Ikshvaku's  ancient  line  adorn. 
Then  from  all  care  and  foemen  freed 
Perform  the  offering  of  the  steed. 
In  pious  gifts  thy  wealth  expend, 
Then  to  the  home  of  Gods  ascend, 
Thy  sire,  this  glorious  king,  behold. 
Among  the  blest  in  heaven  enrolled. 
He  comes  from  where  the  Immortals  dwell: 
Salute  him,  for  he  loves  thee  well.' 

His  mandate  Ltaghu's  sons  obeyed, 
And  to  their  sire  obeisance  made, 
Where  high  he  stood  above  the  car 
In  wondrous  light  that  shone  afar, 
His  limbs  in  radiant  garments  dressed 
Whereon  no  spot  of  dust  might  rest. 
When  on  the  son  he  loved  so  well 
The  eyes  of  Dasaratha  fell, 
He  strained  the  hero  to  his  breast 
And  thus  with  gentle  words  addressed  : 
*  No  joy  to  me  is  heavenly  bliss, 
For  there  these  eyes  my  Bama  miss, 
Enrolled  on  high  with  saint  and  sage, 
Thy  woes,  dear  son,  my  thoughts  engage. 
Kaikeyi's  guile  I  ne'er  forget : 
Her  cruel  words  will  haunt  me  yet, 
Which  sent  thee  forth,  my  son, 'to  roam 
The  forest  far  from  me  and  home. 
Now  when  I  look  on  each  dear  face, 
And  hold  you  both  in  fond  embrace, 
My  heart  is  full  of  joy  to  see 
The  sons  I  love  from  danger  free. 
Now  know  I  what  the  Gods  designed, 
And  how  in  llama's  form  enshrined 
The  might  of  Purushottam  lay, 
The  tyrant  of  the  worlds  to  slay. 
Ah.  how  Kausalya  will  rejoice 
To  hear  again  her  darling's  voice, 
Aud,  all  thy  weary  wanderings  o'er, 


To  gaze  upon  thy  face  once  more. 
Ah  blest,  for  ever  blest  are  they 
Whose  eyes  shall  see  the  glorious  day 
Of  thy  return  in  joy  at  last, 
Thy  term  of  toil  and  exile  past. 
Ayodhya's  lord,  begin  thy  reign, 
And  day  by  day  new  glory  gain,' 
He  ceased  :  and  Rama  thus  replied  : 

*  Be  not  this  grace,  O  sire,  denied. 
Those  hasty  words,  that  curse  revoke 
Which  from  thy  lips  in  anger  broke  : 
'  Kaikeyi,  be  no  longer  mine  : 

I  cast  thee  off,  both  thee  and  thine.' 
O  father,  let  no  sorrow  fall 
On  her  or  hers  :  thy  curse  recall/ 
'  Yea,  she  shall  live,  if  so  thou  wilt,' 
The  sire  replied,  *  absolved  from  guilt.' 
Bound  Lakshman  then  his  arms  he  thrc 
And  moved  by  love  began  anew  : 
'  Great  store  of  merit  shall  be  thine, 
And  brightly  shall  thy  glory  shine  ; 
Secure  on  earth  thy  brother's  grace, 
And  high  in  heaven  shall  be  thy  place. 
Thy  glorious  king  obey  and  fear  : 
To  him  the  triple  world  is  dear. 
God,  saint,  ana  sage,  by  Indra  led, 
To  Rama  bow  the  reverent  head, 
Nor  from  the  Lord,  the  lofty -souled, 
Their  worship  or  their  praise  withhold, 
Heart  of  the  Gods,  supreme  is  he, 
The  One  who  ne'er  shall  cease  to  be.' 
On  Sita  then  he  looked  and  smiled  ; 

*  List  to  my  words'  he  said,  4  dear  child, 
Let  not  thy  gentle  breast  retain 

Ope  lingering  trace  of  wrath  or  pain. 
W\ien  by  the  fire  thy  truth  he  proved, 
By  love  for  thee  his  will  was  moved. 
The  furious  flame  thy  faith  confessed 
Which  shrank  not  from  the  awful  test: 
And  thou,  in  every  heart  enshrined, 
Shalt  live  the  best  of  womankind.' 

He  ceased  :  he  bade  the  three  adieu, 
And  home" to  heaven  exulting  flew. 

CANTO  CXXII. 
INDRA'S  BOON. 

Then  Indra,  he  whose  fiery  stroke 
Slew  furious  Paka,  turned  and  spoke : 

*  A  glorious  day,  O  chief,  is  this, 
Rich  with  the  fruit  of  lasting  bliss. 
Well  pleased  are  we  :  we  love  thee  well 
Now  speak,  thy  secret  wishes  tell.' 

Thus  spake  the  sovereign  of  the  sky, 
And  this  was  Rama's  glad  reply  : 

*  If  I  have  won  your  grace,  incline 
To  grant  this  one  request  of  mine. 
Restore,  O  King  :  the  Vanar  dead 
Whose  blood  for  me  was  nobly  shed. 


into  CXXHI. 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


499 


o  life  and  strength  mv  friends  recall, 
nd  bring  them  back  from  Yama's  hall. 
Hien.  fresh  in  might  the  warriors  rise, 
repare  a  feast  to  glad  th$ir  eyes, 
et  fruits  of  every  season' glow, 
nd  streams  of  purest  water  flow.' 
Thus  Raghu's  son,  great-hearted,  prayed 
nd  Indra  thus  his  answer  made  : 
ligh  is  the  boon  thou  seekest :  none 
lould  win  this  grace  but  Raghu's  son. 
t,  faithful  to  the  word  I  spake, 
rant  the  prayer  for  tl>y  dear  sake. 
le  Vanars  whom  the  giants  slew 
leir  life  and  vigour  shall  renew. 
ieir  strength  repaired,  their  gashes  healed 
hose  torrents  dyed  the  battle  field, 
te  warrior  hosts  from  death  shall 
ke  sleepers  when  their  slumber  flies.' 
'Restored  from  Yama's  dark  domain 
le  Vanar  legions  filled  the  plain, 
nd,  round  the  royal  chief  arrayed, 
ith  wondering  hearts  obeisance  paid, 
ich  God  the  son  of  Raghu  praised, 
id  cried  as  loud  his  voice  he  raised  : 
urn,  King,  to  fair  Ayodhya  speed, 
id  leave  thy  friends  of  Vanar  breed. 
y  true  devoted  consort  cheer 
ter  long  days  of  woe  and  fear, 
iirat,  thy  loyal  brother,  see, 
hermit  now  for  love  of  tbee. 
e  tears  of  Queen  Kausalya  dry, 
d  light  with  joy  each  stepdame's  eye  ; 
en  consecrated  king  of  men 
ike  glad  each  faithful  citizen.' 
['hey  ceased  :  and  borne  on  radiant  cars 
ught  their  bright  home  amid  the  stars. 


CANTO  CXXIII. 


THE  MAGIC  CAR, 


Far  is  Ayodhya  :  long,  alas, 

The  dreary  road  and  hard  to  pass.' 

'  One  day,'  Vibhishan  cried,  'one  day 
Shall  bear  thee  o'er  that  length  of  way. 
Is  not  the  wondrous  chariot  mine, 
Named  Pushpak,  wrought  by  hands  divine, 
The  prize  which  Ravan  seized  of  old 
Victorious  o'er  the  God  of  Gold  ? 
This  chariot,  kept  with  utmost  care, 
Will  waft  thee  through  the  fields  of  air, 
And  thou  shalt  light  unwearied  down 
In  fair  Ayodhya's  royal  town. 
But  yet  if  aught  that  I  have  done 
Has  pleased  thee  well,  O  Raghu's  son  ; 
If  still  thou  carest  for  thy  friend, 
Some  little  time  in  Lanka  spend; 
There  after  toil  of  battle  rest 
Within  my  halls  an  honoured  guest.' 
Again  the  son  of  Raghu  spake  : 
•  Thy  life  was  perilled  for  my  sake. 
Thy  counsel  gave  me  priceless  aid  : 
All  honours  have  been  richly  paid. 
Scarce  can  my  love  refuse,  O  begt 
Of  giant  kind,  thy  last  request. 
But  still  I  yearn  once  more  to  see 
My  home  and  all  most  dear  to  me  ; 
Nor  can  1  brook  one  hour's  delay  : 
Forgive  me,  speed  me  on  my  way.' 

He  ceased  :  the  magic  car  was  brought, 
Of  yore  by  Visvakarina  wrought. 
In  sunlike  sheen  it  flashed  and  blazed  ; 
And  Raghu's  sons  in  wonder  gazed. 


CANTO  CXXIV. 


THE  DEPARTURE. 

The  giant  lord  the  chariot  viewed, 
And  humbly  thus  his  speech  renewed  : 
*  Behold,  O  King,  the  car  prepared  : 
Now  be  thy  further  will  declared.' 
He  ceased  :  and  Rama  spake  once  more : 
'These  hosts  who  thronged  to  Lanka's  shore 
Their  faith  and  might  have  nobly  shown, 
And  set  thee  on  the  giants'  throne. 
Let  pearls  and  gems  and  gold  repay 
The  feats  of  many  a  desperate  day, 
That  all  may  go  triumphant  hence 
Proud  of  their  noble  recompense.' 
Vibhishan,  ready  at  his  call, 
With  gold  and  gems  enriched  them  all. 
Then  Rama  clomb  the  glorious  car 
That  shone  like  day's  resplendent  star, 
There  in  his  lap  he  held  his  dame 
failing  her  eyes  in  modest  shame. 
Reside  him  Lakshman  took  his  stand. 
Whose  mighty  bow  still  armed  his  hand, 
O  King  Vibnishan,'  Rama  cried, 
O  Vanar  chiefs,  so  long  allied, 


500 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole 


My  comrades  till  the  foemen  fell, 
List,  for  I  speak  a  long  farewell. 
The  task,  in  doubt  and  fear  begun, 
With  your  good  aid  is  nobly  done. 
Leave  Lanka's  shore,  your  steps  retrace, 
Brave  warriors  of  the  Vanar  race. 
Thou,  King  Sugriva,  true,  through  all, 
To  friendship's  bond  and  duty's  call, 
Seek  far  Kishkindha  with  thy  train 
And  o'er  thy  realm  in  glory  reign. 
Farewell,  Vibhishan,  LanM's  throne 
Won  by  pur  arms  is  now  thine  own, 
Thou,  mighty  lord,  hast  nought  to  dread 
tfrom  heavenly  Gods  by  Indra  led. 
My  last  farewell,  0  King,  receive, 
For  Lanka's  isle  this  hour  I  leave.' 
Loud  rose  their  cry  in  answer  :  '  We, 

0  Raghu's  son,  would  go  with  thee. 
With  thee  delighted  would  we  stray 
Where  sweet  Ayodhya's  groves  are  gay, 
Then  in  the  joyous  synod  view 
King-making  balm  thy  brows  bedew  ; 
Our  homage  to  Kausalya  pa}', 

And  hasten  on  our  homeward  way.' 

Their  prayer  the  son  of  Raghu  heard, 
And  spoke,  his  heart  with  rapture  stirred: 
'  Sugriva,  O  my  faithful  friend, 
Vibhishan  and  ye  chiefs,  ascend. 
A  joy  beyond  all  joys  the  best 
Will  fill  my  overflowing  breast, 
If  girt  by  you,  O  noble  band, 

1  seek  again  my  native  land.' 
With  Vanar  lords  in  danger  tried 
Bugriva  sprang  to  Rama's  side, 
And  girt  by  chiefs  of  giant  kind 
Vibhishan's  step  was  close  behind. 
Swift  through  the  air,  as  Rama  chose, 
The  wondrous  car  from  earth  arose, 
And  decked  with  swans  and  silver  wings 
Bore  through  the  clouds  its  freight  of  kings. 

CANTO  CXXV. 
THE  RETURN. 

Then  Rama ,  speeding  through  the  skies, 
Bent  on  the  earth  his  ea.ger  eyes  : 
'  Look,  Sita,  see,^divinely  planned 
And  built  by  Visvakarma's  hand, 
Lanka  the  lovely  city  rest 
Enthroned  on  Mount  Trikuta's  crest. 
Behold  those  fields,  ensanguined  yet, 
Where  Vanar  hosts  and  giants  met. 
There,  vainly  screened  by  charm  and  spell, 
The  robber  Ravan  fought  and  fell. 
There  knelt  Man'dodari  J  and  shed 
Her  tears  in  floods  for  Ravan  dead. 
And  every  dame  who  loved  liim  sent 


Raran'a  queen. 


From  her  sad  heart  her  wild  lament. 
There  gleams  the  margin  of  the  deep, 
Where,  worn  with  toil,  we  sank  to  sleep, 
Look,  love,  the  unconquerd  sea  behold, 
King  Varun's  home  ordained  of  old, 
Whose  boundless  waters  roar  and  swell 
Rich  with  their  store  of  pearl  and  shell. 
O  see,  the  morning  sun  is  bright 
On  fair  Hiranyanabha's1  height, 
Who  rose  from  Ocean's  sheltering  breast 
That  Hanuman  might  stay  and  rest. 
There  stretches,  famed  for  evermore, 
The  wondrous  bridge  from  shore  to  shon 
The  worlds,  to  life's  remotest  day, 
Due  reverence  to  the  work  shall  pay, 
Which  holier  for  the  laps  of  time 
Shall  give  release  from  sin  and  crime. 
Now  thither  bend,  dear  love,  thine  eyes 
Where  green  with  groves  Kishkindha  He 
The  seat  of  King  Sugriva's  reign, 
Where  Bali  by  this  hand  was  slain.2 
There  Rishya'muka's  hill  behold 
Bright  gleaming  with  embedded  gold. 
There  too  my  wandering  foot  I  set, 
There  King  Sugriva  first  I  met, 
And,  where  yon  trees  their  branches  wav 
My  promise  of  assistance  gave. 
There,  flushed  with  lilies,  Fampa  shines 
With  banks  which  greenest  foliage  lines 
Where  melancholy  steps  I  bent 
And  mourned  thee  with  a  mad  lament. 
There  fierce  Kabandha,  spreading  wide 
His  giant  arms,  in  battle  died. 
Turn,  Sita,  turn  thine  eyes  and  see 
In  Janasthan  that  glorious  tree  : 
There  Ravan,  lord  of  giants,  slew 
Our  friend  Jatayus  brave  and  true, 
Thy  champion  in  the  hopless  strife, 
Who  gave  for  thee  his  noble  life. 
Now  mark  that  glade  amid  the  trees 
Where  once  we  lived  as  devotees. 
See,  see  our  leafy  cot  between 
Those  waving  boughs  of  densest  green, 
Where  Ravan  seized  his  prize  and  stole 
My  love  the  darling  of  my  soul. 
O,'look  again  :  beneath  thee  gleams 
Godavari  the  best  of  streams, 
Whose  lucid  waters  sweetly  glide 
By  lilies  that  adorn  her  side. 
There  dwelt  Agastya,  holy  sage. 
In  plantain-sheltered  hermitage. 
See  fSarabhanga's  humble  shed 

1  Or  Mainaka. 

2  Here,   in   the   North-west    recensic 
Sita  expresses  a  wish  that  TarA  and  t 
wives  of  the  Vanar  chiefs  should  be  invit 
to  accompany  her  to  Ayodhya.   The  c 
decends,  and  the  Vanar  matrons  are  a 
ded  to  the  party.    The  Bengal  recensi 

i  ignores  this  palpable  iateiTuptiou, 


Canto  CXXVIL 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


501 


Which  sovereign  Indra  visited. 
See  where  the  gentle  hermits  dwell 
Neath  Atri's  rule  who  loved  us  well ; 
Where  once  thine  eyes  were  blest  to  see 
His  sainted  dame  who  talked  with  thee. 
Now  rest  thine  eyes  with  new  delight 
On  Chitrakuta's  woody  height, 
See  Jumna  flashing  in  the  sun 
Through  groves  of  brilliant  foliage  run. 
Screened  by  the  shade  of  spreading  boughs 
There  Bharadv&ja  keeps  his  vows, 
There  Ganga,  river  of  the  skies, 
Rolls  the  sweet  wave  that  purifies, 
There  &ringavera's  towers  ascend 
Where  Guha  reigns,  mine  ancient  friend, 
I  see,  I  see  thy  glittering  spires, 
Ayodhya,  city  of  my  sires. 
Bow  down,  bow  down  thy  head,  my  sweet, 
Our  home,  our  long-lost  home  to  greet.' 


CANTO  CXXVI. 


BHARAT  CONSOLED, 


Thy  virtues,  best  of  chiefs,  I  know, 
And  now  a  boon  would  fain  bestow. 
This  hospitable  gift1  receive  : 
Then  with  the  dawn  my  dwelling  leave. 
The  bended  head  of  Rama  showed 
His  reverence  for  the  grace  bestowed  ; 
Then  for  each  brave  companion's  sake 
He  sought  a  further  boon  and  spake : 

'  O  let  that  mighty  power  of  thine 
The  road  to  fair  Ayodhy&  line 
With  trees  where  fruit  of  every  hue 
The  Vanars'  eye  and  taste  may  woo, 
And  flowers  of  every  season,  sweet 
With  stores  of  honeyed  juice,  may  meet,' 
The  hero  ceased  :  the  hermit  bent 
His  reverend  head  in  glad  assent ; 
And  swift,  as  Bharadvaja  willed, 
The  prayer  of  Rama  was  fulfilled. 
For  many  a  league  the  lengthening  road 
Trees  thick  with  fruit  and  blossom  showed 
With  luscious  beauty  to  entice 
The  taste  like  trees  of  Paradise. 
The  Vanars  passed  beneath  the  shade 
Of  that  delightful  colonnade, 
Still  tasting  with  unbounded  glee 
The  treasures  of  each  wondrous  tree. 


CANTO  CXXVIL 


RAMA'S  MESSAGE. 

But  Rama,  when  he  first  looked  down 

And  saw  afar  Ayodhya's  town, 

Had  called  Hanuman  to  his  side. 

The  chief  on  whom  his  heart  relied, 

And  said  : '  Brave  Vauar,  good  at  need, 

Haste  onward,  to  Ayodhya  speed, 

And  learn,  I  pray,  if  all  be  well 

With  those  who  in  the  palace  dwell. 

But  as  thou  speedest  on  thy  way 

Awhile  at  Sringavera  stay. 

Tell  Guha  the  Nishadas'  lord, 

That  victor,  with  my  queen  restored, 

In  health  and  strength  with  many  a  friend 

Homeward  again  my  steps  I  bend. 

Thence  by  the  road  that  he  will  show 

On  to  Ayodhyd  swiftly  go. 

There  with  my  love  my  brother  greet, 

And  all  our  wondrous  tale  repeat. 

Say  that  victorious  in  the  strife 

I  come  with  Lakshman  and  my  wife. 

Then  mark  with  keenest  eye  each  trace 

Of  joy  or  grief  on  Bharat's  face. 

Be  all  his  gestures  closely  viewed, 

1  The  arghya,  a  respectful  offering  to 
Gods  and  venerable  men  consisting  of  rice, 
duiva  grass,  flowers  etc.,  with  water. 


502 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


Boole  VI. 


Each  change  of  look  and  attitude. 

Where  breathes  the  man  who  will  not  cling 

To  all  that  glorifies  a  king  ? 

Where  heats  the  heart  that  can  resign 

An  ancient  kingdom,  nor  repine 

To  lose  a  land  renowned  for  breeds 

Of  elephants  and  warrior  steeds  ? 

If,  won  by  custom  day  by  day, 

>ly  brother  Bharat  thirsts  for  sway, 

Still  let  him  rule  the  nations,  still 

The  throne  of  old  Ikshvaku  till. 

Go,  mark  him  well:  his  feelings  learn, 

And,  ere  we  yet  be  near  return.' 

He  ceased :  and,  garbed  in  human  form, 
Forth  sped  Hanuman  swift  as  storm. 
Sublime  in  air  he  rose,  and  through 
The  region  of  his  father  flew. 
He  saw  far  far  beneath  his  feet 
Where  Ganga's  flood  and  Jumna  meet. 
Descending  from  the  upper  air 
He  entered  &ringavera,  where 
King  Guha's  heart  was  well  content 
To  hear  the  message  Kama  sent. 
Then,  with  his  mighty  strength  renewed, 
The  Vanar  chief  his  way  pursued. 
Valukini  was  far  behind, 
And  Gomati  with  forests  lined, 
And  golden  fields  and  pastures  gay 
With  flocks  and  herds  beneath  him  lay. 
Then  >Jandigrama  charmed  his  eye 
Where  flowers  were  bright  with  every  dye, 
And  trees  of  lovely  foliage  made 
With  meeting  boughs  delightful  shade, 
Where  women  watched  in  trim  array 
Their  little  sons'  and  grandsons'  play. 
His  eager  eye  on  Bharat  fell 
Who  sat  be'fore  his  lonely  cell. 
In  hermit  weed,  with  tangled  hair, 
Pale,  weak,  and  worn  with  ceaseless  care. 
His  royal  pomp  and  state  resigned 
For  Rama  still  he  watched  and  pined. 
SStill  to  his  dreary  vows  adhered, 
And  royal  Rama's  shoes  revered. 
Yet  still  the  terror  of  his  arm 
Preserved  the  land  from  fear  and  harm. 

The  Wind-God's  son,  in  form  a  man, 
Raised  reverent  hands  and  thus  began  : 
'  Fond  greeting,  Prince,  I  bring  to  thee, 
And  Rama's  self  has  sent  it :  he 
For  whom  thy  spirit  sorrows  yet 
As  for  a  hapless  anchoret 
In  Dandak  wood,  in  dire  distress, 
With  matted  hair  and  hermit  dress. 
This  sorrow  from  thy  bosom  fling, 
And  hear  the  tale  of  joy  I  bring. 
This  day  thy  brother  shalt  thou  meet 
Exulting  in  his  foe's  defeat. 
Freed  from  his  toil  and  lengthened  vow, 
The  light  of  victory  on  his  brow, 
With  Kita,  Lakshman  and  his  friends 
Homeward  at  last  his  steps  he  bends,' 


Then  joy,  too  mighty  for  control, 
Rushed  in  full  flood  o'er  Bharat's  soul  ; 
His  reeling  sense  and  strength  gave  way, 
And  fainting  on  the  earth  he  lay. 
At  length  upspringing  from  the  ground, 
His  arms  about  Hanuman  wound, 
With  tender  tears  of  rapture  sprung, 
He  dewed  the  neck  to  which  he  clung : 
'  Art  thou  a  God  or  man,'  he  cried, 
1  Whom  love  and  pity  hither  guide  ? 
For  this  a  hundred  thousand  kine, 
A  hundred  villages  be  thine. 
A  score  of  maids  of  spotless  lives 
To  thee  1  give  to  be  thy  wives, 
Of  golden  hue  and  bright  of  face, 
Each  lovely  for  her  tender  grace.' 

He  ceased  a  while  by  joy  subdued, 
And  then  his  eager  speech  renewed  : 

CANTO  CXXVIII. 


HANUMAN'S  STORY. 

*  In  doubt  and  fear  long  years  have  passed, 
And  glorious  tidings  come  at  last. 
True,  true  is  now  the  ancient  verse 
Which  men  in  time  of  bliss  rehearse: 
'  Once  only  in  a  hundred  years 
Great  joy  to  mortal  men  appears.' 
But  now  his  woes  and  triumph  tell, 
And  loss  and  gain  as  each  befell.' 
He  ceased  :  Hanuman  mighty-souled 
The  tale  of  Kama's  wanderings  told 
From  that  first  day  on  which  he  stood 
In  the  drear  shade  of  Dandak  wood. 
He  told  how  fierce  Viradha  fell  ; 
He  told  of  ^arabhanga's  cell 
Where  Kama  saw  with  wondering  eyes 
Indra  descended  from  the  skies. 
He  told  how  SurpanakhYt  came, 
Her  soul  aglow  with  amorous  flame, 
And  fled  repulsed,  with  rage  and  tears, 
Reft  of  her  nose  and  severed  ears. 
He  told  how  Kama's  might  subdued 
The  giants'  furious  multitude ; 
How  Khara  with  the  troops  he  led 
And  Trisiras  and  Dushan  bled  : 
How  Rama,  tempted  from  his  cot, 
The  golden  deer  pursued  and  shot, 
And  Ravan  came  and  stole  away 
The  Maithil  queen  his  hapless  prey, 
When,  as  he  fought,  the  dame  to  save, 
His  noble  life  Jatayus  gave  : 
How  Kama  still  the  search  renewed, 
The  robber  to  his  hold  pursued, 
Bridging  the  sea  from  shore  to  shore, 
And  found  his  queen  to  part  no  more.1 

1  I  have  abridged  Hanuman's  outlineof 
Rama's  adventures,  with  the  details  of 
which  we  are  already  sufficiently  acquainted. 


Canto  CXXJX. 


THE  RAMA  YAN. 


503 


CANTO  CXXIX. 

THE  MEETING  WITH  BHARAT. 

O'erwhelmed  with  rapture  Bharat  heard 
The  tale  that  all  his  being  stirred, 
And,  heralding  the  glad  event, 
This  order  to  Satrughna  sent  : 
*\et  every  shrine  with  flowers  be  gay 
Let  incense  burn  and  music  play. 
Go  forth,  go  forth  to  meet  your  king, 
Let  tabours  sound  and  minstrels  sing. 
Let  bards  swell  high  the  note  of  praise 
Skilled  in  the  lore  of  ancient  days. 
Call  forth  the  royal  matrons  :  call 
Each  noble  from  the  council  hall. 
Send  all  we  love  and  honour  most, 
Send  Brahmans  and  the  warrior  host, 
A  glorious  company  to  bring 
In  triumph  home  our  lord  the  king.' 

Great  rapture  filled  Satrughna's  breast, 
Obedient  to  his  brother's  hest. 
*  Send  forth  ten  thousand  men'  he  cried, 
*Let  brawny  arms  be  stoutly  plied, 
And,  smoothing  all  with  skilful  care, 
The  road  for  Kosal's  king  prepare. 
Then  o'er  the  earth  let  thousands  throw 
Fresh  showers  of  water  cool  as  snow, 
And  others  strew  with  garlands  gay 
With  loveliest  blooms  our  monarch's  way. 
On  tower  and  temple  porch  and  gate 
Let  banners  wave  in  royal  state, 
And  be  each  roof  and  terrace  lined 
With  blossoms  loose  and  chaplets  twined.' 

The  nobles  hasting  forth  fulfilled 
His  order  as  Satrughna  willed. 
Sublime  on  elephants  they  rode 
Whose  gilded  girths  with  jewels  glowed. 
Attended  close  by  thousands  more 
Gay  with  the  gear  arid  flags  they  bore. 
A  thousand  chiefs  their  steeds  bestrode, 
Their  glittering  cars  a  thousand  showed, 
And  countless  hosts  in  rich  array 
Pursued  on  foot  their  eager  way. 
Veiled  from  the  air  with  silken  screens 
In  Utters  rode  the  widowed  queens. 
Kausalya  first,  acknowledged  head 
And  sovereign  of  the  household,  led  : 
Sumitra  next,  and  after,  dames 
Of  lower  rank  and  humbler  names. 
Then  compassed  by  a  white-robed  throng 
Of  Brahmans,  heralded  with  song, 
With  shouts  of  joy  from  countless  throats, 
And  shells1  and  tambours'  mingled  notes, 
And  drums  resounding  long  and  loud, 
Kxulting  Bharat  joined  the  crowd. 
Still  on  his  head,  well -trained  in  lore 
Of  duty,  Llama's  shoes  he  bore. 
The  moon- white  canopy  was  spread 
With  llowery  twine  engarlanded, 
33 


And  jewelled  chorines,  meet  to  hold 
O'er  Rama's  brow,  shone  bright  with  gold, 
Though  Nandigrama's  town  they  neareil, 
Of  Kama  yet  no  sign  appeared. 
Then  Bharat  called  the  Vanar  chief 
And  questioned  thus  in  doubt  and  grief  : 
*  Hast  thou  uncertain,  like  thy  kind, 
A  sweet  delusive  guile  designed  ? 
Where,  where  is  royal  Rama  ?  show 
The  hero,  victor  of  the  foe. 
I  gaze,  but  see  no  Vanars  still 
Who  wear  each  varied  shape  at  will.' 

In  eager  love  thus  Bharat  cried, 
And  thus  the  Wind-God's  son  replied: 
'Look,  Bharat,  on  those  laden  trees 
That  murmur  with  the  song  of  bees  , 
For  Rama's  sake  the  saint  has  made 
Untimely  fruits,  unwonted  shade. 
Such  power  in  ages  long  ago 
Could  Indra's  gracious  boon  bestow. 
O,  hear  the  Vanars'  voices,  hear 
The  shouting  which  proclaims  them  near 
E'en  now  about  to  cross  they  seem 
Sweet  Gomati's  delightful  stream. 
I  see,  I  see  the  car  designed 
By  Brahma's  own  creative  mind, 
The  car  which,  radiant  as  the  moon, 
Moves  at  the  will  by  Brahma's  boon  ; 
The  car  which  once  was  Ravan's  pride, 
The  victor's  spoil  when  Ravan  died. 
Look,  there  are  Raghu's  sons':  between 
The  brothers  stands  the  rescued  queen. 
There  is  Vibhishan  full  in  view, 
Sugriva  and  his  retinue.' 

He  ceased  :  then  rapture  loosed  each 

tongue : 

From  men  and  dames,  from  old  and  young, 
One  long,  one  universal  cry, 
'Tis  he.  'tis  Rama,  smote  the  sky, 
All  lighted  down  with  eager  speed 
From  elephant  and  car  and  steed, 
And  every  joyful  eye  intent 
On  Rama's  moonbright  face  was  bent. 
Entranced  a  moment  Bharat  gazed : 
Then  reverential  hands  he  raised, 
And  on  his  brother  humbly  pressed 
The  honours  due  to  welcome  guest. 
Then  Bharat  clomb  the  car  to  greet 
His  king  and  bowed  him  at  his  feet, 
Till  Rama  raised  him  face  to  face 
And  held  him  in  a  close  embrace. 
Then  Lakshman  and  the  Maithil  dame 
He  greeted  as  he  spoke  his  name.1 
He  greeted  next,  supreme  in  place, 
The  sovereign  of  the  Vanar  race, 
And  Jambavan  and  Bali's  son, 

1  In  these  respectful  salutations  the 
person  who  salutes  his  superior  mentions 
his  own  name  even  when  it  is  well  known 
to  the  person  whom  he  salutes. 


S0.4 


THE  RAM  AT  AN. 


fiook  VI 


And  lords  and  chiefs,  omitting  none.1 

Sugriva  to  his  heart  he  pressed 

And  thus  with  grateful  words  addressed  : 

'  Four  brothers,  Vanar  king,  were  we, 

And  now  we  boast  a  fifth  in  thee. 

P>y  kindly  acts  a  friend  we  know : 

Offence  and  wrong  proclaim  the  foe,' 

To  King  Yibhishan  then  he  spake: 

*  Well  hast  thou  fo'ught  for  Rama's  sake.' 

Nor  was  the  brave  &atrughna  slow 

His  reverential  love  to  show 

To  both  his  brothers,  as  was  meet, 

And  venerate  the  lady's  feet. 

Then  llama  to  his  mother  came, 

&aw  her  pale  cheek  and  wasted  frame, 

With  gentle  words  her  heart  consoled, 

And  clasped  her  feet  with  loving  hold. 

Then  at  Sumitra's  feet  he  bent, 

And  fair  Kaikeyi's,  reverent, 

Greeted  each  dame  from  chief  to  least, 

And  bowed  him  to  the  household  priest. 

Up  rose  a  shout  from  all  the  throng: 

'  O  welcome,  Kama,  mourned  so  long, 

Welcome,  Kausalya's  joy  and  pride/ 

Ten  hundred  thousand  voices  cried. 

Then  Bharat  placed,  in  duty  taught, 

On  Kama's  feet  the  shoes  he  brought : 

4  My  king/  he  cried,  'receive  again 

The  pledge  preserved  through  years  of  pain, 

The  rule  and  lordship  of  the  land 

Kntrusted  to  my  weaker  hand. 

No  more  I  sigh  o'er  sorrow's  past, 

My  birth  and  life  are  blest  at  last 

In  the  glad  sight  this  day  has  shown, 

When  Bama  comes  to  rule  his  own/ 

He  ceased :  the  faithful  love  that  moved 
The  prince's  soul  each  heart  approved  ; 
Nor  could  the  Vanar  chiefs  refrain 
Fr  >m  tender  tears  that  fell  like  rain, 
Then  Bama,  stirred  with  joy  anew, 
His  arms  about  his  brother  threw, 
And  to  the  grove  his  course  he  bent 
Where  Bharat's  hermit  days  were  spent. 
Alighting  in  that  pure  retreat 
He  pressed  the  earth  with  eager  feet. 
Then,  at  his  hest,  the  car  rose  high 
And  sailing  through  the  northern  sky 
Sped  homeward  to  the  Lord  of  Gold 
Who  owned  the  wondrous  prize  of  old,2 


1  I  have  omitted  the  chieftains'  names 
as  they  could  not  be  introduced  without 
padding.  They  are  Mainda,  Dwivid,  Nila 
Rtghabh,  Sushen,  Nala,  Gavakshay  Gan- 
dhamadan,  £arabh,  and  Panas. 

*  The  following  addition  is  found  in 
the  Bengal  recension  :  But  Vaisravan 
(•Kuvera)  when  he  beheld  his  chariot  said 
unto  it:  'Go,  and  carry  Rama,  and  come 
unto  me  when  my  thought  shall  call  thee, 
And  the  chariot  returned  unto  Kama ;' 


CANTO  CXXX, 


THE  CONSECBATION. 

Then,  reverent  hand  to  hand  applied, 
Thus  Bharat  to  his  brother  cried  : 
*  Thy  realm,  O  King,  is  now  restored, 
Uninjured  to  the  rightful  lord. 
Tli is  feeble  arm  with  toil  and  pain, 
The  weighty  charge  could  scarce  sustain, 
And  the  great  burthen  wellnigh  broke 
The  neck  untrained  to  bear  the  yoke. 
The  royal  swan  outapeeds  the  crow  : 
The  steed  ia  swift,  the  mule  is  slow, 
Nor  can  my  feeble  feet  be  led 
O'er  the  rough  ways  where  thine  should 

tread. 

Now  grant  what  all  thy  subjects  ask  ; 
Begin,  O  King,  thy  roval  task. 
Now  let  our  longing  eyes  behold 
The  glorious  rite  ordained  of  old, 
And  on  the  new-found  monarch's  head 
Let  consecrating  drops  be  shed.' 

He  ceased  :  victorious  Kama  bent 
His  head  in  token  of  assent. 
He  sat,  and  tonsors  trimmed  with  care 
His  tangles  of  neglected  hair. 
Then,  duly  bathed,  the  hero  shone 
With  all  his  splendid  raiment  on. 
And  Sita  with  the  matrons'  aid 
Her  limbs  in  shining  robes  arrayed. 
8 u mantra  then,  the  charioteer, 
Drew,  ordered  by  ^atrughna.  near, 
And  stayed  within  the  hermit  grove 
Tue  chariot  and  the  steeds  he  drove. 
Therein  Sugriva's  consorts,  graced 
With  gems,  and  Kama's  queen  were  placed 
All  fain  Ayodhya  to  behold  : 
And  swift  away  the  chariot  rolled. 
Like  Indra  Lord  of  Thousand  Byes, 
Drawn  by  fleet  lions  through  the  skies, 
Thus  radiant  in  his  glory  showed 
King  Bama  as  he  homeward  rode, 
In  power  and  might  unparalleled. 
The  reins  the  hand  of  Bharat  held  : 
Above  the  peerless  victor's  head 
The  snow-white  shade  Satrughna  spread, 
And  Lakshman's  ever-ready  hand 
His  forehead  with  a  chourie  fanned. 
Vibhishan  close  to  Lakshman's  side 
Sharing  his  task  a  chourie  plied, 
Stigriva  on  ^atrunjay  came, 
An  elephant  of  huges-t  frame  : 
Nine  thousand  others  bore,  behind, 
The  chieftains  of  the  Vauar  kind 
All  gay,  in  forms  of  human  mould, 
With  rich  attire  and  gems  and  gold. 


and  he  honoured  it  when  he  had  heard 
what  had  passed  r 


THE  RAMAYAN. 


505 


Thus  borne  along  in  royal  state 

King  Rama  reached  Ayodhya's  gate 

With  merry  noise  of  shells  and  drums 

And  joyful  shouts,  He  comes,  he  comes. 

A  Brahman  host  with  solemn  tread, 

And  kine  the  long  procession  led, 

And  happy  maids  in  ordered  bands 

Threw  grain  and  gold  with  liberal  hands. 

Neath  gorgeous  flags  that  waved  in  rows 

On  towers  and  roofs  and  porticoes. 

Mid  merry  crowds  who  sang  and  cheered 

The  palace  of  the  king  they  neared. 

Then  Raghu  s  son  to  Bharat,  best 

Of  duty's  slaves,  these  words  addressed  : 

*  Pass  onward  to  the  monarch's  hall, 

The  high-souled  Vanars  with  thee  call, 

And  let  the  chieftains,  as  is  meet, 

The  widows  of  our  father  greet. 

And  to  the  Vanar  king  assign 

Those  chambers,  best  of  all,  which  shine 

With  lazulite  and  pearl  inlaid, 

And  pleasant  grounds  with  flowers  and 

shade.' 

He  ceased  :  and  Bharat  bent  his  head  ; 
Sugriva  by  the  hand  he  led 
And  passed  within  the  palace  where 
St  >od  couches  which  $atrughna's  care, 
With  robes  and  hangings  richly  dyed, 
And  burning  lamps,  had  seen  supplied. 
Then  Bliarat  spake  :  *  I  pray  thee,  friend, 
Thy  speedy  messengers  to  send, 
Each  sacred  requisite  to  bring 
That  we  may  consecrate  our  king.' 
Sugriva  raised  four  urns  of  gold, 
The  water  for  the  rite  to  hold, 
And  bade  four  swiftest  Vanars  flee 
And  fill  them  from  each  distant  sea. 
Then  east  and  west  and  south  and  north 
The  Vanar  envoys  hastened  forth. 
Each  in  swift  flight  an  ocean  sought 
And  back  through  air  his  treasure  brought, 
And  full  five  hundred  floods  beside 
Pure  water  for  the  king  supplied. 
Then  girt  by  many  a  Brahman  sage, 
\7asishtha,  chief  for  reverend  age, 
High  on  a  throne  with  jewels  graced 
King  Rama  and  his  Sita  placed. 
There  by  Jabali,  far  revered. 
Vijav  and  ELasyap's  son  appeared  ; 
By  Gautam's  side  Katyavan  stood, 
And  Varaadeva  wise  and  good, 
Whose  holy  hands  in  order  shed 
The  pure  sweet  drops  on  Rama's  head. 
Then  priests  and  maids  and  warriors,  all 
Approaching  at  Vasishtha's  call, 
With  sacred  drops  bedewed  their  king, 
The  centre  of  a  joyous  ring, 
The  guardians  of  the  worlds,  on  high, 
And  all  the  children  of  the  sky 
From  herbs  wherewith  their  hands  were 
filled 


Rare  juices  on  his  brow  distilled. 

His  brows  were  bound  with  glistering  gold 

Which  Mann's  self  had  worn  of  old, 

Bright  with  the  flash  of  many  a  gem, 

His  sire's  ancestral  diadem. 

£atrughna  lent  his  willing  aid 

And  o'er  him  held  the  regal  shade  : 

The  monarchs  whom  his  arm  had  saved 

The  chouries  round  his  forehead  waved. 

A  golden  chain,  that  flashed  and  glowed 

With  gems  the  God  of  Wind  bestowed: 

Mahendra  gave  a  glorious  string 

Of  fairest  pearls  to  deck  the  king, 

The  skies  with  acclamation  rang, 

The  gay  nymphs  danced, the  minstrels  sang , 

On  that  blest  day  the  joyful  plain 

Was  clothed  anew  with  golden  grain. 

The  trees  the  witching  influence  knew, 

And  bent  with  fruits  of  loveliest  hue, 

And  Rama's  consecration  lent 

New  sweetness  to  each  flowret's  scent. 

The  monarch,  joy  of  Raghu 's  line, 

Gave  largess  to  the  Brahmans,  kine 

And  steeds  unnumbered,  wealth  untold 

Of  robes  and  pearls  and  gems  and  gold. 

A  jewelled  chain,  whose  lustre  passed 

The  glory  of  the  sun,  he  cast 

About  his  friend  Sugriva's  neck  : 

And.  Angad  Bali's  son  to  deck, 

He  gave  a  pair  of  armlets  bright 

With  diamond  and  lazulite. 

A  string  of  pearls  of  matchless  hue 

Which  gleams  like  tender  moonlight  threw 

Adorned  with  gems  of  brightest  sheen, 

He  gave  to  grace  his  darling  queen. 

The  offering  from  his  hand  received 

A  moment  on  her  bosom  heaved  ; 

Then  from  her  neck  the  chain  she  drew, 

A  glance  on  all  the  Vanars  threw, 

And  wistful  eyes  on  Rama  bent 

As  still  she  held  the  ornament. 

Her  wish  he  knew,  and  made  reply 

To  that  mute  question  of  her  eye  : 

*  Yea,  love  ;  the  chain  on  him  bestow 

Whose  wisdom  truth  and  might  we  know, 

The  firm  ally,  the  faithful  friend 

Through  toil  and  peril  to  the  end. 

Then  on  Haniiman's  bosom  hung 
Tiie  chain  which  Sita's  hand  had  flung  : 
So  may  a  cloud,  when  winds  are  still 
With  moon-lit  silver  gird  a  hill. 

To  every  Vanar  Rama  gave 
Rich  treasures  from  the  mine  and  wave  : 
And  with  their  honours  well  content 
Homeward  their  steps  the  chieftains  bent. 
Ten  thousand  years  Ayodhyu,  blest 
With  Rama's  rule,  had  peace  and  rest. 
No  widow  mourned  her  murdered  mate, 
No  house  was  ever  desolate. 
The  happy  land  no  murrain  knew, 
The  flocks  and  herds  increased  and  grew. 


506 


THE  RAM  AY  AN. 


The  earth  her  kindly  fruits  supplied, 
No  harvest  failed,  no  children  died. 
Unknown  were  want,  disease,  and  crime: 
So  calm,  so  happy  was  the  time.1 

1  Here  follows  in  the  original  an  enu- 
meration of  the  chief  blessings  which  will 
attend  the  man  or  woman  who  reads  or 
hears  read  this  tale  of  Rama,  These  bles- 
sings are  briefly  mentioned  at  the  end  of 
the  first  Canto  of  the  first  book,  and  it 
appears  unnecessary  to  repeat  them  here 
in  their  amplified  form.  The  Bengal  re- 
cension (Gorresio's  edition)  gives  them 
more  concisely  as  follows:  'This  is  the 


great  first  poem  bleared  and  glorious,  whicl 
gives  long  life  to  men  and  victory  to  kings 
the  poem  which  Viilmiki  made.  He  whc 
listens  to  this  wondrous  tale  of  Rama  uo 
wearied  in  action  shall  be  absolved  fron 
all  his  sins.  By  listening  to  the  deeds  o: 
Kama  he  who  wishes  for  sons  shall  obtaii 
his  heart's  desire,  and  to  him  who  longs  fo 
riches  shall  riches  be  given.  The  virgii 
who  asks  for  a  husband  shall  obtain  •< 
husband  suited  to  her  mind,  and  shal 
meet  again  her  dear  kinsfolk  who  are  fa 
away.  They  who  hear  this  poem  whicl 
Valmiki  made  shall  obtain  all  their  de 
sires  and  all  their  prayers  shall  be  fulfilled, 


APPENDIX. 

RAVAN  DOOMED. 
SECTION  XIII. 

Afterwards  R2shy«-shring&  said  again  to  the  King  ' '  I  will  perform  another 
sacrificial  act  to  secure  thee  a  son."  Then  the  son  of  Vibhandwkfl,  of  subdued 
passions,  seeking  the  happiness  of  the  king,  proceeded  to  perform  the  sacrifice  for 
the  accomplishment  of  his  wishes.  Hither  were  previously  collected  the  gods, 
with  the  Gwndhttrv0s,  the  Siddhas  and  the  sages,  for  the  sake  of  receiving  their, 
respective  shares,  Brwhnm  too,  the  sovereign  of  the  gods,  with  Sthan00,  and  Na- 
rayanti,  chief  of  beings  and  the  four  supporters  of  the  universe,  and  the  divine 
mothers  of  all  the  celestials,  met  together  there.  To  the  Ushwa-medha,  the  great 
sacrifice  of  the  magnanimous  monarch,  came  also  Indm  the  glorious  one,  surround- 
ed by  the  Mttttwts.  Eishy^-shring^  then  supplicated  the  gods  assembled  for 
their  share  of  the  sacrifice  (saying),  "  This  devout  king  Dusha-rutha,  who,  through 
the  desire  of  offspring,  confiding  in  you,  has  performed  sacred  austerities,  and 
who  has  offered  to  you  the  sacrifice  called  £/shwa-medh0,  is  about  to  perform 
another  sacrifice  for  the  sake  of  obtaining  sons.  To  him  thus  desirous  of  offspring 
be  pleased  to  grant  the  blessing  :  I  supplicate  you  all  with  joined  hands.  May 
he  have  four  sons,  renowned  through  the  universe."  The  gods  replied  to  the 
sage's  son  supplicating  with  joined  hands,  "  Be  it  so  :  thou,  O  brahman,  art  ever 
to  be  regarded  by  us,  as  the  king  is  in  a  peculiar  manner.  The  lord  of  men  by 
this  sacrifice  shall  obtain  the  great  object  of  his  desires.  Having  thus  said,  the 
gods  preceded  by  /ndra,  disappeared. 

They  all  then  having  seen  that  (sacrifice)  performed  by  the  great  sage 
according  to  the  ordinance  went  to  Prwjapwti  the  lord  of  mankind,  and  with 
joined  hands  addressed  Bn/hma  the  giver  of  blessings,  "  O  Brwhma,  the  Rakshus 
Bavwna  by  name,  to  whom  a  blessing  was  awarded  by  thee,  through  pride  trou- 
bleth  all  of  us  the  gods,  and  even  the  great  sages,  who  perpetually  practise  sacred 
austerities.  We,  0  glorious  one,  regarding  the  promise  formerly  granted  by  thy 
kindness  that  he  should  be  invulnerable  to  the  gods,  the  Dan%vas  and  the  Ywkshas 
have  born  (sic)  all,  (his  oppression) ;  this  lord  of  B^kshwses  therefore  distresses 
the  universe;  and,  inflated  by  this  promise  unjustly  vexes  the  divine  sages,  the 
Ywksh&s,  and  Gwndhwrvas,  the  Usooms,  and  men :  where  Havana,  remains  there 
the  sun  loses  his  force,  the  winds  through  fear  of  him  do  not  blow;  the  fire  ceases 
to  burn;  the  rolling  ocean,  seeing  him,  ceases  to  move  its  waves.  'Vishi^vana, 
distressed  by  his  power,  has  abandoned  Lwuka  and  tied.  O  divine  one  save  us  from 
Rav%n<2,  who  fills  the  world  with  noise  and  tumult.  0  giver  of  desired  things,  be 
pleased  to  contrive  a  way  for  his  destruction." 

Brwhrnfl  thus  informed  by  the  dev#s,  reflecting,  replied,  Oh !  I  have  devised 
the  method  for  slaying  this  outrageous  tyrant.  Upon  his  requesting,  "May  I 
be  invulnerable  to  the  divine  sages,  the  Gwndhwrvas,  the  Y^kshas, 


508  APPENDIX. 

and  the  serpents,"  I  replied  «'  Be  it  so."      This  Rakslws,  through   contempt,   ! 
said  nothing  respecting  man;  therefore  this  wicked  one  shall  be  destroyed  by 
man.  The  gods,  preceded  by  Shwkra,  hearing  these  words  spoken  by  Brahma, 
were  filled  with  joy. 

At  this  time  Vishn00  the  glorious,  the  lord  of  the  world,  arrayed  in  yellow, 
with  hand  ornaments  of  glowing  gold,  riding  on  Viimteya,  as  the  sun  on  a  cloud, 
arrived  with  his  conch,  his  discus,  and  his  club  in  his  hand.  Being  adored  by 
the  excellent  celestials,  and  welcomed  by  Brahma,  he  drew  near  and  stood  before 
him.  All  the  gods  then  addressed  Vishn00,  "  O  Mttdh00-s00d?/n#,  thou  art  able 
to  abolish  the  distress  of  the  distressed.  We  intreat  thee,  be  our  sanctuary,  O 
£7chy00t&."  Vishn00  replied, <%  Say,  what  shall  I  do  ?"  The  celestials  hearing  these 
his  wcrds  added  further,  "  The  virtuous,  the  encourager  of  excellence,  eminent 
for  truth,  the  firm  observer  of  his  vows,  being  chiidless,  is  performing  an  Cfehwa- 
medha  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  offspring.  For  the  sake  of  the  good  of  the 
universe,  we  intreat  thee,  O  Vishn00,  to  become  his  son.  Dividing  thyself  into 
four  parts,  in  the  wombs  of  his  three  consorts  equal  to  Huri,  Shree,  and 
Keertee,  assume  the  sonship  of  king  Dusha-Yutha,  the  lord  of  £/yodhya,  eminent 
in  the  knowledge  of  duty,  generous  and  illustrious,  as  the  great  sages.  Thus 
becoming  man,  O  Vishn00,  conquer  in  battle  Ravwn«,  the  terror  of  the  universe,  who 
is  invulnerable  to  the  gods.  This  ignorant  Raksh?/s  Ravwna,  by  the  exertion  of 
his  power,  afflicts  the  gods,  the  G?mdhurv«s,  the  8Mdh«s,  and  the  most  excellent 
sages;  these  sages,  the  Guudhurvas,  and  the  Upsaras,  sporting  in  the  forest 
Nundtma  have  been  destroyed  by  that  furious  one.  We,  with  the  sages,  are 
come  to  thee  seeking  his  destruction.  The  Siddhas,  the  Gtmdhvrvas,  and  the 
Ywkshas  betake  themselves  to  thee,  thou  art  our  only  refuge;  O  Dev#,  affiicter  of 
enemies,  regard  the  world  of  men,  and  destroy  the  enemy  of  the  gods." 

Vishno0,  the  sovereign  of  the  gods,  the  chief  of  the  celestials,  adored  by  all 
beings,  being  thus  supplicated,  replied  to  all  the  assembled  gods  (standing)  before 
Brahma,  "  Abandon  fear  ;  peace  be  with  you;  for  your  benefit  having  killed 
Havana  the  cruel,  destructively  active,  the  cause  of  fear  to  the  divine  sages, 
together  with  all  his  posterity,  his  courtiers  and  counsellors,  and  his  relations, 
and  friends,  protecting  the  earth,  I  will  remain  incarnate  among  men  for  the 
space  of  eleven  thousand  years." 

Having  given  this  promise  to  the  gods,  the  divide  Vishn00,  ardent  in  the 
work,  sought  a  birth-place  among  men.  Dividing  himself  into  four  parts,  he 
whose  eyes  resemble  the  lotos  and  the  pttlasa,  the  lotos  petal-eyed,  chose  for  his 
father  Dwsh«-ratha  the  sovereign  of  men.  The  divine  sages  then  with  the 
Gundlrarvas,  the  Raadras,  and  the  (different  sorts  of  )  ZTpsaras,  in  the  most  ex- 
cellent strains,  praised  the  destroyer  of  Mitdh00,  (saying)  "  Root  up  RavuRo-, 
of  fervid  energy,  the  devastator,  the  enemy  of  Jndra  swollen  with  pride. 
Destroy  him,,  who  causes  universal  lamentation,  the  annoyer  of  the  holy  ascetics, 
terrible,  the  terror  of  the  devout  Tupuswees.  Having  destroyed  Ravana,  tremen- 
dously powerful,  who  causes  universal  weeping,  together  with  his  army  and 
friends,  dismissing  all  sorrow,  return  to  heaven,  the  place  free  from  stain  and 
sin,  and  protected  by  the  sovereign  of  the  celestial  powers.*' 

Thus  far  the  Section,  containing  the  plan  for  the  death  of  Ravwna. 

CABEY  AND  MABSHMAJT. 


APPENDIX.  509 

CAPUT  XIV. 
RATIO  NECANDI  RAVANAE  EXCOGITATA. 

Prudens  ille,  voluminum  sacrorum  gnarus,  responsum  quod  dederat  ali- 
quamdiu  meditatus,  mente  ad  se  revocata  regem  denuo  est  effatus :  Parabo  tibi 
aliud  sacrum,  genitale,  prolis  masculae  adipiscendae  gratia,  cum  carrainibus  in 
ATHARVANIS  exordio  expressis  rite  peragendura.  Turn  coepit  modesfcus  Vibhan- 
daci  films,  regis  commodis  intentus,  parare  sacrum,  quo  eius  desiderium  expleret. 
lam  antea  eo  convenerant,  ut  suam  quisque  portionem  acciperent,  Di  cum  fidici- 
num  coelestium  choris,  Beatique  cum  Sapientibus  ;  Brachman  Superum  regnator, 
Sth&nus  nee  non  augustus  Narayanus,  Indrasque  almus,  coram  visendus  Vento- 
rum  cohorte  circumdatus,  in  magno  isto  sacrificio  equino  regis  magnanimi. 
Ibidem  vates  ille  deos,  qui  portioaes  suas  accipiendi  gratia  advenerant,  apprecatus, 
En  !  inquit,  hicce  rex  Dasarathus  filiorum  desiderio  castimoniis  adstrictus,  fidei 
plenus,  vestrum  numen  adoravit  sacrificio  equino.  Nunc  iterum  accingit  se  ad 
aliud  sacrum  peragendum  :  quamobrem  aequum  est,  ut  filios  cupienti  vos  faveatis. 
Ille  ego,  qui  manus  supplices  tendo,  vos  universos  pro  eo  apprecor:  nascantur  ei 
filii  quatuor,  fama  per  triplicem  mundum  clari.  Divi  supplicem  vatis  nlium  in- 
vicem  affari :  Fiat  quod  petis!  Tu  nobis,  virsancte,  imprimis  es  venerandus,  nee 
minus  rex  ille  ;  compos  net  voti  sui  egregii  hominum  princeps.  Ita  locuti  D! 
Indra  duce,  ex  oculis  evanuerunt. 

Superi  vero,  legitime  in  concilio  congregati,  BRACHMANEM  mundi  creatorem, 
his  verbis  cumpellarunt :  Tuo  munere  auctus,  0  Brachman  !  gigas  nomine  R&van- 
as,  prae  superbia  nos  omnes  vexat,  pariterque  Sapientes  castimoniis  gaudentes. 
A  te  propitio  olim  ex  voto  ei  hoc  munus  concessum  f  uit,  ut  ne  a  diis,  Danuidis, 
Geniisve  necari  posset.    Nos,  oraculum  tuum  reveriti,  facinora  eius  qualiacunque 
toleramus.    At  ille  gigantum  tyrannus  ternos  mundos  gravibus  iniuriis  vexat 
Deos,  Sapientes,  Genios,  Fidicines  coelestes,  Titanes,  mortales  denique,  exsuperat 
ille  aegre  cohibendus,  tuoque  munere  demens,    Non  ibi  calet  sol,  neque  Ventua 
prae  timore  spirat,  nee  Hagrat  ignis,  ubi  Ra"vanas  versatur.    Ipse  oceanus,  vagis 
flustibus  redimitus,  isto  viso  stat  immotus  ;  eiectus  fuit  e  sede  sua  Cuverus,  huius 
robore  vexatus.    Ergo  ingens  nobis  periculum  imminet  ab  hoc  gigante  visu  horri- 
bili ;  tuum  est,  alme  Parens  !  auxilium  parare,  quo  hie  deleatur.    Ita  admonitua 
ille  a  diis  universis,  paulisper  meditatus,  Ehem  !  inquit,  hancce  inveni  rationem 
nefarium  istum  necandi.    Petierat  is  a  me,  ut  a  Gandharvis,  a  Geniis,  a  Divis, 
Danuibus  Gigantibusque  necari  non  posset,  et  me  annuente  voto  suo  potitus  est. 
Prae  contemptu  vero  monstrum  illud  homines  non  commemoravit :  ideo  ab  no- 
mine Hst  necandus  ;  nullum  aliud  exstat  leti  genus,  quod  ei  sit  fatale.    Postquam 
audiverant   gratum  hunc  sermonem  BBACHMANIS  ore  prolatum,  Di  cum  duce 
suo  Indra  summopere  gaudio  erecti  sunt.    Eodem  temporis  momento  Vishnus, 
istuc  accessit,  splendore  insignis,  concham,  discum  et  clavum  manibus  gestans, 
croceo  vestitu,  mundi  dominus,  vulturis  Vinateii  dorso,  sicuti  sol  nimbo,  vectus, 
armillas  ex  auro  candente  gerens,  salutatus  a  Superum  primoribus.    Quern  laudi- 
bus  celebratum  reverenter  Di  universi  compellarunt.    Tu  animantium  afflictorum 
es  vindex,  Madhus  interfector !  quamobrem  nos  afflict!  te  apprecamur.    Sis  prae- 
sidio  nobis  numine  tuo  inconcusso.    Dicite,  inquit  Vishnus,  quid  pro  vobis  facere 


510  APPENDIX. 

me  oporteat.  Audito  eius  sermone,  Di  hunc  in  modum  respondent :  Eex  quid  am, 
nomine  Dasarathus,  austerls  castimoniis  sese  castigavit,  litavit  sacriticio  equino, 
prolis  ctipidus  et  prole  carens.  Nostro  hortatu  tu,  Vishnus,  conditionem  natorum 
eius  subeas  ;  ex  tribus  eius  uxoribus,  Pudicitiae,  Venustatis  et  Famae  similibus, 
nasci  velis,  temetipsum  quadrifariam  dividens.  Ibi  tu  in  humanam  naturam 
eonversus  Ravanam,  gravissimani  mundi  pestem,  diis  insuperabilem,  O  Vishnus ! 
proelio  caede.  Gigas  ille  vecors  Ravanas  Deos  cum  Fidicinum  choris,  Beatos  et 
Sapientes  praestantissimos  vexat,  audacia  superbiens.  Etenim  ab  hoc  furioso 
Sapientes  Fidicines  et  nymphae,  ludentes  in  Nandano  viridario,  sunt  proculcati. 
Tu  es  nostrum  omnium  summa  salus,  divine  bellator!  Ut  deorum  hastes  extin- 
guas,  ad  sortem  humanam  animum  converte.  Augustus  ille  Narayanus,  diis  huno 
in  moduni  coram  hortantibus,  eosdem  apto  hoc  sermone  compellavit :  Quare, 
quaeso,  hac  in  renegotium  vestrum  a  me  potissimum,  corporea  specie  palam  facto, 
est peragendum  ?  aut  unde  tantus  vobis  terror  fuit  iniectus  ?  His  verbis  a  Vishnu 
interrogati  Di  talia  prof  erre  :  Terror  nobis  instat,  O  Vishnus  !  a  Ravana  mundi 
direptore  ;  a  quo  nos  viridicare,  cqrpore  humano  assumpto,  tuum  est.  Nemo  alius 
coelicolarum  praeter  te  hiinc  scelestum  enecare  potis  est.  Nimirum  ille,  O  hosti- 
umdomitor!  per  diuturnum  tempus  sese  excruciaverat  severissima  abstinentia, 
qua  magnus  hicce  reruoi  Parens  propitius  ipsi  redditus  est.  Itaque  almus  votorum 
sponsor  olim  ei  concessit  securitatem  ab  ornmibus  animantibus,  hominibus  tamea 
exceptis.  Hinc  ilium,  voti  compotem,  non  aliunde  quam  ab  homine  necis  peri- 
culum  urget :  tu  ergo,  humanitate  assumpta  eum  intertice.  Sic  mouitus  Vishnus, 
Superum  princeps,  quern  mundus  universus  adorat,  magnum  Parentem  cetero- 
sque  deos,  in  concilio  congregates,  recti  auctores,  affatur  :  Mittite  timorem  ;  bene 
bobis  eveniat !  Vestrae  salutis  gratia,  postquam  praelio  necavero  Kavanam  cum 
filiis  nepotibusque,  cum  amicis,  ministris,  cognatis  sociisque,  crudelem  istum  aegre 
cohibendum,  qui  divinis  Sapientibus  terrorem  incutit,  per  decern  millia  annorum 
decies  centenis  additis,  commorabor  in  mortalium  sedibus,  orbem  terrarum  irn- 
perio  regens.  Turn  divini  sapientes  et  Fidicines  coniunoti  cum  Rudris  nyinpha- 
rumque  choris  celebravere  Madhus  iuterfectorem  hynmis,  quales  sedem  aethe- 
riam  decent. 

"Ravanam  ilium  insolentem,  acri  impetu  actum,  superbia elatum,  Superum 
hostem,  tumultus  cientem,  bonorum  piorumque  pestem,  humanitate  assumpta 
pessumdare  tuum  est." 

SCHLEGEL, 

CAPITOLO  XIV. 


IL  MEZZO  STABILITO  PER  UCCIDERE  RAVANO. 

Ma  Kiscyasringo  soggiunse  poscia  al  re :  T'apprestero  io  un  altro  rito  san- 
tissimo,  genitale,  onde  tu  conseguisca  la  prole  che  tu  brami.  E  in  quel  punto 
stesso  il  saggio  figliulo  di  Vibhandaco,  intento  alia  prosperity  del  re,  pose  mano 
al  eacro  rito  per  coudurre  ad  effetto  il  suo  desiderio.  Gia  erano  prima,  per  rice- 
vere  ciascuno  la  sua  parte,  qul  convenuti  al  gran  sacrifizio  del  re  magnanimo 
TAsvamedha,  i  Devi  coi  Gandharvi,  i  Siddhi  e  i  Muni,  Brahma  Signor  dei  Suri, 
Sthanu  e  1'  A'ugusto  .N^rayana,  i  quattro  custodi  dell'  universo  e  le  Madri  degli 
iddii.  i  Yaesi  insieme  cogli  Dei,  e  il  sovrano,  venerando  India,  visibile,  circondato 


511 

dalla  sdhiera  del  Maruti.  Quivi  cosl  parld  Riscyasringo  agli  Dei  venuti  a  parte- 
cipare  del  sacrifizio  :  Questo  e  il  re  Da^aratha,  che  per  desiderio  di  progenie  gia 
s1  astrinse  ad  osservanze  austere,  e  teste  pieno  di  fede  ha  a  voi.  O  eccelsi,  sacri- 
ficato  con  un  Asvamedha.  Ora  egli,  sollecito  d'  aver  figli,  si  dispone  ad  adempiere 
un  nuovo  rito  ;  vogliate  essere  favor^vole  a  lui  (She  sospira  progenie.  lo  alzo  a 
voi  supplici  le  riiani,  e  voi  tutti  per  lui  imploro :  nascano  a  lui  quattro  figli 
degni  d'essere  celebrati  pei  tre  mondi.  Risposerogli  Dei  al  supplichevole  iigliuolo 
del  Jlisci  :  8ia  fatto  ci6  che  chiedi ;  a  te  eel  al  re  parimente  si  debbe  da  noi,  O 
Brahmano,.sommo  pregio  ;  conseguira  il  re  per.  questo  sacro  rito  ii  suo  suppremo 
desiderio.  Ci6  detto  disparvero  i  Numi  preceduti  da  Indra. 

Poiche  videro  gli  Dei  6ompiersi  debitamente  dal  gran  Risci  1'oblazione, 
Veniiti  al  cospetto  di  Brahma  1'aCitor  del  mondo,  signor  delle  creature,  cosi  par- 
larono  reverenti  a  lui  dator  di  grazie :  0  Brahma,  un  Bacsaso  per  nome  Ravano, 
cui  tu  f  osti  largo  del  tuo  f avore,  e  per  superbia  inf  estp  a  noi  tutti  e  ai  grandi  Saggi 
penitenti.  Un  di,  O  Nume,  augusto,  tu  propizio  a  lui  gli  accordasti  il  f  avore,  ch' 
egli  bramava,  di  non  poter  essere  ucciso  dagli  Dei,  dai  Danavi  ne  dai  Yacsi  :  noi 
venerando  i  tuoi  oracoli,  ogni  cosa  sopportiamo  da  costui.  Quindi  il  signor  dei 
Racsasi  infesta  con  perpetue  offese  i  tre  mondi,  i  Devi,  i  Risci,  i  Yacsi  ed  i  Gan- 
dharvi,  gli  Asuri  e  gli  uomini:  tutti  egli  opprime  indegnamente  inorgoglito  pel 
tuo  dono.  Cold  dove  si  trova  Ravano,  piu  non  isfavilla  per  timore  il  sole,  piu 
non  spira  ii  vento,  piu  non  fiammeggia  il  f uoco  :  1'  oceano  stesso,  cui  fan  corona 
i  vasti  flutti,  veggendo  costui,  tutto  si  turba  e  si  commuove.  Stretto  dalla  forza 
di  costui  e  ridotto  allo  stremo  dovette  Vaisravano  abbandonare  Lanca.  Da  ques- 
to Ra"vano,  terror  del  niondo,  tu  ne  proteggi,  O  almo  Nume  :  degna,  O  dator 
d'ogni  bene,  trovar  modo  ad  estirpar  costui.  Fatto  di  queste  cose  conscio  dai 
Devi,  stette  alquanto  meditando,  poi  rispose  Brahma:  Orsu!  e  stabilito  il  modo 
onde  distruggere  questo  iniquo.  Bgli  a  me  chiese>  ed  io  gliel  concessi,  di  non  poter 
essere  ucciso  dai  Devi,  dai  Risci,  dai  GandharVi,  dai  Yacsi,  dai  Racsasi  ne  dai 
Serpenti ;  ma  per  disprezzo  non  fece  menzione  degli  uomini  quel  Racso  :  or  bene, 
sara  quell'  empio  ucciso  da  un  uomo.  Udite  le  fauste  parole  profferte  da  Brahma, 
f  urono  per  ogni  parte  liete  gli  Iddii  col  loro  duce  Indra.  In  questo  mezzo  qui 
sopravvenne  raggiante  d'immensa  luce  il  venerando  Visnu,  pensato  da  Brahma 
nell'  immortal  sua  mente,  siccome  atto  ad  estirpar  colui ;  Allora  Brahma  colla 
schiera  de'  Celesti  cosi  par!6  a  Visnu  :  Tu  sei  il  conforto  delle  gente  oppresse,  O 
distruttor  di  Madhu  :  noi  quindi  a  te  supplichiamo  afflitti :  sia  tu  nostro  sosteg- 
no,  0  Aciuto.  Dite,  loro  rispose  Visnu,  quale  cosa  io  debba  far  per  voi ;  e  gli 
Dei,  udite  queste  parole,  cosl  soggiunsero  :  Un  re  per  nome  Dasaratha,  giusto, 
virtuoso,  veridico  e  pio,  non  ha  progenie  e  la  desidera  :  ei  gia  s'  impose  durissime 
penitenze,  ed  ora  ha  sacrificato  con  un  Asvamedha  :  tu,  per  nostro  consiglio,  O 
Visnu,  consenti  a  divenir  suo  figlio  :  fatte  di  te  quattro  parti,  ti  manifesta,  O 
invocato  dalle  genti,  nel  seno  delle  quattro  sue  consorbi,  simili  alia  venusta 
Dea.  Cosi  esortato  dagli  Dei  quivi  presenti,  1'augusto  Narayana  loro  rispose 
queste  opportune  parole  :  Quale  opra  s'ha  da  me,  fatto  visible  nel  mondo,  a 
oompiere  per  voi,  O  Devi?  e  d'onde  in  voi  cotal  terrore?  Intese  le  parole  di 
Visnu,  cosi  risposero  gli  Dei :  IJ  nostro  terrore,  O  Visnu,  nasce  da  un  Racsaso  per 
nome  Ravano,  spavento  dell'  universo.  Vestendo  umano  corpo,  tu  debbi  ester- 
minar  costui.  Nessuno  fra  i  Celesti,  fuorche  tu  solo,  e  valevole  ad  uccidere 
iniquo.  Egli,  0  domator  de'  tuoi  nemici,  sostenue  per  lungo  tempo  acer- 


512  APPENDIX 

bissime  macerazioni :  per  esse  f  u  di  lui  contento  Paugusto  sommo  Genitore  :  e 
un  dl  gli  accord6  propizio  la  sicurezza  da  tutti  gli  esseri,  eccettutine  gli  uomini. 
Per  questo  favore  a  lui  concesso  non  ha  egli  a  temere  oflcesa  da  alcuna  parte, 
fuorch&  dall'  uomo,  perci6,  assumendo  la  natura  umana.  costui  tu  uccidi.  Egli, 
il  peggior  di  tutti  i  Racsasi,  insano  per  la  forza  che  gli  infonde  il  dotio  avuto,  da 
travaglio  ai  Devi  ed  ai  Gandharvi,  ai  Risci,  ai  Muni  ed  ai  mortali.  Egli,  sicuro 
da  morte  pel  favore  ottenuto,  e  turbatore  dei  sacrifizj,  nemico  ed  uccisor  del 
Brahmi,  divoratore  degli  uomini,  peste  del  mondo.  Da  lui  furono  assaliti  re  coi 
loro  oarri  ed  elefanti ;  altri  percossi  e  f  ugati  si  dispersero  per  ogni  dove.  Da  lui 
furono  divorati  Risci  ed  Apsarase :  egli  insomnia  oltracotato  contiuuamente  e 
quasi  per  ischerzo  tutti  travagliai  sette  mondi.  Peroid,  O  terribile  ai  nemici  e 
gtabilita  la  morte  di  costui  per  opra  d'un  uomo ;  poich'  un  dl  per  superbia  del 
dono  tutti  sprezzb  gli  uomini.  Tu,  O  supremo  fra  i  Numi,  dei,  umanandoti, 
estirpare  questo  tremendo,  superbo  Rdvano,  oltracotato,  a  noi  nemico,  terrore  e 
tiagello  dei  penitent!. 

GORRESIO. 

XIV. 

De  nouveau  Rishyacringa  tint  ce  langage  au  Monarque :  "  Je  vais  cel6brer 
un  autre  sacrifice,  afin  que  le  ciel  accorde  a  tes  voeuxlesenfantsque  tu  souhaites." 
Cela  dit,  cherchant  le  bonheur  du  roi  et  pour  Paccomplissement  de  son  d&sir,  le 
ills  puissant  de  Vibhandaka  se  mit  a  celebrer  ce  nouveau  sacrifice. 

La  auparavant,  etaient  venus  deja  recevoir  une  part  de  V  offrande  les 
Dieux,  accompagnes  des  Gandharvas,  et  les  Siddhas  avec  les  Mounis  divins, 
Brahma,  le  monarque  des  Souras,  P  immuable  £iva,  et  P  auguste  Narayana,  et  les 
quatre  gardiens  vigilauts  du  monde,  et  les  meres  des  Immortels,  et  tous  les  Dieux, 
escortes  des  Yakshas,  et  le  maitre  eminent  du  ciel,  Indra,  qui  se  manifestait  aux 
yeux,  environne  par  P  essaim  des  Maroutes.  Alors  ce  jeune  anachorete  avait 
supplie  tous  les  Dieux,  que  le  d6sir  d'une  part  dans  P  offrande  avait  conduits  a  P 
aQwamedha,  cette  grande  ceremonie  de  ce  roi  inagnanime  ;  et,  dans  ce  moment,  I* 
epoux  de  Santa  les  conjurait  ainsi  pour  la  seconds  fois  :  "  Get  homme  en  prieres* 
c'est  le  roi  Dacaratha,  qui  est  priv£  de  tils.  II  est  rempli  d'  une  foi  vive  ;  il  s'est 
inflige  de  penibles  austerites  ;  ilvousadeja  servi,  divinites  augustes,  le  sacrifice 
d'un  aQwa-medha,  et  mairitenant  il  s'etudie  encore  a  vous  plaire  avec  ce  nouveau 
sacrifice  dans  Pesperance  que  vous  lui  donnerez  les  fils,  ou  tendent  ses  desirs. 
\7ersez  done  sur  lui  votre  bienveillance  et  daiguez  sourire  a  son  voeu  pour  des  tils. 
C'est  pour  lui  que  moi  ici,  les  mains  jointes,  je  vous  adresse  a  tous  mes  supplica- 
tions :  envoy ez-lui  quatre  fils,  qui  soient  vaiites  dans  les  trois  mondes  !  " 

*'  Oui !  repondirent  les  Dieux  au  fils  suppliant  durishi ;  tu  merites  que  nous 
t'ecoutious  avec  faveur,  toi,  brahme  saint,  et  rn&ne,  en  premier  lieu,  ce  roi. 
Comme  recompense  de  ces  differents  sacrifices,  le  monarque  obtendra  cet  objet 
le  plus  cher  de  ses  desirs." 

Ayant  aussi  parle  et  vu  que  le  grand  saint  avait  mis  fin  suivant  les  rites  a 
son  pieux  sacrifice,  les  Dieux,  Indra  a  leur  t§te,  s»'evanouissent  dans  le  vide  des 
airs  et  se  rendent  vers  P  architecte  des  mondes,  le  souverain  des  creatures,  le 
donateur  des  biens,  vers  Brahma  enfin,  auquel  tous,  les  mains  jointes,  ils  adres- 
sent  les  paroles  suivantes  ;  "  O  Brahma,  un  rakshasa,  nomm6  Ravana,  tourne  au 


APPENDIX.  513 

mal  les  graces,  qu'il  a  revues  de  toi.    Dans  son  orgueil,  il  nous  opprime  tous  ;  il 
opprime  avec  nous  les  grands  anchoretes,  qui  se  font  un  bonheur  des  macerations: 
car  jadis,  ayant  su  te  plaire,  O  Bhagavat,  il  a  recu  de  toi  ce  don  incomparable. 
"  Oui,  as4u  dit,  exaugant  le  voeu  du  mauvais  Genie  ;  Dieu,  Yaksha  ou  Demon 
ne  pourra  jamais  causer  ta  mort !  "    Et  nous,  par  qui  ta  parole  est  respectee,  nous 
avons  tout  support^  de  ce  roi  des  rakshasas,  qui  ecrase  de  sa  tyrannic  les  trois 
mondes,  ou  il  promene  1'  injure  impunSment.    Bnorgueilli  de  ce  don  victorieux, 
il  opprime  indignement  les  Dieux,  les  rishis,  les  Yakshas,  les  Gandharvas,  les 
Asouras  et  les  enfants  de  Manou.    La  ou  se  tient  Rdvana,  la  peur  empeche  le 
Boleil  d'  ^chauffer,  le  vent  craint  de  soutfler,  et  le  feu  n'ose  flamboyer.    A  son 
aspect,  la  guirlande  meme  des  grands  flots  tremble  au  sein  de  la  mer.    Accable 
par  sa  vigueur  indomptable,  Kouvera  def ait  lui  a  cede"  Lanka.    Sauve-nous  done, 
6  toi,  qui  reposes  daus  le  bonheur  absolu  ;  sauve-nous  de  Ravana,  le  fleau  des 
mondes.    Daigne,  6  toi,  qui  souris  aux  vceux  du  suppliant,  daigne  imaginer  un 
expedient  pour  oter  la  vie  a  ce  cruel  De"mon."    Les  Dieux  ayant  ainsi  denonce 
leurs  maux  a  Brahma,  il  r6fl£chit  un  instant  et  leur  tint  ce  langage  :  "  Bien,  voici 
que  j'ai  decouvert  un  moyen  pour  tuer  ce  G6nie  scele'rat.    Que  ni  les  Dieux. 
a-t-il  dit,  ni  les  rishis,  ni  les  Gandharvas  ni  les  Yakshas,  ni  les    rakshasas,  ni  les 
Nagas  meme  ne  puissent  me  donner  la  mort!  Soitlui  ai-je  repondu.    Mais,  par 
d6dain  pour  la  force  humaine,  les  hommes  n'ont  pas  6te  compris  daus  sa  demande. 
C'est  done  par  la  main  d'  un  homme,  qu'il  faut  immoler  ce  mechant."    Ainsi 
tombe"e  de  la  bouche  du  createur,  cette  parole  salutaire  satisfit  pleinement  le  roi 
des  habitants  du  ciel  et  tous  les  Dieux  avec  lui.    La,  dans  ce  meme  instant,  sur- 
vint  le  fortune  Visnou,  revetu  d'  une  splendeur  infinie  ;  car  c'etait  a  lui,  que 
Brahma  avait  pense  dans  son  &me   pour  la  mort  du  tyran.    Celui-ci  done  avec 
I'essaim  des  Immortels  adresse  a  Vishnou  ces  paroles:  "Meurtrier  de  Madhou, 
comme  tu  aimes  a  tirer  de  1'  affliction  les  etres  malheureux,  nous  te  supplions, 
nous  qui  sommes  plong6s  dans  la  tristesse,  Divinite*  auguste,  sois  notre  asyle  !  " 
"  Dites !  reprit  Vishnou;  que  dois-je  faire  ? "  Ayant  oui  les  paroles  de  1'  ineffable, 
tous  les  Dieux  repondirent :  "  II  est  un  roi  nomm6  Da^aratha  ;  il  a  embrasse  une 
tres-dure  penitence  ;  il  a  celebre  meme  le  sacrifice  d'  un  acwa-medha,  parce  qu'il 
n'a  point  de  fils  et  qu'  il  veut  en  obtenir  du  ciel.  II  est  inebranlable  dans  sa  piete, 
il  est  vante  pour  ses  vertus  ;  la  justice  est  son  caractere,  la  verite  est  sa  parole. 
Acquiesce  done  a  notre  demande,  6  toi,  ,Vishnou,  et  consens  a  naitre  comme  son 
fils.    Divise  en  quatre  portions  de  toi-meme,  daigne,  6  toi,  qui  foules  aux  pieds 
tes  ennemis,  daigne  t'  incarner  dans  le  sein  de  ses  trois  epouses,  belles  comme  la 
deesse  de  la  beaute."    Narayana,  le  maitre,  non  perceptible  aux  sens,  mais  qui 
alors  s*  etait  rendu  visible,  Narayana  r6pondit  cette  parole  salutaire  aux  Dieux, 
qui  i  invitaient  a  cet  hero'ique  avatdra.    Quelle  chose,  une  f  ois  revetu  de  cette 
incarnation,  faudra-t-il  encore  quejefasse  pour  vous,  et  de  quelle  part  vient  la 
terreur,  qui  vous  trouble  ainsi  ? '     A  ces  mots  du  grand  Vishnou :    "  C?est  le 
demon  Ravana,  reprirent  les   Dieux;    c'est  lui,  Vishnou,   cette  desolation  des 
mondes,  qui  nous  inspire  un  tel  effroi.    Enveloppe-toi  d'  un  corps,  humain,  et 
qu'il  te  plaise  arracher  du  monde  cette  blessante  epine;  car  nul  autre  que  toi 
parmi  les  habitants  du  ciel  n'est  capable  d'immoler  ce  pecheur.     Sache  que 
longtemps  il  s'est  impose  la  plus  austere  penitence,  et  que  par  elle  il  s'est  rendu 
agreable  au  supreme  ayeul  de  toutes  les  creatures.    Aussi  le  distributeur  ineffable 
des  graces  lui  a-t-il  accorde  ce  don  insigne  d'etre  invulnerable  k  tous  les  etres,  I* 


514  APPENDIX. 

homme  seul  excepte.  Puisqae,  doue  ainsi  de  cette  faveur,  la  mort  terrible  et 
sure  ne  peut  venir  &  lui  de  nulle  autre  part  que  de  I'homme,  va,  dorapteur  puissant 
de  tes  ennemis,  va  dans  la  condition  humaine,  et  tue-le.  Car  ce  don,  auquel  on 
ne  peut  resister,  elevant  au  plus  haut  point  1'  ivresse  de  sa  force,  le  vil  rakshasa 
tourmente  les  Dieux,  les  rishis,  les  Gandharvas,  les  hommes  sanctifies  par  la 
penitence  ;  et,  quoique,  destructeur  des  sacrifices,  lacerateur  des  Saintes  Ecritures, 
ennemi  des  brahmes,  devorateur  des  hommes,  cette  faveur  incomparable  sauve  de 
la  mort  Ravana  le  triste  fleau  des  mondes.  II  ose  attaquer  les  rois,  que  dependent 
les  chars  de  guerre,  que  remparent  les  elephants :  d'  autres  blesses  et  mis  en  fuite, 
sont  dissipes  ca  et  la  devant  lui.  II  a  devore  des  saints,  il  a  devore  meme  une 
foule  d'apsaras.  Sans  cesse,  dans  son  delire,  il  s'amuse  a  tourmenter  les  sept 
mondes.  Comme  on  vient  de  nous  apprendre  q\C  il  n'  a  point  daigne  parler  d'eux 
ce  jour,  que  lui  fut  donnee  cette  faveur,  dontil  abuse,  entre  dans  un  corps  humain, 
6  toi,  qui  peux  briser  tes  ennemis,  et  jette  sans  vie  a  tes  pieds,  roi  puissant  des 
treize  Dieux,  ce  Ravana  superbe,  d'une  force  epouvantable,  d'un  orgueil  immense, 
1'  ennemi  de  tous  les  ascetes,  ce  ver;  qiii  les  range,  cette  cause  de  leurs  gemisse- 
ments." 

Id,  dans  le  premier  tome  du  saint  ltd  may  ana,  Finit  le  quatorzieme  chapitre, 
nomine :  UN  EXPEDIENT  POUR  TUEK  HAVANA. 

HIPPOLYTE  FAUCHB. 


UTTARAKA'NDA. 

The  Ramayan  ends,  epically  complete,  with  the  triumphant  return  of 
Rama  and  his  rescued  queen  to  Ayodhya  and  his  consecration  and  coronation  in 
the  capital  of  his  forefathers.  Even  if  the  story  were  not  complete,  the  conclusion 
of  the  last  Canto  of  the  sixth  Book,  evidently  the  work  of  a  later  hand  than  Val- 
miki's,  which  speaks  of  Rama's  glorious  and  happy  reign  and  promises  blessings 
to  those  who  read  and  hear  the  Ramayan,  would  be  sufficient  to  show  that,  when 
these  verses  were  added,  the  poem  was  considered  to  be  finished.  The  Uttarakanda 
or  Last  Book  is  merely  an  appendix  or  a  supplement  and  relates  only  events  an- 
tecedent and  subsequent  to  those  described  in  the  original  poem.  Indian  scholars 
however,  led  by  reverential  love  of  traditio?),  unanimously  ascribe  this  Last  Book 
to  Valmiki,  and  regard  it  as  part  of  the  Ramayan. 

Signer  Gorresio  has  published  an  excellent  translation  of  the  Uttarakanda, 
in  Italian  prose,  from  the  recension  current  in  Bengal ;'  and  Mr.  Muir  has  epi- 
tomized a  portion  of  the  book  in  the  Appendix  to  the  Fourth  Part  of  his  Sanskrit 
Texts  (1862).  From  these  scholars  I  borrow  freely  in  the  following  pages,  and 
give  them  my  hearty  thanks  for  saving  me  much  wearisome  labour. 

1  The  Academy,  Vol.  III.,  No.  43,  contains  an  able  and  interesting  notice  of 
this  work  from  the  pen  of  the  Professor  of  Sanskrit  in  the  University  of  Cam- 
bridge :  *  The  Uttarakanda^  Mr.  Co  well  remarks,  '  bears  the  same  relation  to  the 
Rdmdyana  as  the  Cyclic  poems  to  the  Iliad.  Just  as  the  Cypria  of  Stasinus,  the 
u&thiopis  of  Arctinus,  and  the  little  Iliad  of  Lescnes  completed  the  story  of  the 


"After  H&ma  had  returned  to  Avodhyd  and  taken  possession  of  the  throne, 
the  rishis  [saints]  assembled  to  greet  him,  and  Agastya,  in  answer  to  his  questions 
recounted  many  particulars  regarding  his  old  enemies.  In  the  Krita  Ynga  (of 
Golden  Age)  the  austere  and  pious  Brahman-fishi  Pulastya,  a  son  of  Brahma, 
being  teased  with  the  visits  of  different  damsels,  proclaimed  that  any  one  of  thent 
whom  he  again  saw  near  his  hermitage  should  become  pregnant.  This  had  not 
been  heard  by  the  daughter  of  the  royal  rishi  Trinavindu,  who  one  day  came  into 
Pulastya's  neighbourhood,  and  her  pregnancy  was  the  result  (Sect.  2,  vv.  14  f£ ). 
After  her  return  home,  her  father,  seeing  her  condition,  took  her  to  Pulastya.  who 
accepted  her  as  his  wife,  and  she  bore  a  son  who  received  the  name  of'  Visravas. 
This  son  was,  like  his  father,  an  austere  and  religious  sage.  He  married  the 
daughter  of  the  muni  Bharadvaja,  who  bore  him  a  son  to  whom  Brahma  gave  the 
name  of  Vaisravafi=Kuvera  (Sect.  3,  vv.  1  ff ).  He  performed  austerities  for 
thousands  of  years,  when  he"  obtained  from  Brahma  as  a  boon  that  he  should  be 
one  of  the  guardians  of  the  world  (along  with  Indra,  Varuna,  and  Yama)  and 
the  god  of  riches.  He  afterwards  consulted  his  father  Visravas  about  an  abode, 
and  at  his  suggestion  took  possession  of  the  city  of  Lanka,  which  had  formerly 
been  built  by  Visvakarman  for  the  Raxasas,  but  had  been  abandoned  by  them 
through  fear  of  Vishnu,  and  was  at  that  time  unoccupied.  Rama  then  (Sect.  4) 
says  he  is  surprised  to  hear  that  Lanka  had  formerly  belonged  to  the  Raxasas,  as 
he  had  always  understood  that  they  were  the  descendants  of  Pulastya,  and  now 
he  learns  that  they  had  also  another  origin.  He  therefore  asks  who  was  their 
ancestor,  and  what  fault  they  had  committed  that  they  were  chased  away  by 
Vishnu.  Agastya  replies  that  when  Brahma  created  the  waters,  he  formed  cer- 
tain beings,— some  of  whom  received  the  name  of  Raxasas,--to  guard  them.  The 
first  Raxasa  kings  were  Heti  and  Praheti.  Heti  married  a  sister  of  Kala  (Time). 
She  bore  him  a  son  Vidyutkesa,  who  in  his  turn  took  for  his  wife  Lankatanknta, 
the  daughter  of  Sandhya  (V.  21).  She  bore  him  a  son  Sukesa,  whom  she  aban- 
doned, but  he  was*  seen  by  6iva  as  he  was  passing  by  with  his  wife  Pa'rvati,  who 
made  the  child  as  old  as  his  mother,  and  immortal,  and  gave  him  a  celestial  city. 
Sukesa  married  a  Gandharvi  called  Devavati  who  bore  three  sons,  Malyavat, 
Sumali  and  Mali.  These  sons  practised  intense  austerities,  when  Brahm^ appeared 
and  conferred  on  them  invincibility  and  long  life.  They  then  harassed  the  gods. 
Visvakarman  gave  them  a  city,  Lanka,,  on  the  mountain  Trikuta,  on  the  shore  of 

Jliad,  and  not  only  added  the  series  of  events  which  preceded  and  follo'wed  it, 
but  also  founded  episodes  of  their  own  on  isolated  allusions  in  Homer,  so  the 
Uttarakdnda  is  intended  to  complete  the  Rdmdyana,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
supplement  it  by  intervening  episodes  to  explain  casual  allusions  or  isolated  inci- 
dents which  occur  in  it.  Thus  the  early  history  of  the  giant  Ravana  and  his 
family  fills  nearly  forty  Chapters,  and  we  have  a  full  account  of  his  wars  with, 
the  gods  and  his  conquest  of  Lanka,  which  all  happened  long  before  the  action 
of  the  poem  commences,  just  as  the  Cypria  narrated  the  birth  and  early-history 
of  Helen,  and  the  two  expeditions  of  the  Greeks  against  Troy  ;  and  the  latter 
chapters  continue  the  history  of  the  hero  Rama  after  his  triumphant  return  to 
his  paternal  kingdom,  and  the  poem  closes  with  his  death  and  that  of  his  brothers, 
and  the  founding  by  their  descendants  of  various  kingdoms  in  different  parts 
of  India.' 


516  APPENDIX. 

the  southern  ocean,  which  he  had  built  at  the  command  of  Indra,...The  three 
Raxasas,  Malyavat  and  his  two  brothers,  then  began  to  oppress  the  gods,  rishis, 
etc. ;  who  (Sect.  6,  v.  1  ff.)  in  consequence  resort  for  aid  to  Mahadeva,  who  hav- 
ing regard  to  bis  protege  Sukesa  the  father  of  Malyavat,  says  that  he  cannot  kill 
the  Raxasas,  but  advises  the  suppliants  to  go  to  Vishnu,  which  they  do,  and 
receive  from  him  a  promise  that  he  will  destroy  their  enemies.  The  three  Raxasa 
kings,  hearing  of  this,  consult  together,  and  proceed  to  heaven  to  attack  the  gods. 
Vishnu  prepares  to  meet  them.  The  battle  is  described  in  the  seventh  section. 
The  Raxasas  are  defeated  by  Vishnu  with  great  slaughter,  and  driven  back  to 
Lanka,  one  of  their  leaders,  Mali,  being  slain.  Malyavat  remonstrates  with 
Vishnu,  who  was  assaulting  the  rear  of  the  fugitives,  for  his  unwarrior-like  con- 
duct,  and  wishes  to  renew  the  combat  (Sect.  8,  v.  3  ff.).  Vishnu  replies  that  he 
must  fulfil  his  promise  to  the  gods  by  slaying  the  Raxasas  and  that  he  would 
destroy  them  even  if  they  fled  to  Patala.  These  Raxasas,  Agastya  says,  were 
more  powerful  than  Ravana,  and,  could  only  be  destroyed  by  Narayana,  i.  e.  by 
Rama  himself,  the  eternal,  indestructible  god.  Sumali  with  his  family  lived  for 
along  time  in  Patala,  while  Kuvera  dwelt  in  Lanka.  In  section  9  it  is  related 
that  Sumali  once  happened  to  visit  the  earth,  when  he  observed  Euver  a  going  in 
his  chariot  to  see  his  father  Visravas.  This  leads  him  to  consider  how  he  might 
restore  his  own  fortunes.  He  consequently  desires  his  daughter  Kaikasi  to  go  and 
woo  Visravas,  who  receives  her  graciously.  She  becomes  the  mother  of  the  dread- 
ful Ravana,  of  the  huge  Kumbhakarna,  of  Surpanakha,  and  of  the  righteous 
Vibhishana,  who  was  the  last  son.  These  children  grow  up  in  the  forest.  Kumbha- 
karna goes  about  eating  rishis.  Kuvera  comes  to  visit  his  father,  when  Kaikasi 
takes  occasion  to  urge  her  son  Ravana  to  strive  to  become  like  his  brother  (Kuvera) 
in  splendour.  This  Ravana  promises  to  do.  He  then  goes  to  the  hermitage  of 
Ookarna  with  his  brothers  to  perform  austerity.  In  section  10  their  austere  ob- 
servances are  described  :  after  a  thousand  years'  penance  Ravana  throws  his  head 
into  the  fire.  He  repeats  this  oblation  nine  times  after  equal  intervals,  and  ia 
about  to  do  it  the  tenth  time,  when  Brahma  appears,  and  offers  a  boon.  Ravana 
asks  immortality,  but  is  refused.  He  then  asks  that  he  may  be  indestructible  by 
all  creatures  more  powerful  than  men;  which  boon  is  accorded  by  Brahm£ 
together  with  the  recovery  of  all  the  heads  he  had  sacrificed  and  the  power  of 
assuming  any  shape  he  pleased.  Vibhishana  asks  as  his  boon  that  "even  amid 
the  greatest  calamities  he  may  think  only  of  righteousness,  and  that  the  weapon 
of  Brahma  may  appear  to  him  unlearnt,  etc.  The  god  grants  his  request,  and 
adds  the  gift  of  immortality.  When  Brahma  is  about  to  offer  a  boon  to  Kumbha- 
karna,  the  gods  interpose,  as,  they  say,  he  had  eaten  seven  Apsarases  and  ten 
followers  of  Indra,  besides  rishis  and  men  ;  and  beg  that  under  the  guise  of  a 
boon  stupefaction  may  be  inflicted  on  him.  BraUmft  thinks  on  Sarasvati,  who 
arrives  and,  by  Brahma's  command,  enters  into  Kumbhakarna's  mouth  that  she 
may  speak  for  him.  Under  this  influence  he  asks  that  he  may  receive  the  boon 
of  sleeping  for  many  years,  which  is  granted.  When  however  Sarasvati  has  left 
him.  and  he  recovers  his  own  consciousness,  he  perceives  that  he  has  been  deluded. 
Kuvera  by  his  father's  advice,  gives  up  the  city  of  Lanka  to  Ravana."  l  Ravana 
marries  (Sect.  12,)  Mandodari  the  beautiful  daughter  of  the  Asur  Maya  whose 

1  MUIB,  Sanskrit  Texts,  Part  IV.,  pp.  414  ff. 


APPENDIX.  517 

name  has  several  times  occurred  in  the  Ram£yan  as  that  of  an  artist  of  wonderful 
skill.  She  bears  a  son  Meghanada  or  the  Roaring  Cloud  who  was  afterwards 
named  Indrajit  from  his  victory  over  the  sovereign  of  the  sides.  The  conquest 
of  Kuvera,  and  the  acquisition  of  the  magic  self-moving  chariot  which  has  done 
much  service  in  the  Ramayan,  form  the  subject  of  sections  XIII.,  XIV.  and  XV. 
"  The  rather  pretty  story  of  Vedavati  is  related  in  the  seventeenth  section,  as 
follows :  Ravana  in  the  course  of  his  progress  through  the  world,  comes  to  the 
forest  on  the  Himalaya,  where  he  sees  a  damsel  of  brilliant  beauty,  but  in  assetio 
garb,  of  whom  he  straightway  becomes  enamoured.  He  tells  her  that  such  an 
austere  life  is  unsuited  to  her  youth  and  attractions,  and  asks  who  she  is  and  why 
she  is  leading  an  ascetic  existence.  She  answers  that  she  is  called  Vedavati,  and 
is  the  vocal  daughter  of  Vrihaspati's  son,  the  rishi  Kusadhvaja,  sprung  from  him 
during  his  constant  study  of  the  Veda.  The  gods,  gandharvas,  etc.,  she  says, 
wished  that  she  should  choose  a  husband,  but  her  father  would  give  her  to  no  on* 
else  than  to  Vishnu,  the  lord  of  the  world,  whom  he  desired  for  his  son-in-law. 
Vedavati  then  proceeds  :  "  In  order  that  I  may  fulfil  this  desire  of  my  father  in 
respect  of  Narayana,  I  wed  him  with  my  heart.  Having  entered  into  this  engage- 
ment I  practise  great  austerity.  Narayana  and  no  other  than  he,  Purushottama, 
is  my  husband.  From  the  desire  of  obtaining  him,  I  resort  to  this  severe  obser- 
Tance."  Havana's  passion  is  not  in  the  least  diminished  by  this  explanation  and 
he  urges  that  it  is  the  old  alone  who  should  seek  to  become  distinguished  by 
accumulating  merit  through  austerity,  prays  that  she  who  is  so  young  and  beauti- 
ful shall  become  his  bride  ;  and  boasts  that  he  is  superior  to  Vishnu.  She  rejoins 
that  no  one  but  he  would  thus  contemn  that  deity.  On  receiving  this  reply  he 
touches  the  hair  of  her  head  with  the  tip  of  his  finger.  She  is  greatly  incensed, 
and  forthwith  cuts  off  her  hair  and  tells  him  that  as  he  has  so  insulted  her,  she 
cannot  continue  to  live,  but  will  enter  into  the  fire  before  his  eyes.  She  goes  on 
"  Since  I  have  been  insulted  in  the  forest  by  thee  who  art  wicked-hearted,  I  shall 
be  born  again  for  thy  destruction.  For  a  man  of  evil  desire  cannot  be  slain  by  a 
woman  ;  and  the  merit  of  my  austerity  would  be  lost  if  I  were  to  launch  a  curse 
against  thee.  But  if  I  have  performed  or  bestowed  or  sacrificed  aught  may  I  be 
born  the  virtuous  daughter,  not  produced  from  the  womb,  of  a  righteous  man," 
Having  thus  spoken  she  entered,  the  blazing  fire.  Then  a  shower  of  celestial 
flowers  fell  (from  every  part  of  the  sky).  It  is  she,  lord,  who,  having  been  Veda- 
vati in  the  Krita  age,  has  been  born  (in  the  Treta  age)  as  the  daughter  of  the 
king  of  the  Janakas,  and  (has  become)  thy  [Rama's]  bride  ;  for  thou  art  the 
eternal  Vishnu.  The  mountain-like  enemy  who  was  [virtually]  destroyed  before 
by  her  wrath,  has  now  been  slain  by  her  having  recourse  to  thy  superhuman 
energy."  On  this  the  commentator  remarks  :  "By  this  it  is  signified  that  Sita 
was  the  principal  cause  of  Ravana's  death  ;  but  the  function  of  destroying  him 
is  ascribed  to  Rama."  On  the  words,  "thou  art  Vishnu,"  in  the  preceding  verse 
the  same  commentator  remarks  :  "  By  this  it  is  clearly  affirmed  that  Sita  was 
Laxmi.  This  is  what  Parasara  says  :  "  In  the  god's  life  as  Rama,  she  became 
Sita,  and  in  his  birth  as  Krishna  [she  became]  RukrninL"  1 

In  the  following  section  (XVIII.)  *' Ravana  is  described  as  violently  inter^ 
ing  a  sacrifice  which  is  being  performed  by  king  Marutta,  and  the  assembled 

MUIB,  Sanskrit  Texts,  Part  IV.,  391,  392, 


618 

gods  in  terror  assume  different  shapes  to  escape  ;  Indra  becomes  a  peacock, 
a  crow,  Kuvera  a  lizard,  and  Varuna  a  swan  ;  and  each  deity  bestows  a  boon  on 
the  animal  he  had  chosen.  The  peacock's  tail  recalls  Indra's  thousand  eyes  ;  the 
swan's  colour  becomes  white,  like  the  foam  of  the  ocean  (Varuna  being  its  lord) ; 
the  lizard  obtains  a  golden  colour  ;  and  the  crow  is  never  to  die  except  when 
killed  by  a  violent  death,  and  the  dead  are  to  enjoy  the  funeral  oblations  when 
they  have  been  devoured  by  the  crows."  l 

Ravan  then  attacks  Arjuna  or  Karttavirya  the  mighty  king  of  Mahishmat! 
on.  the  banks  of  the  Narmadaj  and  is  defeated,  captured  and  imprisoned  by 
Arjuna.  At  the  intercession  of  Pulastya  (Sect.  XXII.)  he  is  released  from  his 
bonds.  He  then  visits  Kishkindha  where  he  enters  into  alliance  with  Bali  the 
King  of  the  Vanars :  "We  will  have  all  things  in  common,"  says  Ravan,  "  dames, 
sons,  cities  and  kingdoms,  food,  vesture,  and  all  delights."  His  next  exploit  is 
the  invasion  of  the  kingdom  of  departed  spirits  and  his  terrific  battle  with  the 
sovereign  Yama.  The  poet  in  his  description  of  these  regions  with  the  detested 
river  with  waves  of  blood,  the  dire  lamentations,  the  Cries  for  a  drop  of  water, 
the  devouring  worm,  all  the  tortures  of  the  guilty  and  the  somewhat  insipid  plea- 
sures  of  the  just,  reminds  one  of  the  scenes  in  the  under  world  so  vividly  described 
by  Homei-j  Virgil,  and  Dante.  Yama  is  defeated  (Sect.  XXVI.)  by  the  giant,  not 
so  much  by  his  superior  power  as  because  at  the  request  of  Brahma  Yama  refrains 
from  smiting  with  his  deadly  weapon  the  Rakshas  enemy  to  whom  that  God  had 
once  given  the  promise  that  preserved  him.  In  the  twenty-seventh  section  Ravan 
goes  "  under  the  earth  into  Patala  the  treasure-house  of  the  waters  inhabited  by 
swarms  of  serpents  and  Daityas,  and  well  defended  by  Varun."  He  subdues 
Bhogavati  the  city  ruled  by  Vasuki  and  reduces  the  Nagas  or  serpents  to  subjec- 
tion. He  penetrates  even  to  the  imperial  seat  of  Varun.  The  God  himself  is 
absent,  but  his  sons  come  forth  and  do  battle  with  the  invader.  The  giant  is 
victorious  and  departs  triumphant.  The  twenty-eighth  section  gives  the  details 
of  a  terrific  battle  between  Ravan  and  Mandhata  King  of  Ayodhya,  a  distinguished 
ancestor  of  Rama.  Supernatural  weapons  are  employed  on  both  sides  and  the 
issue  of  the  conflict  is  long  doubtful.  But  at  last  Mandhata  prepares  to  use  the 
mighty  weapon  "  acquired  by  severe  austerities  through  the  grace  and  favour  of 
Rudra."  The  giant  would  inevitably  have  been  slain.  But  two  pre-eminent 
Munis  Pulastya  and  Galava  beheld  the  fight  through  the  power  given  by  contem- 
plation, and  with  w;  rds  of  exhortation  they  parted  King  Mandhata  and  the 
sovereign  of  the  Bakshases.  Ravan  at  last  (Sect.  XXXII.)  returns  homeward 
carrying  with  him  in  his  car  Pushpak  the  virgin  daughters  of  kings,  of  Rishis, 
of  Daityas,  and  Gandharvas  whom  he  has  seized  upon  his  way.  The  thirty-sixth 
section  describes  a  battle  with  Indra,  in  which  the  victorious  Meghanada  son  of 
the  giant,  makes  the  King  of  the  Gods  his  prisoner,  binds  him  with  his  magic  art, 
and  carries  him  away  (Sect.  XXVII.)  in  triumph  to  Lanka.  Brahma  intercedes 
(Sect.  XXXVIII.)  and  Indrajit  releases  his  prisoner  on  obtaining  in  return  the 
boon  that  sacrifice  to  the  Lord  of  Fire  shall  always  make  him  invincible  in  the 
coming  battle.  In  sections  XXXIX.,  XL,  "  we  have  a  legend  related  to  Rama 
by  the  sage  Agastya  to  account  for  the  stupendous  strength  of  the  monkey  Hanu- 
mat,  as  it  had  been  described  in  the  Rdindyana.  Rama  naturally  wonders  (as 

*  See  Academy,  III,,  43. 


APPENDIX.  519 

perhaps  many  readers  of  the  Rdmdyana  have  done  since)  why  a  monkey  of  such 
marvellous  power  and  prowess  had  not  easily  evercorne  Bali  and  secured  the  throne 
for  his  friend  Sugriva.  Agastya  replies  that  Hanumat  was  at  that  time  under 
a  curse  from  a  Eishi,  and  consequently  was  not  conscious  of  his  own  might,"  l 
The  whole  story  of  the  marvellous  Vanar  is  here  given  at  length,  but  nothing  else 
of  importance  is  added  to  the  tale  already  given  in  the  Ramayana.  The  Rishis 
or  saints  then  (Sect.  XL.)  return  to  their  celestial  seats,  and  the  Vanars,  RaJkshases 
and  bears  also  (Sect.  XLIII.)  take  their  departure.  The  chariot  Pushpak  is  re- 
stored to  its  original  owner  Kuvera,  as  has  already  been  related  in  the  Ramayan. 

The  story  of  Rama  and  Sita  is  then  continued,  and  we  meet  with  matter 
of  more  human  interest.  The  winter  is  past  and  the  pleasant  spring-time  is  come, 
arid  Rama  and  Sita  sit  together  in  the  shade  of  the  Asoka  trees  happy  as  Indra 
and  ^achi  when  they  drink  in  Paradise  the  nectar  of  the  Gods.  "Tell  me,  my 
beloved,"  says  Rama,  "for  thou  wilt  soon'  be  a  mother,  hast  thou  a  wish  in  thy 
heart  for  me  to  gratify  ?  "  And  Sita  smiles  and  answers :  "  I  long,  O  son  of  Raghu, 
to  visit  the  pure  and  holy  hermitages  on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges  and  to  venerate 
the  feet  of  the  saints  who  there  perform  their  rigid  austerities  and  live  on  roots 
and  berries.  This  is  my  chief  desire,  to  stand  within  the  hermits'  grove  were  it 
but  for  a  single  day."  And  Rama  said  :  "  Let  not  the  thought  trouble  thee  :  thou 
.shalt  go  to  the  grove  of  the  ascetics."  But  slanderous  tongues  have  been  bus}'  iu 
Ayodhya,  and  Sita  has  nofc  been  spared,  Rama  hears  that  the  people  are  lament- 
ing his  blind  folly  in  taking  back  to  his  bosom  the  wife  who  was  so  long  a  captive 
in  the  palace  of  Ravan,  Rama  well  knows  her  spotless  purity  in  thought,  word, 
and  deed,  and  her  perfect  love  of  him  ;  but  he  cannot  endure  the  mockery  and 
the  shame  and  resolves  to  abandon  his  unsuspecting  wife.  He  orders  the  sad  but 
still  obedient  Lakshman  to  convey  her  to  the  hermitage  which  she  wishes  to  visit 
and  to  leave  her  there,  for  he  will  see  her  face  again  no  more.  They  arrive  at  the 
hermitage,  and  Lakshman  tells  her  all.  She  falls  fainting  on  the  ground,  and 
when  she  recovers  her  consciousness  sheds  some  natural  tears  and  bewails  her 
cruel  and  undeserved  lot.  But  she  resolves  to  live  for  the  sake  of  Rama  and  her 
unborn  son,  and  she  sends  by  Lakshman  a  dignified  message  to  the  husband  who 
has  forsaken  her  :  "  I  grieve  not  for  myself,"  she  says  "  because  I  have  been 
abandoned  on  account  of  what  the  people  say,  and  not  for  any  evil  that  I  have 
done.  The  husband  is  the  God  of  the  wife,  the  husband  is  her  lord  and  guide  ; 
and  what  seems  good  unto  him  she  should  do  even  at  the  cost  of  her  life." 

Sita  .is  honourably  received  by  the  saint  Valmiki  himself,  and  the  holy 
women  of  the  hermitage  are  charged  to  entertain  and  serve  her.  In  this  calm 
retreat  she  gives  birth  to  two  boys  who  receive  the  names  of  Kusa  and  Lava. 
They  are  carefully  brought  up  and  are  taught  by  Valmiki  himself  to  recite  the 
fcamayan.  The  years  pass  by  :  and  Rama  at  length  determines  to  celebrate  the 
Asvamedha  or  Sacrifice  of  the  Steed.  Valmiki,  with  his  two  young  pupils, 
attends  the  ceremony,  and  the  unknown  princes  recite  before  the  delighted  father 
the  poem  which  recounts  his  deeds.  Rama  inquires  into  their  history  and  recog- 
nizes them  as  his  sons,  Sita  is  invited  to  return  and  solemnly  affirm  her  inno- 
cence before  the  great  assembly. 

"But  Sita's  heart  waa  too  full ;  this  second  ordeal  was  beyond  even'  her 
power  to  submit  to,  and  the  poet  rose  above  the  ordinary  Hindu  level  of  women 

1  Academy -,  Vol.  III.,  No,  43, 


520  APPENDIX. 

when  he  ventured  to  paint  her  conscious  purity  as  rebelling  :  "  Beholding  all  the 
spectators,  and  clothed  in  red  garments,  Sita  clasping  her  hands  and  bending  lo\» 
her  face,  spoke  thus  in  a  voice  choked  with  tears :  '  as  I,  even  in  mind,  have  nevei 
thought  of  any  other  than  Rama,  so  may  Madhavi  the  goddess  of  Earth,  grant 
me  a  hiding-place.'  As  Sita  made  this  oath,  lo !  a  marvel  appeared.  Suddenly 
cleaving  the  earth,  a  divine  throne  of  marvellous  beauty  rose  up,  borne  by  res- 
plendent dragons  on  their  heads ;  and  seated  on  it,  the  goddess  of  Earth,  raising 
Sita  with  her  arm,  said  to  her,  'Welcome  to  thee!'  and  placed  her  by  her  side. 
And  as  the  queen,  seated  on  the  throne,  slowly  descended  to  Hades,  a  continuous 
shower  of  flowers  fell  down  from  heaven  on  her  head."  ' 

11  Both  the  great  Hindu  epics  thus  end  in  disappointment  and  sorrow.  Iir 
the  Mahdbhdrata  the  five  victorious  brothers  abandon  the  hardly  won  throne  to 
die  one  by  one  in  a  forlorn  pilgrimage  to  the  Himalaya ;  and  in  the  same  way 
Rama  only  regains  his  wife,  after  all  his  toils,  to  lose  her.  It  is  the  same  in  the 
later  Homeric  cycle—the  heroes  of  the  Iliad  perish  by  ill-fated  deaths.  And  even 
Ulysses,  after  his  return  to  Ithaca,  sets  sail  again  to  Thesprotia,  and  finally  falls 
by  the  hand  of  his  own  son.  But  in  India  and  Greece  alike  this  is  an  after- 
thought  of  a  self-conscious  time,  which  has  been  subsequently  added  to  cast  a 
gloom  on  the  strong  cheerfulness  of  the  heroic  age."  2 

"The  termination  of  llama's  terrestrial  career  is  thus  told  in  Sections  116 
if.  of  the  Uttarakanda.  Time,  in  the  form  of  an  ascetic,  comes  to  his  palace-gate, 
and  asks,  as  the  messenger  of  the  great  rishi  (Brahma)  to  see  Rama.  He  is  ad- 
mitted and  received  with  honour,  but  says,  when  he  is  asked  what  he  has  to 
communicate,  that  his  message  must  be  delivered  in  private,  and  that  any  one 
who  witnesses  the  interview  is  to  lose  his  life.  Rama  informs  Laxmana  of  all 
this,  and  desires  him  to  stand  outside.  Time  then  tells  Rama  that  he  has  been 
sent  by  Brahma  to  say  that  when  he  (Rama,  i.e.  Vishnu)  after  destroying  the 
worlds  was  sleeping  on  the  ocean,  he  had  formed  him  (Brahma)  from  the  lotus 
springing  from  his  navel,  and  committed  to  him  the  work  of  creation  ;  that  he 
(Brahma)  had  then  entreated  Rama  to  assume  the  function  of  Preserver,  and  I 
that  the  latter  had  in  consequence  become  Vishnu,  being  born  as  the  son  of  Aditi, 
and  had  determined  to  deliver  mankind  by  destroying  Ravana,  and  to  live  on 
earth  ten  thousand  and  ten  hundred  years  ;  that  period,  adds  Time,  was  now  on 
the  eve  of  expiration,  and  Rama  could  either  at  his  pleasure  prolong  his  stay  on 
earth,  or  ascend  to  heaven  and  rule  over  the  gods.  Rama  replies,  that  he  had 
been  born  for  the  good  of  the  three  worlds,  and  would  now  return 'to  the  place 
whence  he  had  come,  as  it  was  his  function  to  fulfil  the  purposes  of  the  gods. 
While  they  are  speaking  the  irritable  rishi  Durvasas  comes,  and  insists  on  seeing 
Rama  immediately,  under  a  threat,  if  refused,  of  cursing  Rama  and  all  his 
family. 

Laxmana.  preferring  to  save  his  kinsman,  though  knowing  that  his  own 
death  must  be  the  consequence  of  interrupting  the  interview  of  Rama  with  Time, 
enters  the  palace  and  reports  the  rishi's  message  to  Rama.  Rama  comes  out,  and 


1  E.  B.  Cowell.    Academy,  No.  43. 
The  story  of  Sita's  banishment  will  be  found  roughly  translated  from  the 
ftaghvvahia,  in  the  Additional  Notes. 

*  K  B.  Cowell.    Academy,  Vol.  Ill,  No,  43. 


APPENDIX.  521 

when  Durv£sas  has  got  the  food  he  wished,  and  departed,  R£ma  reflects  with 
great  distress  on  the  words  of  Time,  which  require  that  Laxmana  should  die. 
Laxmana  however  exhorts  Rama  not  to  grieve,  but  to  abandon  him  and  not  break 
his  own  promise.  The  counsellors  concurring  in  this  advice,  Rama  abandons 
lyaxmana,  who  goes  to  the  river  Sarayu,  suppresses  all  his  senses,  and  is  conveyed 
bodily  by  Indra  to  heaven.  The  gods  are  delighted  by  the  arrival  of  the  fourth 
part  of  Vishnu.  Rama  then  resolves  to  install  Bharata  as  his  successor  and  retire 
to  the  forest  and  follow  Laxmana.  Bharata  however  refuses  the  succession,  and 
determines  to  accompany  his  brother.  Rama's  subjects  are  filled  with  grief,  and 
gay  they  also  will  follow  him  wherever  he  goes.  Messengers  are  sent  to  £atrughna, 
the  other  brother,  and  he  also  resolves  to  accompany  Rama  ;  who  at  length  sets 
out  in  procession  from  his  capital  with  all  the  ceremonial  appropriate  to  the 
"great  departure,"  silent,  indifferent  to  external  objects,  joyless,  with  Sri  on  his 
right,  the  goddess  Earth  on  his  left,  Energy  in  front,  attended  by  all  his  weapons 
in  human  shapes,  by  the  Vedas  in  the  forms  of  Brahmans,  by  the  G£yatri,  the 
Omkara,  the  Vashatkara,  by  rishis,  by  his  women,  female  slaves,  eunuchs,  and 
servants.  Bharata  with  his  family,  and  3atrughna,  follow  together  with  Brah- 
mans  bearing  the  sacred  fire,  and  the  whole  of  the  people  of  the  country,  and 
even  with  animals,  etc.,  etc.  Rama,  with  all  these  attendants,  comes  to  the  banks 
of  the  Sarayu.  Brahma,  with  all  the  gods  and  innumerable  celestial  cars,  now 
appears,  and  all  the  sky  is  refulgent  with  the  divine  splendour.  Pure  and  fra- 
grant breezes  blow,  a  shower  of  flowers  falls,  Rama  enters  the  waters  of  the 
Sarayu  ;  and  Brahm£  utters  a  voice  from  the  sky,  saying  :  "  Approach,  Vishnu  ; 
Raghava,  thou  hast  happily  arrived,  with  thy  godlike  brothers.  Enter  thine  own 
body  as  Vishnu  or  the  eternal  ether.  For  thou  art  the  abode  of  the  worlds:  no 
one  comprehends  thee,  the  inconceivable  and  imperishable,  except  the  large-eyed 
Maya  thy  primeval  spouse."  Hearing  these  words,  Rama  enters  the  glory  of 
Vishnu  with  his  body  and  his  followers.  He  then  asks  Brahma  to  find  an  abode 
for  the  people  who  had  accompanied  him  from  devotion  to  his  person,  and  Brahma 
appoints  them  a  celestial  residence  accordingly."  l 


MUIB,  Sanskrit  Texts,  Part  IV.,  Appendix, 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 


QUEEN  FORTUNE, 


*  A  curious  festival  is  celebrated  in  honour  of  this  divinity  (Lakshmi)  on  the 
lunar  day  of  the  light  half  of  the  month  M&gha  (February),  when  she  is 
identified  with  Saraswati  the  consort  of  Brahma,  and  the  goddess  of  learning.  In 
his  treatise  on  festivals,  a  great  modern  authority,  Raghunandana,  mentions,  on 
the  faith  of  a  work  called  Sanivatsara-sandipa,  that  Lakshrni  is  to  be  worshipped 
in  the  forenoon  of  that  day  with  flowers,  perfumes,  rice,  and  water;  that  due 
honour  is  to  be  .paid  to  inkstand  and  writing-reed,  and  no  writing  to  be  done, 
Wilson,  in  his  essay  on  the  Religious  Festivals  of  the  Hindus  (works,  vol.  ii,  p. 
188.  ff.,),  adds  that  on  the  morning  of  the  2nd  February,  the  whole  of  the  pens  and 
inkstands,  and  the  books,  if  not  too  numerous  and  bulky,  are  collected,  the  pens 
or  reeds  cleaned,  the  inkstands  scoured,  and  the  books  wrapped  up  in  new  cloth, 
are  arranged  upon  a  platform,  or  a  sheet,  and  strewn  over  with  flowers  and  blades 
of  young  barley,  and  that  no  flowers  except  white  are  to  be  offered.  After  per- 
forming the  necessary  rites, all  the  members  of  the  family  assemble  and 

make  their  prostrations  ;  the  books,  the  pens,  and  ink  having  an  entire  holiday; 
and  should  any  emergency  require  &  written  communication  on  the  day  dedicated 
to  the  divinity  of  scholarship,  it  is  done  with  chalk  or  charcoal  upon  a  black  or 
white  board.' 

CHAMBERS'S  ENCYCLOPAEDIA.    Lakshmi, 

INDRA. 

'The  Hindu  Jove  or  Jupiter  Tonans,  chief  of  the  secondary  deities.  He 
presides  over  swarga  or  paradise,  and  is  more  particularly  the  god  of  the  atmos- 
phere and  winds.  He  is  also  regent  of  the  east  quarter  of  the  sky.  As  chief  of 
the  deities  he  is  called  Devapati,  Devadeva,  Surapati,  etc.;  as  lord  of  the  atmos- 
phere, Divaspati;  as  lord  of  the  eight  Vasus  or  demigods,  Fire,  etc.,  Vasava;  as 
breaking  cities  into  fragments,  Purandara,  Puranda;  aslcrdofa  hundred  sacrifices 
(the  performance  of  a  hundred  Asvamedhas  elevating  the  sacrficer  to  the  rank  of 
Indra)  ^atakratu,  Satamakha;  as  having  a  thousand  eyes,  Sahasraksha:  as  husband 
<->f  $aehi,  $achipati.  His  wife  is  called  Sachi,  Indrani,  &akranf,  Maghoni,  Indra- 
sakti,  Pulomaja,  and  Paulomi.  His  son  is  Jayanta.  His  pleasure  garden  or 
<elysium  is  Nandana;  his  city,  Amaravati;  his  palace,  Vaijayanta;  his  horse, 
Uchchaihsravas;  his  elephant,  Airavata;  his  charioteer,  Matali.' 

PROFESSOB  M.  WILLIAMS'S  English-Sanskrit  Dictionary.  Indra* 
VISHNU. 

*  The  second  person  of  the  Hindu  triad,  and  the  most  celebrated  and  po- 
pular of  all  the  Indian  deities.  He  is  the  personification  of  the  preserving  power, 
and  became  incarnate  in  nine  different  forms,  for  the  preservation  of  mankind 
in  various  emergencies.  Before  the  creation  of  the  universe,  and  after  its  tem- 
porary annihilation,  he  is  supposed  to  sleep  on  the  waters,  floating  on  the  serpent 
Sesha,  and  is  then  identified  with  Narayana.  Brahnia,  the  creator,  is  fabled  to 
spring  at  that  time  from  a  lotus  which  grows  from  his  navel,  whilst  thus  asleep 
His  ten  avatars  or  incarnations  are  : 


A  V  klti  I  OS  A  L  NOTES.  523 

I.  The  Matsya,  or  fish,  In  this  avatar  Vishnu  descended  in  the  form  of  a 
fish  to  save  the  pious  king  Satyavrata,  who  with  the  seven  Rishis  and  their  wives 
had  taken  refuge  in  the  ark  to  escape  the  deluge  which  then  destroyed  the 
earth.  2,  The  Kurma,  or  Tortoise.  In  this  he  descended  in  the  form  of  a  tortoise. 
for  the  purpose  of  restoring  to  man  some  of  the  comforts  lost  during  the  flood. 
To  this  end  he  stationed  himself  at  the  bottom  of  the  ocean,  and  allowed  the 
point  of  the  great  mountain  Mandara  to  be  placed  upon  his  back,  which  served 
as  a  hard  axis,  whereon  the  gods  and  demons,  with  the  serpent  Vasuki  twisted 
round  the  mountain  for  a  rope,  churned  the  waters  for  the  recovery  of  the  amrita 
or  nectar,  and  fourteen  other  sacred  things.  3.  The  Varaha,  or  Boar.  In  this  he 
descended  in  the  form  of  a  boar  to  rescue  the  earth  from  the  power  of  a  demon 
called  '  golden-eyed,'  Hiranyaksha.  This  demon  had  seized  on  the  earth  and 
carried  it  with  him  into  the  depths  of  the  ocean.  Vishnu  dived  into  the  abyss, 
and  after  a  contest  of  a  thousand  years  slew  the  monster.  4.  The  Harasinha,  or 
Man-lion.  In  this  monstrous  shape  of  a  creature  half-man,  half-lion,  Vishnu 
delivered  the  earth  from  the  tyranny  of  an  insolent  demon  called  Hiranyakasipu, 
5.  Vamana*  or  Dwarf.  This  avatar  happened  in  the  second  age  of  the  Hindus 
or  Tretayug,  the  four  preceding  are  said  to  have  occurred  in  the  tirst  or  Satyayug; 
the  object  of  this  avatar  was  to  trick  Bali  out  of  the  dominion  of  the  three  worlds, 
Assuming  the  form  of  a  wretched  dwarf  he  appeared  before  the  king  and  asked, 
as  a  boon,  as  much  land  as  he  could  pace  in  three  steps.  This  was  granted;  and 
Vishnu  immediately  expanding  himself  till  he  filled  the  world,  deprived  Bali  at 
two  steps  of  heaven  and  earth,  but  in  consideration  of  some  merit,  left  Patala 
still  in  his  dominion.  6.  Parasurama.  7.  Ramchandra,  8.  Krishna,  or  according 
to  some  Balarama.  9.  Buddha.  In  this  avatar  Vishnu  descended  in  the  form 
of  a  sage  for  the  purpose  of  making  some  reform  in  the  religion  of  the  Brahmins, 
and  especially  to  reclaim  them  from  their  proneness  to  animal  sacrifice.  Many 
of  the  Hindus  will  not  allow  this  to  have  been  an  incarnation  of  their  favourite 
god.  10.  Kalki,  or  White  Horse.  This  is  yet  to  come.  Vishnu  mounted  on  a 
white  horse,  with  a  drawn  scimitar,  blazing  like  a  comet,  will,  according  to 
prophecy,  end  this  present  age,  viz.  the  fourth  or  Kaliyug,  by  destroying  the 
world,  and  then  renovating  creation  by  an  age  of  purity.' 

WILLIAMS'S  DICTIONARY,  V>slmu. 


A  celebrated  Hindu  God,  the  Destroyer  of  creation,  and  therefore  the  most 
formidable  of  the  Hindu  Triad.  He  also  personifies  reproduction,  since  the 
Hindu  philosophy  excludes  the  idea  of  total  annihilation  without  subsequent  re- 
generation. Hence  he  is  sometimes  confounded  with  Brahma,  the  creator  or 
first  person  of  the  Triad.  He  is  the  particular  God  of  the  Tantrikas,  or  followers 
of  the  books  called  Tantras.  His  worshippers  are  termed  £aivas,  and  although 
not  so  numerous  aa  the  Vaishnavas,  exalt  their  god  to  the  highest  place  in  the 
heavens,  and  combine  in  him  many  of  the  attributes  which  properly  belong  to  the 
other  deities.  According  to  them  giva  is  Time,  Justice,  Fire,  Water,  the  Suu,  the 
Destroyer  and  Creator.  As  presiding  over  generation,  his  type  is  the  Linga,  or 
Phallus,  the  origin  probably  of  the  Phallic  emblem  of  Egypt  and  Greece.  As 
the  God  of  generation  and  justice,  which  latter  character  he  shares  with  the  god 
Yama,  he  is  represented  riding  a  white  bull.  His  own  colour,  as  well  as  that  of 
the  bull,  is  generally  white,  referring  probably  to  the  unsullied  purity  of  Justice. 
35 


524  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

His  throat  is  dark-blue;  his  hair  of  a  light  reddish  colour,  and  thickly  matted 
together,  and  gathered  above  his  head  like  the  hair  of  an  ascetic.  He  is  some- 
times seen  with  two  hands,  sometimes  with  four,  eight,  or  ten.  and  with  five  faces. 
He  has  three  eyes,  one  being  in  the  centre  of  his  forehead,  pointing  up  and  down. 
These  are  said  to  denote  his  view  of  the  three  divisions  of  time,  past,  present,  and 
future.  He  holds  a  trident  in  his  hand  to  denote,  as  some  say,  his  relationship  to 
\vater,  or  according  to  others,  to  show  that  the  three  great  attributes  of  Creator, 
Destroyer,  and  Regenerator  are  combined  in  him.  His  loins  are  enveloped  in  a 
tiger's  skin.  In  his  character  of  Time,  he  not  only  presides  over  its  extinction, 
but  also  its  astronomical  regulation.  A  crescent  or  half -moon  on  his  forehead 
indicates  the  measure  of  time  by  the  phases  of  the  moon  ;  a  serpent  forms  one  of 
his  necklaces  to  denote  the  measure  of  time  by  years,  and  a  second  necklace  of 
human  skulls  marks  the  lapse  and  revolution  of  ages,  and  the  extinction  and 
succession  of  the  generations  of  mankind.  He  is  often  represented  as  entirely 
covered  with  serpents,  which  are  the  emblems  of  immortality*  They  are  bound 
in  his  hair,  round  his  neck,  wrists,  waist,  arms  and  legs  ;  they  serve  as  rings  for 
his  fingers,  and  earrings  for  his  ears,  and  are  his  constant  companions,  $iva  has 
more  than  a  thousand  names  which  are  detailed  at  length  in  the  sixty-ninth 
chapter  of  the  &va  Purana,— WILLIAMS'S  DICTIONARY,  Siva. 

APSARASES. 

*  Originally  these  deities  seem  to  have  been  personifications  of  the  vapours 
which  are  attracted  by  the  sun,  and  form  into  mist  or  clouds :  their  character 
may  be  thus  interpreted  in  the  few  hymns  of  the  Rigveda  where  mention  is  made 
of  them.  At  a  subsequent  period  When  the  Gandharva  of  the  Rigveda  who  per- 
sonifies there  especially  the  Fire  of  the  Sun,  expanded  into  the  Fire  of  Light- 
ning, the  rays  of  the  moon  and  other  attributes  of  the  elementary  life  of  heaven 
as  well  as  into  pious  acts  referring  to  it,  the  Apsarasas  become  divinities 
which  represent  phenomena  or  objects  both  of  a  physical  and  ethical  kind  closely 
associated  with  that  life  ;  thus  in  the  Yajurveda  Sunbeams  are  called  the  Ap- 
sarasas  associated  with  the  Gandharva  who  is  the  Sun  ;  Plants  are  termed  the 
Apsarasas  connected  with  the  Gandharva  Fire :  Constellations  are  the  Apsarasaa 
of  the  Gandharva  Moon  :  Waters  the  Apsarasas  of  the  Gandharva  Wind,  etc. 

etc In  the  last  Mythological  epoch  when  the  Gandharvas  have  saved 

from  their  elementary  nature  merely  so  much  as  to  be  musicians  in  the  paradise 
of  Indra,  the  Apsarasas  appear  among  other  subordinate  deities  which  share  in 
the  merry  life  of  Indra's  heaven,  as  the  wives  of  the  Gandharvas,  but  more 
especially  as  wives  of  a  licentious  sort,  and  they  are  promised  therefore,  too,  as  a 
reward  to  heroes  fallen  in  battle  when  they  are  received  in  the  paradise  of  Indra; 
and  while,  in  the  Rigveda,  they  assist  Soma  to  pour  down  his  floods,  they  descend 
in  the  epic  literature  on  earth  merely  to  shake  the  virtue  of  penitent  Sages  and 
to  deprive  them  of  the  power  they  would  otherwise  have  acquired  through  unbro- 
ken austerities.'— GOLDSIUCKEE'S  Sanskrit  Dictionary, 

VISHNU'S  INCARNATION  AS  &AMA. 

'  Here  is  described  one  of  the  avatars,  descents  or  manifestations  of  Vishnu 
in  a  visible  form.  The  word  avatar  signifies  literally  descent.  The  avatar  which 
i§  here  spoken  of,  that  in  which,  according  to  Indian  traditions,  Vishnu  descended 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  525 

and  appeared  upon  earth  in  the  corporeal  form  of  Rdma,  the  hero  of  the  Rama- 
yana,  is  the  seventh  in  the  series  of  Indian  avatars.  Much  has  been  said  before 
now  of  these  avatars,  and  through  deficient  knowledge  of  the  ideas  and  doctrines 
of  India,  they  have  been  compared  to  the  sublime  dogma  of  the  Christian  Incar- 
nation. This  is  one  of  the  grossest  errors  that  ignorance  of  the  ideas  and  beliefs 
of  a  people  has  produced.  Between  the  avatars  of  India  and  the  Christian  Incar- 
nation there  is  such  an  immensity  of  differnce  that  it  is  impossible  to  find  any 
reasonable  analogy  that  can  approximate  them.  The  idea  of  the  avatars  is  in- 
timately united  with  that  of  the  Trimurti ;  the  bond  of  connection  between  these 
two  ideas  is  an  essential  notion  common  to  both,  the  notion  of  Vishnu.  What 
is  the  Trimurti  ?  I  have  already  said  that  it  is  composed  of  three  Gods,  Brahm£ 
(masculine),  Vishnu  the  God  of  avatars,  and  3iva.  These  three  Gods,  who  when 
reduced  to  their  primitive  and  most  simple  expression  are  but  three  cosmogonical 
personifications,  three  powers  or  forces  of  nature,  these  Gods,  I  say,  are  here 
found,  according  to  Indian  doctrines,  entirely  external  to  the  true  God  of  India, 
or  Brahma  in  the  neuter  gender.  Brahma  is  alone,  unchangeable  in  the  midst  of 
creation:  all  emanates  from  him,  he  comprehends  all,  but  he  remains  extraneous 
to  all:  he  is  Being  and  the  negation  of  beings.  Brahma  is  never  worshipped; 
the  indeterminate  Being  is  never  invoked  ;  he  is  inaccessible  to  the  prayers  aa 
the  actions  of  man  ;  humanity,  as  well  as  nature,  is  extraneous  to  him.  External 
to  Brahma  rises  the  Trimurti,  that  is  to  say,  Brahma  ( masculine)  the  power 
which  creates,  Vishnu  the  power  which  preserves,  and  Siva  the  power  which  de- 
stroys :  theogony  here  commences  at  the  same  time  with  cosmogony.  The  three 
divinities  of  the  Trimurti  govern  the  phenomena  of  the  universe  and  influence 
all  nature.  The  real  God  of  India  is  by  himself  without  power  ;  real  efficacious 
power  is  attributed  only  to  three  divinities  who  exist  externally  to  him.  Brahma\ 
Vishnu,  and  £iva,  possessed  of  qualities  in  part  contradictory  and  attributes 
that  are  mutually  exclusive,  have  no  other  accord  or  harmony  than  that  which 
results  from  the  power  of  things  itself,  and  which  is  found  external  to  their  own 
thoughts.  Such  is  the  Indian  Trimurti.  What  an  immense  difference  between 
this  Triad  and  the  wonderful  Trinity  of  Christianity  !  Here  there  is  only  one 
God,  who  created  all,  provides  for  all,  governs  all.  He  exists  in  three  Persons 
equal  to  one  another,  and  intimately  united  in  one  only  infinite  and  eternal 
substance.  The  Father  represents  the  eternal  thought  and  the  power  which 
created,  the  Son  infinite  love,  the  Holy  Spirit  universal  sanctification.  This  one 
and  triune  God  completes  by  omnipotent  power  the  great  work  of  creation  which, 
•when  it  has  come  forth  from  His  hands,  proceeds  in  obedience  to  the  laws  which 
He  has  given  it,  governed  with  certain  order  by  His  infinite  providence. 

The  immense  difference  between  the  Trimurti  of  India  and  the  Christian 
Trinity  is  found  again  between  the  avatars  of  Vishnu  and  the  Incarnation  of 
Christ.  The  avatar  was  effected  altogether  externally  to  the  Being  who  is  in 
India  regarded  as  the  true  God,  The  manifestation  of  one  essentially  cosmo- 
gonical divinity  wrought  for  the  most  part  only  material  and  cosmogonioal 
prodigies.  At  one  time  it  takes  the  form  of  the  gigantic  tortoise  which  sustains 
Mount  Mandar  from  sinking  in  the  ocean;  at  another  of  the  fish  which  raises  the 
lost  Veda  from  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  and  saves  mankind  from  the  waters.  When 
these  avatars  are  not  cosmogonieal  they  consist  in  some  protection  accorded  to 


526  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

men  or  Gods,  a  protection  which  is  neither  universal  nor  permanent.  The  very 
manner  in  which  the  avatar  is  effected  corresponds  to  its  material  nature,  for 
instance  the  mysterious  vase  and  the  magic  liquor  by  means  of  which  the  avatar 
here  spoken  of  takes  place.  What  are  the  forms  which  Vishnu  takes  in  his 
descents?  They  are  the  simple  forms  of  life  ;  he  becomes  a  tortoise,  a  boar,  a  fish, 
but  he  is  not  obliged  to  take  the  form  of  intelligence  and  liberty,  that  is  to  say, 
the  form  of  man.  In  the  avatar  of  Vishnu  is  discovered  the  inpress  of  panthe- 
istic ideas  which  have  always  more  or  less  prevailed  in  India.  Does  the  avatar 
produce  a  permanent  and  definitive  result  in  the  world?  By  no  means.  It  is 
renewed  at  every  catastrophe  either  of  nature  or  man,  and  its  effects  are  only 

transitory To  sum  up  then,  the  Indian  avatar  is  effected  externally  to  the 

true  God  of  India,  to  Brahma  ;  it  has  only  a  cosmogonical  or  historical  mission 
which  is  neither  lasting  nor  decisive  ;  it  is  accomplished  by  means  of  strange 
prodigies  and  magic  transformations  ;  it  may  assume  promiscuously  all  the  forms 
of  life  ;  it  may  be  repeated  indefinitely.  Now  let  the  whole  of  this  Indian  idea 
taken  from  primitive  tradition  be  compared  with  the  Incarnation  of  Christ  and 
it  will  be  seen  that  there  is  between  the  two  an  irreconcilable  difference.  Accord- 
ing to  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  the  Everlasting  Word,  Infinite  Love,  the  Son  of 
God,  and  equal  to  Him,  assumed  a  human  body,  and  being  born  as  a  man  ac- 
complished by  his  divine  act  the  great  miracle  of  the  spiritual  redemption  of 
man.  His  coming  had  for  its  sole  object  to  bring  erring  and  lost  humanity  back 
to  Him  ;  this  work  being  accomplished,  and  the  divine  union  of  men  with  God 
being  re-established,  redemption  is  complete  and  remains  eternal. 

The  superficial  study  of  India  produced  in  the  last  century  many  erroneous 
ideas,  many  imaginary  and  false  parallels  between  Christianity  and  the  Brah- 
manical  religion,  A  profounder  knowledge  of  Indian  civilization  and  religion, 
and  philological  studies  enlarged  and  guided  by  more  certain  principles  have 
dissipated  one  by  one  all  those  errors.  The  attributes  of  the  Christian  God, 
which  by  one  of  those  intellectual  errors,  which  Vico  attributes  to  the  vanity 
of  the  learned,  had  been  transferred  to  Vishnu,  have  by  a  better  inspired  philoso- 
phy been  reclaimed  for  Christianity,  and  the  result  of  the  two  religions,  one 
immovable  and  powerless,  the  other  diffusing  itself  with  all  its  inherent  force 
and  energy,  has  shown  further  that  there  is  a  difference,  a  real  opposition,  be- 
tween the  two  principles.'— GOKRUSIO. 

KU&A  AND  LAVA,  Page  10. 

As  the  story  of  the  banishment  of  Sita  and  the  subsequent  birth  in  VaK 
miki's  hermitage  of  Kusa  and  Lava  the  rhapsodists  of  the  Ramayan,  is  intimately 
connected  with  the  account  in  the  introductory  cantos  of  Valmiki's  composition 
of  the  poem,  I  shall,  I  trust,  be  pardoned  for  extracting  it  from  my  rough  tran- 
slation of  Kalidasa's  Kaghuvahsa,  parts  only  of  which  have  been  offered  to  the- 
public. 

4  Then,  day  by  day,  the  husband's  hope  grew  high, 

Gazing  with  love  on  Sita's  melting  eye: 

With  anxious  care  he  saw  her  pallid  cheek, 

And  fondly  bade  her  all  her  wishes  speak. 

'  Once  more  I  fain  would  see,'  the  lady  cried, 

*  The  sacred  groves  that  rise  on  Gangu's  side, 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  527 

Where  holy  grass  is  ever  fresh  and  green, 

Arid  cattle  feeding  on  the  rice  are  seen  : 

There  would  I  rest  awhile,  where  once  I  strayed 

Linked  in  sweet  friendship  to  each  hermit  maid.' 

And  Rama  smiled  upon  his  wife,  and  sware, 

With  many  a  tender  oath,  to  grant  her  prayer. 

It  chanced,  one  evening,  from  a  lofty  seat 

He  viewed  Ayodhya  stretched  before  his  feet  : 

He  looked  with  pride  upon  the  royal  road 

Lined  with  gay  shops  their  glittering  stores  that  showed, 

He  looked  on  Sarju's  silver  waves,  that  bore 

The  light  barks  flying  with  the  sail  and  oar  ; 

He  saw  the  gardens  near  the  town  that  lay, 

Filled  with  glad  citizens  and  boys. at  play. 

Then  swelled  the  monarch'bosom  with  delight, 

And  his  heart  triumphed  at  the  happy  sight. 

Be  turned  to  Bhadra,  standing  by  his  side,— 

Upon  whose  secret  news  the  king  relied, — 

And  bade  him  say  what  people  said  and  thought 

Of  all  the  exploits  that  his  arm  had  wrought. 

The  spy  was  silent,  but,  when  questioned  still. 

Thus  spake,  obedient  to  his  master's  will  : 

'For  all  thy  deeds  in  peace  and  battle  done 

The  people  praise  thee,  King,  except  for  one  : 

This  only  act  of  all  thy  life  they  blame,-— 

Thy  welcome  home  of  her,  thy  ravished  dame.' 

Like  iron  yielding  to  the  iron's  blow, 

Sank  Rama,  smitten  by  those  words  of  woe. 

His  breast^  where  love  and  fear  for  empire  vied, 

Swayed,  like  a  rapid  swing,  from  side  to  side. 

Shall  be  this  rumour  scorn,  which  blots  his  life, 

Or  banish  her,  his  dear  and  spotless  wife  ? 

But  rigid  Duty  left  no  choice  between 

His  perilled  honour  and  his  darling  queen. 

Called  to  his  side,  his  Brothers  wept  to  trace 

The  marks  of  anguish  in  his  altered  face. 

No  longer  bright  and  glorious  as  of  old, 

He  thus  addressed  them  when  the  tale  was  told  : 

'  Alas!  my  brothers,  that  my  life  should  blot 

The  fame  of  those  the  Sun  himself  begot ; 

As  from  the  labouring  cloud  the  driven  rain 

Leaves  on  the  mirror's  polished  face  a  stain. 

E'en  as  an  elephant  who  loathes  the  stake 

And  the  strong  chain  he  has  no  power  to  break, 

I  cannot  brook  this  cry  on  every  side, 

That  spreads  like  oil  upon  the  moving  tide. 

I  leave  the  daughter  of  Videha's  King, 

And  the  fair  blossom  soon  from  her  to  spring, 


528  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

As  erst,  obedient  to  ray  sire's  command, 

I  left  the  empire  of  the  sea-girt  land. 

Good  is  my  queen,  and  spotless  ;  but  the  blame 

Is  hard  to  bear,  the  mockery  and  the  shame. 

Men  blame  the  pure  Moon  for  the  darkened  ray, 

When  the  black  shadow  takes  the  light  away. 

And,  O  my  brothers,  if  ye  wish  to  see 

Kama  live  long  from  this  reproach  set  free, 

Let  not  your  pity  labour  to  control 

The  firm  sad  purpose  of  his  changeless  soul.' 

Thus  Rama  spake.    The  sorrowing  brothers  heard 
His  stern  resolve,  without  an  answering  word; 
For  none  among  them  dared  his  voice  to  raise, 
That  will  to  question :— and  they  could  not  praise. 
*  Beloved  brother,'  thus  the  monarch  cried 
To  his  dear  Lakshman,  whom  he  called  aside.— 
Lakshman,  who  knew  no  will  save  his  alone 
Whose  hero  deeds  through  all  the  world  were  known  :- 
'  My  queen  has  told  me  that  she  longs  to  rove 
Beneath  the  shade  of  Saint  Valmiki's  grove  : 
Now  mount  thy  car,  away  my  lady  bear  ; 
Tell  all,  and  leave  her  in  the  forest  there.' 

The  car  was  brought,  the  gentle  lady  smiled, 
As  the  glad  news  her  trusting  heart  beguiled. 
She  mounted  up  :  Sumantra  held  the  reins  : 
And  forth  the  coursers  bounded  o'er  the  plains. 
She  saw  green  fields  in  all  their  beauty  dressed* 
And  thanked  her  husband  in  her  loving  breast.' 
Alas  !  deluded  queen  !  she  little  knew 
How  changed  was  he  whom  she  believed  so  true  ; 
How  one  she  worshipped  like  the  Heavenly  Tree' 
Could,  in  a  moment's  time,  so  deadly  be. 
Her  right  eye  throbbed,-ill.0mened  sign,  to  tell 
The  endless  loss  of  him  she  loved  so  well, 
And  to  the  lady's  saddening  heart  revealed 
The  woe  that  Lakshman,  in  his  love,  concealed. 
Pale  grew  the  bloom  of  her  sweet  face,— as  fade 
The  lotus  blossoms,— by  that  sign  dismayed. 
'  Oh,  may  this  omen,'— was  her  silent  prayer,— 
'  No  grief  to  Rama  or  his  brothers  bear  !' 

When  Lakshman,  faithful  to  his  brother,  stood 
Prepared  to  leave  her  in  the  distant  wood, 
The  holy  Ganga,  flowing  by  the  way, 
Raised  all  her  hands  of  waves  to  bid  him  stay. 
At  length  with  sobs  and  burning  tears  that  rolled 
Down  his  sad  face,  the  king's  command  he  told  ; 
As  when  a  monstrous  cloud,  in  evil  hour, 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  529 

Rains  from  its  labouring  womb  a  stony  shower. 

She  heard,  she  swooned,  she  fell  upon  the  earth, 

Fell  on  that  bosom  whence  she  sprang  to  birth, 

As,  when  the  tempest  in  its  fury  flies, 

Low  in  the  dust  the  prostrate  creeper  lies, 

So,  struck  with  terror  sank  she  on  the  ground, 

And  all  her  gems,  like  flowers,  lay  scattered  round. 

But  Earth,  her  mother,  closed  her  stony  breast, 

And,  filled  with  doubt,  denied  her  daughter  rest. 

She  would  not  think  the  Chief  of  Raghu's  race 

Would  thus  his  own  dear  guiltless  wife  disgrace. 

Stunned  and  unconscious,  long  the  lady  lay, 

And  felt  no  grief,  her  senses  all  astray. 

But  gentle  Lakshman,  with  a  brother's  care, 

Brought  back  her  sense,  and  with  her  sense,  despair. 

But  not  her  wrongs,  her  shame,  her  grief,  could  wring^ 

One  angry  word  against  her  lord  the  King  : 

Upon  herself  alone  the  blame  she  laid, 

For  tears  and  sighs  that  would  not  yet  be  stayed. 

To  soothe  her  anguish  Lakshman  gently  strove  ; 

He  showed  the  path  to  Saint  Valmiki's  grove ; 

And  craved  her  pardon  for  the  share  of  ill 

He  wrought,  obedient  to  his  brother's  will, 

'  O,  long  and  happy,  dearest  brother,  live  1 

I  have  to  praise',  she  cried,  '  and  not  forgive  : 

To  do  his  will  should  be  thy  noblest  praise  ; 

As  Vishnu  ever  Indra's  will  obeys. 

Return,  dear  brother :  on  each  royal  dame 

Bestow  a  blessing  in  poor  Sita's  name, 

And  bid  them,  in  their  love,  kind  pity  take 

Upon  her  offspring,  for  the  father's  sake. 

And  speak  my  message  in  the  monarch's  ear, 

The  last  last  words  of  mine  that  he  shall  hear : 

'  Say,  was  it  worthy  of  thy  noble  race 

Thy  guiltless  queen  thus  lightly  to  disgrace  2 

For  idle  tales  to  spurn  thy  faithful  bride, 

Whose  constant  truth  the  searching  tire  had  tried  ? 

Or  may  I  hope  thy  soul  refused  consent, 

And  but  thy  voice  decreed  my  banishment  ? 

Hope  that  no  care  could  turn,  no  love  could  stay 

The  lightning  stroke  that  falls  on  me  to-day? 

That  sins  committed  in  the  life  that's  fled 

Have  brought  this  evil  on  my  guilty  head  ? 

Think  not  I  value  now  my  widowed  life, 

Worthless  to  her  who  once  was  Kama's  wife. 

I  only  live  because  I  hope  to  see 

The  dear  dear  babe  that  will  resemble  thee. 

And  then  niy  task  of  penance  shall  be  done, 


530  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

With  eyes  uplifted  to  the  scorching  sun; 

So  shall  the  life  that  is  to  come  restore 

Mine  own  dear  husband,  to  be  lost  no  more.* 

And  Lakshman  swore  her  every  word  to  tell, 

Then  turned  to  go,  and  bade  the  queen  farewell. 

Alone  with  all  her  woes,  her  piteous  cries 

Rose  like  a  butchered  lamb's  that  struggling  dies. 

The  reverend  sage  who  from  his  dwelling  came 

For  sacred  grass  and  wood  to  feed  the  flame, 

Heard  her  loud  shrieks  that  rent  the  echoing  wood, 

And,  quickly  following,  by  the  mourner  stood, 

Before  the  sage  the  lady  bent  her  low, 

Dried  her  poor  eyes,  and  strove  to  calm  her  woe. 

With  blessings  on  her  hopes  the  blameless  man 

In  silver  tones  his  soothing  speech  began  : 

'  First  of  all  faithful  wives,  0  Queen,  art  thou  ; 

And  can  I  fail  to  mourn  thy  sorrows  now  ? 

Rest  in  this  holy  grove,  nor  harbour  fear 

Where  dwell  in  safety  e'en  the  timid  deer. 

Here  shall  thine  offspring  safely  see  the  light, 

And  be  partaker  of  each  holy  rite. 

Here,  near  the  hermits'  dwellings,  shalt  thou  lave 

Thy  limbs  in  Tonse's  sin-destroying  wave, 

And  on  her  isles,  by  prayer  and  worship,  gain 

Sweet  peace  of  mind,  and  rest  from  care  and  pain. 

Each  hermit  maiden  with  her  sweet  soft  voice, 

Shall  soothe  thy  woe,  and  bid  thy  heart  rejoice  : 

With  fruit  and  early  flowers  thy  lap  shall  fill, 

And  offer  grain  that  springs  for  us  at  will. 

And  here,  with  labour  light,  thy  task  shall  be 

To  water  carefully  each  tender  tree, 

Arid  learn  how  sweet  a  nursing  mother's  joy 

Ere  on  thy  bosom  rest  thy  darling  boy.' 

That  very  night  the  banished  Sita  bare 
Two  royal  children,  most  divinely  fair. 

The  saint  Valmiki,  with  a  friend's  delight, 
Graced  Sita's  offspring  with  each  holy  rite. 
Kusa  and  Lava — such  the  names  they  bore — 
Learnt,  e'en  in  childhood,  all  the  Vedas'  lore  ; 
And  then  the  bard,  their  minstrel  souls  to  train, 
Taught  them  to  sing  his  own  immortal  strain. 
And  Rama's  deeds  her  boys  so  sweetly  sang, 
That  Sita's  breast  forgot  her  bitterest  pang. 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  .SSI 

Then  Sita's  children,  by  the  saint's  command, 
Sang  the  Ramayan,  wandering  through  the  land. 
How  could  the  glorious  poem  fail  to  gain 
Each  heart,  each  ear  that  listened  to  the  strain! 
So  sweet  each  minstrel's  voice  who  sang  the  praise 
Of  Rama  deathless  in  Valmiki's  lays. 
£&nia  himself  amid  the'wondering  throng 
Marked  their  fair  forms,  and  loved  the  noble  song, 
While,  still  and  weeping,  round  the  nobles  stood, 
AP,  on  a  windless  morn,  a  dewy  wood. 
On  the  two  minstrels  all  the  people  gazed, 
Praised  their  fair  looks  and  marvelled  as  they  praised  ; 
For  every  eye  amid  the  throng  could  trace 
Rama's  own  image  in  each  youthful  face. 
Then  spoke  the  king  himself  and  bade  them  say 
Who  was  their  teacher,  whose  the  wondrous  lay. 
Soon  as  Valmiki,  mighty  saint,  he  saw, 
He  bowed  his  head  in  reverential  awe. 
*  These  are  thy  children'  cried  the  saint,  '  recall 
Thine  own  dear  Sita,  pure  and  true  through  all. 
'  O  holy  father,'  thus  the  king  replied, 
'  The  faithful  lady  by  the  fire  Was  tried  ; 
But  the  foul  demon's  too  successful  arts 
Eaised  light  suspicions  in  my  people's  hearts* 
Grant  that  their  breasts  may  doubt  her  faith  no  more, 
And  thus  my  Sita  and  her  sons  restore.' 

RagJiuvahsa  Cantos  XI V,  XV. 

PARAgURAMA,  PAGE  87. 

c  He  cleared  the  earth  thrice  seven  times  of  the  Kshatriya  caste,  and  filled 
with  their  blood  the  five  large  lakes  of  Samanta,  from  which  he  offered  libations 
to  the  race  of  Bhrigu.  Offering  a  solemn  sacrifice  to  the  King  of  the  Gods 
Parasurama  presented  the  earth  to  the  ministering  priests.  Having  given  the 
earth  to  Kaayapa,  the  hero  of  immeasurable  prowess  retired  to  the  Mahendra 
mountain,  where  he  still  resides  ;  and  in  this  manner  was  there  enmity  between 
him  and  the  race  of  the  Kshatriyas,  and  thus  was  the  whole  earth  conquered  by 
Parasur&ma.'  The  destruction  of  the  Kshatriyas  by  Parasurama  had  been 
provoked  by  the  cruelty  of  the  Kshatriyas.  Chips  from  a  German  Workshop, 
Vol.  II.  p.  334. 

The  scene  in  which  he  appears  is  probably  interpolated  for  the  sake  of 
making  him  declare  Kama  to  be  Vishnu.  '  Herr  von  Schlegel  has  often  remark- 
ed to  me,'  says  Lassen,  '  that  without  injuring  the  connexion  of  the  story  all 
the  chapters  [of  the  Ramayan]  might  be  omitted  in  which  Rama  is  regarded  as 
an  incarnation  of  Vishnu.  In  fact,  where  the  incarnation  of  Vishnu  as  the  four 
sons  of  Dasaratba  is  described,  the  great  sacrifice  is  already  ended,  and  all  the 
priests  remunerated  at  the  termination,  when  the  new  sacrifice  begins  at  which 
the  Gods  appear,  then  withdraw,  and  then  first  propose  the  inearnation  to  Vishnu. 
36 


552  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

If  it  had  been  an  original  circumstance  of  the  story,  the  Gods  would  certainly 
have  deliberated  on  the  matter  earlier,  and  the  celebration  of  the  sacrifice  would 
have  continued  without  interruption.'  LASSEN,  Indische  Alterthumskunde,  Vol.  /. 

p.  489. 

YAMA,  PAGE  68. 

Son  of  Vivaavat=Jima  son  of  Vivanghvat,  the  Jamshid  of  the  later 

Persians. 

FATE,  PAGE  68. 

'  The  idea  of  fate  was  different  in  India  from  that  which  prevailed  in 
Greece.  In  Greece  fate  was  a  mysterious,  inexorable  power  which  governed 
men  and  human  events,  and  from  which  it  was  impossible  to  escape.  In  India 
Fate  was  rather  an  inevitable  consequence  of  actions  done  in  births  antecedent 
to  one's  present  state  of  existence,  and  was  therefore  connected  with  the  doctrine 
of  metempsychosis.  A  misfortune  was  for  the  most  part  a  punishment,  an  ex- 
piation of  ancient  faults  not  yet  entirely  cancelled.'  GORRESIO. 


PAGE  76. 

'Though  of  royal  extraction,  Visvamitra  conquered  for  himself  and  his 
family  the  privileges  of  a  Brahman.  He  became  a  Brahman,  and  thus  broke 
through  all  the  rules  of  caste.  The  Brahmans  cannot  deny  the  fact,  because  it 
forms  one  of  the  principal  subjects  of  their  legendary  poems.  But  they  have 
spared  no  pains  to  represent  the  exertions  of  Visvamitra,  in  his  struggle  for 
Brahmanhood,  as  so  superhuman  that  no  one  would  easily  be  tempted  to  follow 
his  example.  No  mention  is  made  of  these  monstrous  penances  in  the  Veda, 
where  the  struggle  between  Visvamitra,  the  leader  of  the  Kusikas  or  Bharatas, 
and  the  Brahman  Vasishtha,  the  leader  of  the  white-robed  Tritsus,  is  represented 
as  the  struggle  of  two  rivals  for  the  place  of  Purohita  or  chief  priest  and  minister 
at  the  court  of  King  Sudas,  the  son  of  Pijavana.'  Chips  from  a  German  Work- 
shop, Vol.  II.  p.  336. 

HOUSEHOLD  GODS,  PAGE  102. 

*  No  house  is  supposed  to  be  without  its  tutelary  divinity,  but  the  notion 
attached  to  this  character  is  now  very  far  from  precise.  The  deity  who  is  the 
object  of  hereditary  and  family  worship,  the  Kuladevatd,  is  always  one  of  the 
leading  personages  of  the  Hindu  mythology,  as  Siva,  Vishnu  or  Durga,  but  the 
Grihadevatd  rarely  bears  any  distinct  apptjllation.  In  Bengal,  the  domestic  god 
is  sometimes  the  Sdlagrdm  stone,  sometimes  the  tulasi  plant,  sometimes  a 
basket  with  a  little  rice  in  it,  and  sometimes  a  water-  jar  —  to  either  of  whic  i  a 
brief  adoration  is  daily  addressed,  most  usually  by  the  females  of  the  family. 
Occasionally  small  images  of  Lakshmi  or  Chandi  fulfil  the  office,  or  should  a 
snake  appear,  he  is  venerated  as  the  guardian  of  the  dwelling.  In  general, 
however,  in  former  times,  the  household  deities  were  regarded  as  the  unseen 
spirits  of  ill,  the  ghosts  and  goblins  who  hovered  about  every  spot,  and  claimed 
some  particular  sites  as  their  own.  Offerings  were  made  to  them  in  the  open  air, 
by  scattering  a  little  rice  with  a  short  formula  at  the  close  of  all  ceremonies  to 
keep  them  in  good  humour. 

The  household  gods  correspond  better  with  the  genii  locorum  than  with  the 
lares  or  penatea  of  antiquity.' 

H.  H.  WILSON. 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  533 

PAGE  107. 

Saivya,  a  king  whom  earth  obeyed, 
Once  to  a  hawk  a  promise  made. 

The  following  is  a  free  version  of  this  very  ancient  story  which  occurs  mor« 
than  once  in  the  Mahdbhdrat : 

THE  SUPPLIANT  DOVE. 
Chased  by  a  hawk  there  came  a  dove 

With  worn  and  weary  wing, 
And  took  her  stand  upon  the  hand 

Of  Kasi's  mighty  king. 
The  monarch  smoothed  her  ruffled  plumes 

And  laid  her  on  his  breast, 
And  cried,  *  No  fear  shall  vex  thee  here, 

Rest,  pretty  egg-born,  rest ! 
Fair  Kasi's  realm  is  rich  and  wide, 

With  golden  harvests  gay, 
But  all  that's  mine  will  I  resign 

Ere  I  my  guest  betray.' 
But  panting  for  his  half  won  spoil 

The  hawk  was  close  behind. 
And  with  wild  cry  and  eager  eye 

Came  swooping  down  the  wind  : 
1  This  bird',  he  cried,   '  my  destined  prize, 

'Tis  not  for  thee  to  shield  : 
'Tis  mine  by  right  and  toilsome  flight 

O'er  hill  and  dale  and  field. 
Hunger  and  thirst  oppress  me  sore, 

And  I  am  faint  with  toil  : 
Thou  shouldst  not  stay  a  bird  of  prey 

Who  claims  his  rightful  spoil. 
They  say  thou  art  a  glorious  king, 

And  justice  is  thy  care  : 
Then  justly  reign  in  thy  domain, 

Nor  rob  the  birds  of  air.' 
Then  cried  the  king  :  '  A  cow  or  deer 

For  thee  shall  straightway  bleed, 
Or  let  a  ram  or  tender  lamb 

Be  slain,  for  thee  to  feed. 
Mine  oath  forbids  me  to  betray 

My  little  twice-born  guest : 
See  how  she  clings  with  trembling  wing* 

To  her  protector's  breast,' 
'  No  flesh  of  lambs,'  the  hawk  replied, 

*  No  blood  of  deer  for  me  ; 
The  falcon  loves  to  feed  on  doves, 

And  such  is  Heaven's  decree. 
But  if  affection  for  the  dove 


534  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

Thy  pitying  heart  has  stirred, 
Let  thine  own  flesh  my  maw  refresh, 

Weighed  down  against  the  bird,' 
He  carved  the  flesh  from  off  his  side, 

And  threw  it  in  the  scale, 
While  women's  cries  smote  on  the  skies 

With  loud  lament  and  wail. 
He  hacked  the  flesh  from  side  and  arm, 

From  chest  and  back  and  thigh, 
But  still  above  the  little  dove 

The  monarch's  scale  stood  high. 
He  heaped  the  scale  with  piles  of  flesh, 

With  sinews,  blood,  and  skin, 
And  when  alone  was  left  him  bone 

He  threw  himself  therein. 
Then  thundered  voices  through  the  air  j 

The  sky  grew  black  as  night ; 
And  fever  took  the  earth  that  shook 

To  see  that  wondrous  sight. 
The  blessed  Gods,  from  every  sphere, 

By  Indra  led.  came  nigh  : 
While  drum  and  flute  and  shell  and  lute 

Made  music  in  the  sky. 
They  rained  immortal  chaplets  down, 

Which^hands  celestial  twine, 
And  softly  shed  upon  his  head 

Pure  Amrit,  drink  divine. 
Then  God  and  Seraph,  Bard  and  Nymph 

Their  heavenly  voices  raised, 
And  a  glad  throng  with  dance  and  song 

The  glorious  monarch  praised. 
They  set  him  on  a  golden  car 

That  blazed  with  many  a  gem  ; 
Then  swiftly  through  the  air  they  flew, 

And  bore  him  home  with  them. 
Thus  Kasi's  lord,  by  noble  deed, 

Won  heaven  and  deathless  fame  : 
And  when  the  weak  protection  seek 

From  thee,  do  thou  the  same. 

Scenes  from  the  Rdmdyan,  #c. 

PAGE  108. 

The  ceremonies  that  attended  the  consecration  of  a  king  ( AWiiksTiepa  lit. 
Sprinkling  over)  are  fully  described  in  Goldstiioker's  Dictionary,  from  which  the 
following  extract  is  made:  'The  type  of  the  inauguration  ceremony  as  practised 
at  the  Epic  period  may  probably  be  recognized  in  the  history  of  the  inauguration 
of  Rama,  as  told  in  the  Rdmdyana,  and  in  that  of  the  inauguration  of  Yudhigh- 
thira,  as  told  in  the  Makdbhdrata.  Neither  ceremony  is  described  in  these  poems 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  535 

with  the  full  detail  which  is  given  of  the  vaidik  rite  in  the  Aitareya-Brdhmanam; 
but  the  allusion  that  Rama  was  inaugurated  by  Vasishtha  and  the  other  Brah- 

manas  in  the  same  manner  as Indra  by  the  Vasus and  the  observation  which 

is  made  in  some  passages  that  a  certain  rite  of  the  inauguration  was  performed 

*  according  to  the  sacred  rule' admit  of  the  conclusion  that  the  ceremony 

was  supposed  to  have  taken  place  in  conformity  with  the  vaidik  injunction 

As  the  inauguration  of  Rama  was  intended  and  the  necessary  preparations  for  it 
•were  made  when  his  father  Dasaratha  was  still  alive,  but  as  the  ceremony  itself, 
through  the  intrigues  of  his  step-mother  Jtaikeyi,  did  not  take  place  then,  but 
fourteen  years  later,  after  the  death  of  DasaratJia,  an  account  of  the  preparatory 
•ceremonies  is  given  in  the  Ayodhydkdnda  (Book  II.)  as  well  as  in  the  Yuddha- 
JKdnda,  (Book  VI.)  of  the  Ramayana,  but  an  account  of  the  complete  ceremony 
in  the  latter  book  alone.  According  to  the  Ayodhydkdnda,  on  the  day  preceding 
the  intended  inauguration  Rdma  and  his  wife  Sitd  held  a  fast,  and  in  the 
night  they  performed  this  preliminary  rite:  Rama  having  made  his  ablutions, 
approached  the  idol  of  IVdrdyana,  took  a  cup  of  clarified  butter,  as  the 
religious  law  prescribes,  made  a  libation  of  it  into  the  kindled  fire,  and  drank 
the  remainder  while  wishing  what  was  agreeable  to  his  heart.  Then,  with  his 
mind  fixed  on  the  divinity  he  lay,  silent  and  composed,  together  with  Sitd,  on  a 
bed  of  Kusa-grass,  which  was  spread  before  the  altar  of  Vishnu,  until  the  last 
watch  of  the  night,  when  he  awoke  and  ordered  the  palace  to  be  prepared  for 
the  solemnity.  At  day-break  reminded  of  the  time  by  the  voices  of  the  bards, 
he  performed  the  usual  morning  devotion  and  praised  the  divinity.  In  the 
meantime  the  town  Ayodhya  had  assumed  a  festive  appearance  and  the  in- 
auguration implements  had  been  arranged golden  water-jars,  an  orna- 
mented throne-seat,  a  chariot  covered  with  a  splendid  tiger-skin,  water  taken 
from  the  confluence  of  the  Ganges  and  Jumna,  as  well  as  from  other  sacred 
rivers,  tanks,  wells,  lakes,  and  from  all  oceans,  honey,  curd,  clarified  butter, 
fried  grain,  Kusa.-grass,  flowers,  milk;  besides,  eight  beautiful  damsels,  and  a 
splendid  furious  elephant:  golden  and  silver  jars,  filled  with  water,  covered  with 
Udumbara  branches  and  various  lotus  flowers,  besides  a  white  jewelled  chourie, 
a  white  splendid  parasol,  a  white  bull,  a  white  horse,  all  manner  of  musical 

instruments  and  bards In  the  preceding  chapter....  ..there  are  mentioned 

two  white  chouries  instead  of  one,  and  all  kinds  of  seeds,  perfumes  and  jewels,  a 
scimitar,  a  bow,  a  litter,  a  golden  vase,  and  a  blazing  fire,  and  amongst  the 
living  implements  of  the  pageant,  instead  of  the  bards,  gaudy  courtesans,  and 
besides  the  eight  damsels,  professors  of  divinity,  Brahmanas,  cows  and  pure 
kinds  of  wild  beasts  and  birds,  the  chiefs  of  town  and  country-people  and  the 

citizens  with  their  train.' 

PAGE  109. 

Then  with  the  royal  chaplains  they 
Took  each  his  place  in  long  array. 

The  twice-horn  chiefs,  with  zealous  heed, 

Made  ready  what  the  rite  would  need. 

4  Now  about  the  office  of  a  Purohita  (house-priest).  The  gods  do  not  eat 
the  food  offered  by  a  king,  who  has  no  house-priest  (Purohita).  Thence  the 
king  even  when  (not)  intending  to  bring  a  sacrifice,  should  appoint  a  Brahman 
to  the  office  of  house-priest.'  HAUG'S  Altareya  Brdhmanam.  Vol.  II.  p.  528. 


536  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

PAGE  110. 

There  by  the  gate  the  Sdras  screamed. 

The  Sdras  or  Indian  Crane  is  a  magnificent  bird  easily  domesticated  and 
speedily  constituting  himself  the  watchman  of  his  master's  house  and  garden. 
Unfortunately  he  soon  becomes  a  troublesome  and  even  dangerous  dependent, 
attacking  strangers  with  his  long  bill  and  powerful  wings,  and  warring  especially 
upon  '  small  infantry'  with  unrelenting  ferocity. 

PAGE  120. 
My  mothers  or  my  sire  the  Icing. 

All  the  wives  of  the  king  his  father  are  regarded  and  spoken  of  by  R&m* 
as  his  mothers. 

PAGE  125. 

Such  blessings  as  the  Gods  o'er  joyed 
Poured  forth  when,  Vritra  was  destroyed. 

'  Mythology  regards  Yritra  as  a  demon  or  Asur,  the  implacable  enemy  of 
Indra,  but  this  is  not  the  primitive  idea  contained  in  the  name  of  Vritra.  In 
the  hymns  of  the  Veda  Vritra  appears  to  be  the  thick  dark  cloud  which  Indra. 
the  God  of  the  firmament  attacks  and  disperses  with  his  thunderbolt.'  GORRESIO. 

'In  that  class  of  Rig-veda  hymns  which  there  is  reason  to  look  upon  as 
the  oldest  portion  of  Vedic  poetry,  the  character  of  Indra  is  that  of  a  mighty 
ruler  of  the  firmament,  and  his  principal  feat  is  that  of  conquering  the  demon 
Vritra,  a  symbolical  personification  of  the  cloud  which  obstructs  the  clearness 
of  the  sky,  and  withholds  the  fructifying  rain  from  the  earth.  In  his  battles 
•with  Vritra  he  is  therefore  described  as  '  opening  the  receptacles  of  the  waters,' 
as  '  cleaving  the  cloud'  with  his  '  far-whirling  thunderbolt,'  as  *  casting  the-  waters 
down  to  earth,'  and  *  restoring  the  sun  to  the  sky.'  He  is  in  consequence  '  the 
upholder  of  heaven,  earth,  and  firmament,'  and  the  god  '  who  has  engendered 
the  sun  and  the  dawn.'  CHAMBKBS'S  CYCLOPAEDIA.  Indra. 

*  Throughout  these  hymns  two  images  stand  out  before  us  with  overpower- 
ing distinctness.    On  one  side  is  the  bright  god  of  the  heaven,  as  beneficent  as 
he  is  irresistible;  on  the  other  the  demon  of  night  and  of   darkness,  as  false  and 
treachorous  as  be  is  malignant  .........  The  latter  (as  his  name  Vritra,  from  var,  to 

veil,  indicates)  is  pre-eminently  the  thief  who  hides  away  the  rain-clouds  .........  But 

the  myth  is  yet  in  too  early  a  state  to  allow  of  the  definite  designations  which  are 
brought  before  us  in  the  conflicts  of  Zeus  with  Typhon  and  his  monstrous 
progeny,  of  Apollon  with  the  Python,  of  Bellerophonwith.  Chimaira  of  Oidipous 
with  the  Sphinx,  of  Hercules  with  Cacus,  of  Sigurd  with  the  dragon  Fafnir;  and 
thus  not  only  is  Vritra  known  by  many  names,  but  he  is  opposed  sometimes  by 
Indra,  sometimes  by  Agni  the  fire-god,  sometimes  by  Trita,  Brihaspati,  or  other 
deities  j  or  rather  these  are  all  names  of  one  and  the  same  god  : 


owi;     vojULCLTwv 

Cox's  Mythology  of  the  Aryan  Nations.     Vol.  II.  p.  386  1 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  557 

PAGE  125. 

And  that  prized  herb  whose  sovereign  power 
Preserves  from  dark  misfortune's  hour. 
•  And  yet  more  med'cinal  is  it  than  that  Moly, 
That  Hermes  once  to  wise  Ulysses  gave  ; 
He  called  it  Hasmony,  and  gave  it  me, 
And  bade  me  keep  it  as  of  sovereign  use 
'  Gainst  all  enchantment,  mildew,  blast,  or  damp, 
Or  ghastly  furies'  apparition.'  Comus. 

The  Moly  of  Homer,  which  Dierbach  considers  to  have  been  the  Mandrake, 
is  probably  a  corruption  of  the  Sanskrit  Mula  a  root. 

PAGE  136. 

True  is  the  ancient  saw  :  the  Neem 
Can  ne'er  distil  a  honeyed  stream. 

The  Neem  tree,  especially  in  the  Rains,  emits  a  strong  unpleasant  smell 
like  that  of  onions.  Its  leaves  however  make  an  excellent  cooling  poultice,  and 
the  Extract  of  Neem  is  an  admirable  remedy  for  cutaneous  disorders. 

PAGE  152. 

Who  of  Nishdda  lineage  came. 

The  following  account  of  the  origin  of  the  Nishadas  is  taken  from  Wilson's 
Vishnu  Purdna,  Book  I.  Chap.  15.  'Afterwards  the  Munis  beheld  a  great  dust 
arise,  and  they  said  to  the  people  who  were  nigh  :"  What  is  this?"  And  the 
people  answered  and  said  :  "  Now  that  the  kingdom  is  without  a  king,  the  dis- 
honest men  have  begun  to  seize  the  property  of  their  neighbours.  The  great 
dust  that  you  behold,  excellent  Munis,  is  raised  by  troops  of  clustering  robbers, 
hastening  to  fall  upon  their  prey."  The  sages,  hearing  this,  consulted,  and 
together  rubbed  the  thigh  of  the  king  (Vena),  who  had  left  no  offspring,  to 
produce  a  son.  From  the  thigh,  thus  rubbed,  came  forth  a  being  of  the  com- 
.plexion  of  a  charred  stake,  with  flattened  features  (like  a  negro),  and  of  dwarfish 
stature.  "  What  am  I  to  do,"  cried  he  eagerly  to  the  Munis.  "  Sit  down  (nishida)," 
said  they.  And  thence  his  name  was  Nishada.  His  descendants,  the  inhabitants 
of  the  Vindhya  mountain,  great  Muni,  are  still  called  Nishadas  and  are  charac- 
terized by  the  exterior  tokens  of  depravity.'  Professor  Wilson  adds,  in  his  note  on 
the  passage  :  '  The  Matsya  says  that  there  were  born  outcast  or  barbarous  races, 
Mlechchhas,  as  black  as  collyrium.  The  Bhagavata  describes  an  individual  of 
dwartish  stature,  with  short  arms  and  legs,  of  a  complexion  as  black  as  a  crow, 
with  projecting  chin,  broad  flat  nose,  red  eyes,  and  tawny  hair,  whose  descen- 
dants were  mountaineers  and  foresters.  The  Padma  (Bhumi  Khanda)  has  a 
similar  description  ;  adding  to  the  dwarfish  stature  and  black  complexion,  a 
wide  mouth,  large  ears,  and  a  protuberant  belly.  It  also  particularizes  his  post- 
erity as  Nishadas,  Kiratas,  Bhillas,  and  other  barbarians  and  Mlechchhas,  living 
in  woods  and  on  mountains.  These  passages  intend,  and  do  not  much  exaggerate, 
the  uncouth  appearance  of  the  Gonds,  Koles,  Bhils,  and  other  uncivilized  tribes, 
scattered  along  the  forests  and  mountains  of  Central  India  from  Behar  to  Khan- 
desh,  and  who  are,  not  improbably,  the  predecessors  of  the  present  occupants  of 
the  cultivated  portions  of  the  country.  They  are  always  very  black,  ill-shapen, 
and  dwarfish,  and  have  countenances  of  a  very  African  character.' 


538  ADDITIONAL 


Manu  gives  a  different  origin  of  the  Nishadas  as  the  offspring  of  a  Br&hman 
father  and  a  £udra  mother.  See  Muir's  Sanskrit  Texts,  Vol.  I.  p.  481. 

PAGE  157. 

Beneath  a  fig-tree's  mighty  shade, 
With  countless  pendent  shoots  displayed. 
'  So  counselled  he,  and  both  together  went 
Into  the  thickest  wood  ;  there  soon  they  chose 
The  fig-tree  :  not  that  kind  for  fruit  renowned, 
But  such  as  at  this  day,  to  Indians  known, 
In  Malabar  or  Deccan  spreads  her  arms 
Branching  so  broad  and  long,  that  in  the  ground 
The  bended  twigs  take  root,  and  daughters  grow 
About  the  mother  tree,  a  pillared  shade 
High  overarched,  and  echoing  walks  between.' 

Paradise  Lost,  Book  IX 
PAGE  161. 

Now,  LaJcshman,  as  our  cot  is  made, 
Must  sacrifice  be  duly  paid. 

The  rites  performed  in  India  on  the  completion  of  a  house  are  represented 
in  modern  Europe  by  the  familiar  '  house-warming.' 

PAGE  169. 

/  longed  with  all  my  lawless  will 
Some  elephant  by  night  to  kill. 

One  of  the  regal  or  military  caste  was  forbidden  to  kill  an  elephant  except 
in  battle. 

Thy  hand  has  made  no  Brahman  bleed. 

'The  punishment  which  the  Code  of  Manu  awards  to  the  slayer  of  a 
Brahman  was  to  be  branded  in  the  forehead  with  the  mark  of  a  headless  corpse, 
and  entirely  banished  from  society;  this  being  apparently  coinmutable  for  a  fine. 
The  poem  is  therefore  in  accordance  with  the  Code  regarding  the  peculiar  guilt 
of  killing  Brahmans;  but  in  allowing  a  hermit  who  was  not  a  Dwija  (twice-born) 
to  go  to  heaven,  the  poem  is  far  in  advance  of  the  Code.  The  youth  in  the  poem 
is  allowed  to  read  the  Veda,  and  to  accumulate  merit  by  his  own  as  well  as  his 
father's  pious  acts  ;  whereas  the  exclusive  Code  reserves  all  such  privileges  to 
Dnijas  invested  with  the  sacred  cord.'  Mrs.  SPEIR'S  Life  in  Ancient  India,  p.  107. 

PAGE  174. 

THE  PRAISE  OF  KINGS. 

'  Compare  this  magnificent  eulogium  of  kings  and  kingly  government  with 
what  Samuel  says  of  the  king  and  his  authority  :  And  Samuel  told  all  the  words 
of  the  LORD  unto  the  people  that  asked  of  him  a  king. 

And  he  said,  This  will  be  the  manner  of  the  king  that  shall  reign  over  you: 
He  will  take  your  sons,  and  appoint  them  for  himself,  for  his  chariots,  and  to 
be  his  horsemen;  and  some  shall  run  before  his  chariots. 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  539 

And  he  will  appoint  iiim  captains  over  thousands,  and  captains  over  fifties, 
and  Will  set  them  to  ear  his  ground,  and  to  reap  His  harvest,  and  to  make  his  in- 
strument of  war,  and  instruments  of  his  chariots. 

And  he  will  take  your  daughters  to  be  confectionaries,  and  to  be  cooks, 
and  to  be  bakers. 

And  he  will  take  your  fields,  and  your  vineyards  and  your  oliveyards,  even 
the  best  of  themj  and  give"  them  to  his  servants; 

And  he  will  take  the  tenth  of  your  seed,  and  of  your  vineyards*  and  give 
to  his  officers,  and  to  his  servants. 

And  he  Will  take  your  men-servants,  and  yoilr  maid-servants,  *nd  your 
goodliest  young  men,  and  your  asses,  a"nd  put  them  to  his  work. 

He  will  take  the  tenth  of  your  sheep  :  and  ye  shall  be  his  servants. 

And  ye  shall  cry  out  in  that  day  because  of  your  king  which  ye  shall  have 
chosen  you.  I.  Samuel,  VIII. 

In  India  kingly  government  was  ancient  and  consecrated  by  tradition : 
•whence  to  change  it  seemed  disorderly  and  revolutionary :  in  Judsea  theocracy 
was  ancient  and  consecrated  by  tradition,  and  therefore  the  innovation  which 
would  substitute  a  king  was  Represented  as  full  of  dangers.'    GOKRKSIO* 
gALMALI,   PAGE  r,  6. 

According  to  the  Bengal  recension  $almali  appears  to  have  been  another 
name  of  the  Vipasa.  &Unialimay  be  an  epithet  signifying  rich  in  Bombax 
heptaphyllon.  The  commentator  makes  another  river  out  of  the  word* 

BHARAT'S  RETURN,   PAGE  178. 

•Two  routes  from  Ayodhya  to  Rajagriha  or  Girivraja  are  described.  That 
taken  by  the  envoys  appears  to  have  been  the  shorter  one,  and  we  are  dot  uold 
why  Bharat  returned  by  a  different  road.  The  capital  of  the  Kekayas  lay  to  the 
west  of  the  Vipasa*  Between  it  and  the  £atadru  stretched  the  country  of  the 
B&hikas.  Upon  the  remaining  portion  of  the  road  the  two  recensions  differ. 
According  to  that  of  Bengal  there  follow  towards  the  east  the  river  Indamati, 
then  the  town  Ajakala  belonging  to  the  Bodhi,  then  Bhulinga,  then  the  river 
£aradan4&.  According  to  the  other  instead  of  the  first  river  comes  the  Ikshu- 

matl ....instead  of  the  first  toWn  Abhikala,  instead  of  the  second  i£ulittga,  then 

the  second  river.    According  to  the  direction  of  the  route  both  the  above-men- 
tioned rivers  must  be  tributaries  of  the  3atadru The  road  then  crossed  the 

Yamuna  (Jumna),  led  beyond  that  river  through  the  Country  of  the  Panchalas,  and 
reached  the  Ganges  at  Hastinapufa,  where  the  ferry  was*  Thence  it  led  over  the 
Bamaganga  and  its  eastern  tributaries,  then  over  the  Gromati,  and  then  in  a 
southern  direction  along  the  Malini,  beyond  which  it  reached  Ayodhya.  la 
Bliarat's  journey  the  following  rivers  are  passed  from  west  to  east:  Kutikoshtikd, 
Uttdnikd,  KutiM,  Kapivati,  Gomati  according  to  Schlegel,  and  Hiranyavatit 
Uttdrikd,  Xutildy  Kapivati,  Gomati  according  to  Gorresio.  As  these  rivers  are 
to  be  looked  for  on  the  east  of  the  Ganges,  the  first  must  be  the  modern  Koh, 
a  small  affluent  of  the  Ramaganga,  over  Which  the  highway  cannot  have  gone  as 
it  bends  too  far  to  the  north.  The  tfttaiiika  oi<  Uttarika  must  be  the  Itamaganga, 
the  Kutika  or  Kutila  its  eastern  tributary  Kosila,  the  Kapivati  the  next 
tributary  which  on  the  maps  has  different  names,  Crurra  or  above  Kailas, 
37 


540  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

lower  down  Bliaigu.  The  Gomati  (Goomtee)  retains  its  old  name.  The  Malini, 
mentioned  only  in  the  envoys'  journey,  must  have  been  the  western  tributary- 
of  the  Sarayu  now  called  ChukaV  LASSEN'S  Indische  Alterthumskunde,  Vol.  II. 

p,  524* 

PAGE  183. 

What  Worlds  await  thee^  Queen,  for  this  ? 

'  Indian  belief  divided  the  universe  into  several  worlds  (lokdh).  The 
three  principal  worlds  were  heaven,  earth,  and  hell.  But  according  to  another 
division  there  wete  seven  :  Bhurloka  or  the  earth,  Bhuvarloka  or  the  space  be- 
tween  the  earth  and  the  sun,  the  seat  of  the  Munis*  Siddhas,  &c.,  Svarloka  or  the 
heaven  of  Indra  between  the  sun  and  the  polar  star,  and  the  seventh  Brahmaloka 
or  the  world  of  Brahma.  Spirits  which  reached  the  last  were.exempt  from  being 
born  again*'  GORRESIO. 

PAGE  203. 

When  from  a  million  herbs  a  blaze 
Of  their  own  luminous  glory  plays. 

This  mention  df  lambent  flames  emitted  by  herbs  at  night  may  be  com- 
pared  with  Lucan's  description  of  a  similar  phenomenon  in  the  Druidicai  forest 
near  Marseilles,  (Pliarsalia,  III.  420J. 

Non  ardentis  fulgere  incendia  silvae. 

Seneca,  speaking  of  Argolis,  (Thyestes,  Act  IV) y  says  :— 

Tota  solet 
Micare  flatnma  silva,  et  excelsae  trabes 


Thus  also  the  bush  at  Horeb  (Exod.  II.)  flamed,  btit  was  not  consumed. 
The  Indian  explanation  of  the  phenomenon  is,  that  the  sun  before  he  pets 
deposits  his  rays  for  the  night  with  the  deciduous  plants.    See  Journal  of  R.  As. 
S.  Bengal.  Vol.  II.  p.  339. 

PAGE  219. 
We  rank  the  Buddhist  with  the  thief. 

Schlegel  says  in  his  Preface :' LubriCo  vestigio  insistit  V.  Cl.  iteefenius^ 
prof.  Gottingensis,  in  libro  suo  de  commerciis  veterum  poputorum  (OPP.  Vol. 
HIST.  XII,  pag.  129,)  dum  putat,  ex  mentione  sectatorura  Buddhae  secundo 
libro  Rameidos  iniecta  de  tempore,  quo  totum  carmen  sit  conditum,  quicquam 

legitime  concludi  posse Sunt  versus  spurii,  reiecti  a  Bengalis  in  sola  com- 

mentatorum  recensione  leguntur.  Buddhas  quidem  mille  fere  aiinis  ante 
Christum  natun  vixit:  sed  post  multa  deiriumsecula,  odiointernecivo  inter 
Brachmanos  et  Buddhae  sectatores  orto,  his  denique  ex  India  pttlsis,  fingi  potuit 
iniquissima  criminatio,  eos  animi  immortalitatem  poenasque  et  praemia  in  vita 
f  utura  negare.  Praeterea  metrum,  quo  Cincinnati  sunt  hi  versus,  de  quo  metro 

inox  disseram^  recentiorem  aetatem  arguit.. Poenitet  me 

nunc  mei  consilii,  quod  non  statjm  ab  initio^............eiecerim  cuncta  disticha 

diversis  a  sloco  vulgari  metris  composita>  Metra  sunt  duo  :  pariter  ambo  cons- 
tant quatuor  hemistichiis  inter  se  aequalibus,  alterum  undenarum  syllabarum, 
alteruni  duocleuar um,  hunc  in  rnodum ; 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  541 

1  I  ~ 

•^^  I  -^^  i         »— •• 

Cuius  generis  versus  inprimo  et  secuncjo  Rameidos  libro  nusquam  nisi  ad 
finem  capitum  apposita  inveniuntur,  et  huic  loco  unice  sunt  accommodata,  quasi 
peroratio,  lyricis  numeris  assurgens,  quo  magis  canorae  cadant  olausulae  :  sicut 
musici  in  concentibus  extremis  omnium  vocum  instruinentorumque  iotu  f  ortiore 
aures  percellere  amant.  Igitur  disticha  ilia  non  ante divisionem  per  capita  illatam 
addi  potuerunt:  hanc  autem  grammatiois  deberi  argumento  est  ipse  recensionum 
dissensus,  manifesto  inde  ortus,  quod  singuli  editores  in  ea  constituenda  suo 
quisque  iudicio  usi  sunt;  praeterquam  quod  non  credibile  est,  poetam  artis  suae 
peritum  narrationem  contmuam  in  membra  tarn  minuta  dissecuisse.  Porro 
discolor  est  dictio:  magniloquentia  affectatur,  sed  nimis  turgida  ilia  atque  effusa, 
nee  sententiarumpondere  satis  suffulta.  Denique  nihil  fere  noyi  affertur  :  ampli 
ficantur  prius  dicta,  rarius  aliquid  e^  capite  sequente  anticipatur.  Si  quis  ap« 
pendices  hosce  legendo  trausiliat,  sentiet  slocum  ultimum  cum  primo  capitis 
proximi  apte  coagmentatum,  nee  sine  vi  quadam  inde  avulsum.  Eiusmodi  versus 
exhibet  utraque  recensio,  sed  inodo  haec  modo  ilia  plures  paucioresve  numero,  et 
lectio  interdum  magnopere  variat,' 

"  The  narrative  of  Rama's  exile  in  the  jungle  is  one  of  the  most  obscure 
portions  of  the  Ramayana,  inasmuch  ^s  it  is  difficult  to  discover  any  trace  of  the 
original  tradition,  or  any  illustration  of  actual  life  and  manners,  beyond  the 
artificial  life  of  self -mortification  and  selfdeuial  said  to  have  been  led  by  the 
Brahman  sages  of  olden  time.  At  the  same  time,  however,  the  story  throws  some 
light  upon  the  significance  of  the  poem,  and  upon  the  character  in  which  the 
!3rahmanical  author  desired  to  represent  Rama  ;  and  consequently  it  deserves! 
more  serious  consideration  than  the  nature  of  the  subject-matter  woulci  other- 
wise  seem  to  imply, 

According  to  the  Ramayana,  the  hero  R-ama  spent  more  than  thirteen 
years  of  his  exile  in  wandering  amongst  the  different  Brahmanical  settlements, 
which  appear  to  have  been  scattered  over  the  country  between  the  Ganges  and 
the  Godaveri ;  his  wanderings  extending  from  the  hill  of  ,Chitra-kiita  in  Bundel- 
kund,  to  the  modern  town  of  Nasik  on  the  western  side  of  India,  near  the  source 
of  the  Godaveri  river,  and  about  seventy ^five  miles  to  the  north-west  of  Bombay, 
The  appearance  of  these  Brahmanical  hermitages  in  the  country  far  away  to  the 
south  of  the  Raj  of  Kasala,  seems  to  call  for  critical  inquiry,  Each  hermitage  is 
said  to  have  belonged  to  some  particular  sage,  who  is  famous  in  Brahmanical 
tradition.  But  whether  the  sages  named  were  really  contemporaries  of  Rama,  op 
whether  they  could  possibly  have  flourished  at  one  and  the  same  period,  is  open 
to  serious  question.  It  is  of  course  impossible  to  fix  with  any  degree  of  certainty 
the  relative  chronology  of  the  several  sages,  who  are  said  to  have  been  visited  by 
Rama ;  but  still  it  seems  tolerably  clear  that  some  belonged  to  an  age  far  an- 
terior to  that  in  which  the  Ramayana  was  composed,  and  probably  to  an  age  an- 
terior to  that  in  which  Rama  existed  as  a  real  and  living  personage  ;  whilst,  at 
least,  one  sage  is  to  be  found  who  could  only  have  existed  in  the  age  during 
which  the  Ramayana  was  produced  in  its  present  form.  The  main  proofs  of  these 
inferences  are  as  follows.  An  interval  of  many  centuries  seems  to  have  elapsed 
between  the  composition  of  the  Rig- Veda  and  that  of  the  Ramayana ;  a  conclusion 


542  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

which  has  long  been  proved  by  the  evidence  of  language,  and  is  generally  accepted 
by  Sanskrit  scholars.  But  three  of  the  sages,  said  to  have  been  contemporary 
with  Rima,  namely,  Visyamitra,  Atri  and  Agastya,  are  frequently  mentioned  in 
the  hymns  of  the  Eig-Veda  ;  whilst  Viilmiki,  the  sage  dwelling  at  Chitra-kuta, 
is  said  to  have  been  himself  the  composer  of  the  Ramayana.  Again,  the  sage  Atri, 
whom  Rama  visited  immediately  after  his  departure  from  Chitra-kuta,  appears 
in  the  genealogical  list  preserved  in  the  lYlaha  Bh&rata,  as  the  progenitor  of  the 
Moon,  and  consequently  as  the  first  ancestor  of  the  Lunar  race  :  whilst  his  grand- 
son Buddha  [  Budha  ]  is  said  to  have  married  I1&,  the  daughter  of  Ikhsvaku 
who  was  himself  the  remote  ancestor  of  the  Solar  race  of  Ayqdhyii,  from  whom 
R&ma  was  removed  by  many  generations.  These  conclusions  are  not  perhaps  based 
upon  absolute  proof,  because  they  are  drawn  from  untrustworthy  authorities  ; 
but  still  the  chronological  difficulties  have  been  fully  apprehended  by  the  Pun- 
dits, and  an  attempt  has  been  made  to  reconcile  all  contradictions  by  represent- 
ing the  sages  to  have  lived  thousands  of  years,  and  to  have  often  re-appeared  upon 
earth  in  different  ages  widely  removed  from  each  other.  Modern  science  refuses 
to  accept  such  explanations  ;  and  consequently  it  is  impossible  to  escape  the  con- 
clusion that  if  Valmiki  composed  the  Ramayana  in  the  form  of  Sanskrit  in  which 
it  has  been  preserved,  he  could  not  have  flourished  in  the  same  age  as  the  sages 
who  are  named  in  the  Rig  -Veda."  WHEELER'S  History  of  India,  Vol.  II,  229. 

PAGE  249. 
Ay,fl  King  Himalaya's  Child. 

Uma  or  Parvatf,  was  the  daughter  of  Himalaya  and  Mena,   She  is  the 
fceroine  oi  K^lidasa's  Kumava-Sambhava  or  Birth  of  the  War-  God.. 

PAGE  2§0, 

Strong  Kumbhaltarna  slumbering  deep 
In  chains  of  never-endin 


l?  Ivumhhakarna,  the  gigantic  brother  of  the  titanic  Ravan,  —  named  from 
the  sjze  of  his  ears  which  could  contain  a  Kumbha  or  large  water  jar—had  such  an 
appetite  that  he  used  to  consume  six  months'  provisions  in  a  single  day.  Brahma, 
to  relieve  the  alarm  of  the  world,  which  had  b,egun  to  entertain  serious  apprehen- 
sions of  being  eaten  up,  decreed  that  the  giant  should  sleep  six  months  a^  a  time 
and  wake  for  only  one  day  during  which  he  might  consume  his  six  months'  allow- 
ance without  trespassing  unduly  on  tfre  reproc^uctive  capabilities  of  the  earth.'* 
Scenesjrow  the  fidmtiyqn,  p.  1$3,  2nd  Edit. 

PAGE  257. 

fdke  &iva  wli^en  liu  angry  might 
Stayed  Dahsha's  sacrificial  rite. 

The  following  spirited  version  of  this  old  story  is  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  W. 
Waterfield  ; 

4  '[This  is  a  favorite  subject  of  Hindu  sculpture,  especially  on  the  temples 
of  Shiva,  such  as  the  caves  of  Elephauta  and  Ellora.  It,  no  doubt,  is  an  allegory 
of  the  contest  between  the  followers  of  SJiiva  and  the  worshippers  of  the  Ele- 
ments, who  observed  th.e  old  ritual  of  the  Vedas  ;  in  which  the  name  of  Shiva  is 
never  mentioned.] 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 


paksha  for  devotion 

Made  a  mighty  feast  ; 
Milk  and  curds  and  butter, 

Flesh  of  bird  and  beast, 
Rice  and  spioe  and  honey, 

Sweetmeats  ghi  and  gur,1 
Gifts  for  all  the  Brahmans, 

Food  for  all  the  poor. 

At  the  gates  of  Ganga* 
Daksha,  held  his  feast  ; 

Called  the  gods  unto  it, 
Greatest  as  the  least. 

All  the  gods  were  gathered 
Round  with  one  accord  ; 
All  the  gods  but  Uma, 
,    All  but  UiwVs  lord, 

Uma  sat  with  Shiva 

On  Kailasa  hill  ; 
Round  them  stood  the  Rudras 

Watching  for  their  will. 

Who  is  this  that  cometh 

Lilting  to  his  lute  ? 
All  the  birds  of  heaven 

Heard  his  music,  mute. 

Round  his  head  a  garland 

Rich  of  hue  was  wreathed  : 
Every  sweetest  odour 

B'rom  its  blossoms  breathed, 
'Tis  the  Muni  Narad  ; 

'Mong  the  gods  he  fares, 
Ever  making  mischief 

By  the  tales  he  bears. 


"  Hail  to  lovely 

Hail  to  Uma  s  lord! 
Wherefore  are  they  absent 

For  her  father's  board  ? 
"  Multiplied  his  merits 

Would  be  truly  thrice, 
Could  he  gain  your  favour 

For  his  sacrifice." 
Wortlx  of  heart  was  Um£  : 

To  her  lord  she  spake  :— 
"  Why  dost  thou,  the  mighty, 

Of  no  rite  partake  ? 

41  Straight  I  speed  to  Daksha 

Such  a  sight  to  see  : 
If  he  be  my  father, 

He  m.ust  welcome  thee." 

Wondrous  was  in  glory 

Daksha's  holy  rite  ; 
Never  had  creation 

Viewed  so  brave  a  sight. 


1  Ghi :  clarified  butter.  Gur:  molasses. 

2  Haridwar  (Anglice  Kurd  war)  where 
bhe  Ganges  enters  the  plain  country. 


Gods,  and  nymphs,  and  fathers, 
Sages,  Brahmans,  sprites, — 

Every  diverse  creature 
Wrought  that  rite  of  rites. 

Quickly  then  a  quaking 

Fell  on  all  from  far  ; 
Um£  stood  among  them 

On  her  lion  car. 
"  Greeting,  gods  and  sages, 

Greeting,  father  mine  ! 
Work  hath  wondrous  virtue, 

Where  suoh  aids  combine. 

"  Guest'hall  never  gathered 

Goodlier  company  ; 
Seemeth  all  are  welcome. 

All  the  gods  but  me," 

Spake  the  Muni  Daksha, 

Stern  and  cold  his  tone  ;— 

"  Welcome  thou,  too,  daughter, 

Since  thou  com'st  alone. 

"But  thy  frenzied  husband 

Suits  another  shrine ; 
He  is  no  partaker 

Of  this  feast  of  mine. 
M  He  who  walks  in  darkness 

Loves  no  deeds  of  light ; 
He  who  herds  with  demons 

Shuns  each  kindly  sprite. 

"  Let  him  wander  naked.— 
Wizard  weapons  wield,— 

Dance  his  frantic  measure 
Round  the  funeral  field. 

"  Art  thou  yet  delighted 
With  the  reeking  hide, 

Body  smeared  with  ashes, 
Skulls  in  neokiaoe  tied  ? 

"  Thou  to  love  this  monster  ? 

Thou  to  plead  his  part! 
Know  the  moon  and  Ganga 

Share  that  faithless  heart, 

"  Vainly  art  thou  vying 
With  thy  rivals'  charms  : 

Are  not  coils  of  serpents 
Softer  than  thine  arms? " 

Words  like  these  from  Daksha 
Daksha's  daughter  heard  : 

Then  a  sudden  passion 
AH  her  bosom  stirred. 

Eyes  with  fury  flashing, 

Speechless  in  her  ire, 
Headlong  did  she  hurl  her 

'  Mid  the  holy  fire. 

Then  a  trembling  terror 

Overcame  each  one, 
And  their  minds  were  troubled 

Like  a  darkened  sun  ; 


544 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 


And  a  cruel  Vision, 

Faoe  of  lurid  flame, 
Uma's  Wrath  Incarnate,     . 

From  the  altar  came. 

Fiendlike  forms  by  thousands 

Started  from  his  side, 
'  Gainst  the  saorificers 

All  their  might  they  plied  : 

Till  the  saints  availed  not 

Strength  like  theirs  to  stay, 
.^.nd  the  gods  distracted 

Turned  and  fled  away. 
Pushed  were  hymns  and  chanting, 

Prie^  we  re  mocked  and  spurned  ; 
J^ood  denied  $nd  scattered; 

Altars  overturned. — 

Then,  to  save  the  object 

Sought  at  such  a  price, 
Like  a  deer  in  semblance 

Sped  the  eflruritice. 


Soaring  toward  the  heavens, 

Through  the  sky  it  fled  ? 
But  the  Rudras  chasing 

Smote  away  its  head. 
Prostrate  on  the  pavement 

Daksha  fell  dismayed: — 
?'  Mightiest,  thou  hast  conquered  ; 

Thee  we  ask  for  aid. 
'•  Let  not  our  oblations 

All  be  rendered  vain  ; 
Let  our  toilsome  labour 

Full  fruition  gain." 

JMght  the  broken  altars 
Shone  with  Shiva's  form ; 

*'  Be  it  so.  !  "  His  blessing 
Soothed  that  frantic  storm. 

Soon  his  anger  ceases, 
Though  it  soon  arise  ; — 

Put  the  Deer's  Head  ever 
Blazes  in  the  skies." 

Indian  Ballads  avid  other  Poems. 


,  PAGE  286. 

"  The  personification  of  Urvasi  herself  is  as  thin  as  that  of  Eos  or  Selene1. 
Her  name  is  often  found  in  the  Yeda  as  a  mere  name  for  the  morning,  and  in  the 
plural  number  it  is  u.sed  to  denote  the  dawns  which  passing  over  men  bring  them 
to  old  age  and  death.  Urvasi  is  the  bright  flush  of  light  overspreading  the  heaven 
before  the  sun  rises,  and  is  bu,t  another  form  of  the  many  mythical  beings  o| 
Greek  mythology  whose  names  take  us  back  to  the  same  idea  or  the  same  root. 
As  the  dawn  in  the  Vedic  hymns  is  called  Uruki,  the  far-going  (TSlephassa,  Tele- 
phos),  so  is  she  also  Uruasi,  the  wide-existing  or  wide-spreading  ;  as  are  Europe", 
Euryanassa,  Euryphassa,  and  many  more  of  the  sisters  of  Athene  and  Aphroditg. 
As  such  she  is  the  mother  of  Va.sishtha,  the  bright  being,  as  Oidipous  is  the  SOD 
of  lokaste  :  and  although  Vasishtha,  like  Oidipous,  has  become  a  mortal  bard  or 
sage,  he  is  still  the  son  of  Mitra  $nd  Varun,a,  of  night  and  day.  Her  lover  Purura- 
vas  is  the  counterpart  Qf  the  Hellenic  Polydeuk6s  ;  but  the  continuance  of  hei 
union  with  him  depends  on  the  condition  that  she  never  sees  him  unclothed.  Bui 
the  Gandharvas,  impatient  of  her  long  sojourn  among  mortal  men  resolved  to 
bring  her  back  to  their  bright  home  ;  and  Pururavas  is  thus  led  unwitingly  to  disre 
gard  her  warning.  A  ewe  with  two  lambs  was  tied  to  fyer  couch,  and  the  Gandharvaf 
stole  one  of  them  ;  Urvasi  said,  '<  They  take  away  my  darling,  as  if  I  lived  in  s 
land  where  there  is  no  hero  and  no  man."  They  stole  the  second,  and  she  upbraided 
her  husband  again.  Then  Pururavas  looked  and  said,  "  How  can  that  be  a  lane 
•without  heroes  or  men  where  I  am  ?"  And  naked  he  sprang  up  ;  he  thought  i 
was  too  long  to  put  on  his  dress.  Then  the  Gandharvas  sent  a  flash  of  lighting 
and  Urvasi  saw  her  husband  naked  as  by  daylight.  Then  she  vanished.  "I  com* 
back,"  she  said,  and  went.  '  Then  he  bewailed  his  vanished  love  in  bitter  grief. 
Her  promise  to  return  was  fulfilled,  but  for  a  moment  only,  at  the  Lotos-lake 
and  Pururavas  in  vain  beseeches  her  to  tarry  longer.  *  What  shall  I  do  with  thj 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  545 

speech  ?'  is  the  answer  of  Urvasi.  « I  am  gone  like  the  first  df  the!  dawns.  Piirurd- 
/as,  go  home  again.  I  am  hard  to  be  caught  like  the  winds.  Her  lover  is  in  utte'r 
despair  ;  but  when  he  lies  down  to  die,  the  heart  of  Urvasi  was  melted,  and  she 
bids  him  come  to  her  on  the  last  night  of  the  year.  On  that  night  only  he  might 
be  with  her  ;  but  a  son  should  be  born  to  him.  On  that  day  he  went  up  to  the 
golden  seats,  and  there  Urvasi  told  him  that  the  Gandharvas  would  grant  him 
one  wish,  and  that  he  must  make  his  choice.  '  Choose  thou  for  me,'  he  said  ;  and 
she  answered,  '  Say  to  them,  Let  me  be  one  of  you.' 

Cox's  Mythology  of  the  Aryan  Nations;  Vol.  I.  p.-  397. 

PAGE  324. 
The  sovereign  of  the  Vdnar  race. 

"  Vanar  is  one  of  the  most  frequently  occurring  names  by  which  the  p'oern 
calls  the  monkeys  of  Rama's  army.  Among  the  two  or  three  derivations  of  which 
the  word  Vanar  is  susceptible,  one  is  that  which  deduces  it  from  opr  which  signi- 
fies a  wood,  and  thus  Vanar  would  mean  a  forester,  an  inhabitant  of  the  wood.  I 
have  said  elsewhere  that  the  monkeys,  the  Vanars,  whom  Rama  led  to  the  con- 
quest of  Ceylon  were  fierce  woodland  tribes  who  occupied  the  mountainous 
regions  of  the  south  of  India,  where  their  descendants  may  .still  be  seen.  1  shall 
hence  forth  promiscuously  employ  the  word  Vdnar  to  denote  those  monkeys,  those 
fierce  combatants  of  Rama's  army."  GOKRESIO. 

PAGE  326* 

No  cliange  of  hue,  no  pose  of  limb 
Gave  sign  that  aught  mas  false  in  liim* 
Concise,  unfaltering,  sweet  and  clear, 
Without  a  word  to  pain  the  ear, 
From  chest  to  throat,  no?  high  nor  lortf, 
His  accents  came  in  measured  flow. 

Soine'what  similarly  in  The  Squires  Tale : 
*  He  with  a  manly  voice  said  his  message, 
After  the  form  used  in  his  language,* 
Withouten  vice  of  syllable  or  of  letter. 
And  for  his  tale  shoulde  seem  the  better 
Accordant  to  his  wordes  was  his  chere, 
As  teacheth  art  of  speech  them  that  it  lere. 

PAGE  329. 

RAMA'S  ALLIANCE  WITH  SUGRrVA. 
c<  Tile  literal  interpretation  of  this  portion  of  the  Ramayana  is  indeed  deeply 
tooted  in  the  mind  of  the  Hindu.  He  implicitly  believes  that  Rama  is  Vishnu, 
who  became  incarnate  for  the  purpose  of  destroying  the  demon  Ravana  ;  that  he 
permitted  his  wife  to  be  captured  by  Ravana  for  the  sake  of  delivering  the  gods 
and  Brahmans  from  the  oppressions  of  the  Rakshasa  ;  and  that  he  ultimately 
assembled  an  army  of  monkeys,  who  were  the  progeiiy  of  the  gods,  and  led  them 
ftgainst  the  strong-hold  of  Ravana  at  Lanka,  and  delivered  the  world  from  the 
tyrant  Rakshasa,  whilst  obtaining  ample  revenge  for  his  own  personal  wronga. 


f>4<3  ADDITIONAL  &OTE& 

One  other  point  seems  to  demand  consideration,  namely,  the  possibility  of 
such  an  alliaiide  as  that  whicJh  tt.im'a  is  ^aid  to  thve  concluded  with  the  monkeys* 
This  possibility  will  of  course  be  denied  by  modern  critic,^  but  still  it  is  interesting 
to  trace  out  the  circumstances  which  seem  to  have  led  to  the  acceptance,  of  such  a 
wild  belief  by  the  dreamy  and  marvel  loving  Hindi.  The  south  of  India  swarms 
with  monkeys  of  curious  intelligence  and  rare  physical  powers.  Their  wonderful 
instinct  for  organization,  their  attachment  to  particular  localities,  their  occasional 
journeys  in  large  numbers  over  mountains  and  across  rivers,  their  obstinate 
assertion  of  supposed  rights,  and  the  ridiculous  caricature  which  they  exhibit  of 
all  that  is  animal  and  emotional  in  man,  would  naturally  create  a  deep  impres- 
sion   Indeed  the  habits  of  monkeys  well  deserve  to  be  patiently  studied; 

not  as  they  appear  in  conttnement,  when  much  that  is  revolting  in  their  nature  is 
developed,  but  as  they  appear  living  in  freedom  amongst  the  trees  of  the  forest, 
or  in  the  streets  of  crowded  Cities,  or  precincts  of  temples.  Such  a  study  would 
not  fail  to  awaken  strange  ideas  ;  and  although  the  European  would  not  be  pre- 
pared to  regard  monkeys  as  sacred  animals,  he  might  be  led  to  speculate  as  to  their 
origin  by  the  light  of  data,  which  are  at  present  unknown  to  the  naturalist  whose 
observations  have  been  derived  from  the  menagerie  alone. 

Whatever,  however,  may  have  been  the  train  of  ideas  which  led  the  Hindti 
to  regard  the  monkey  as  a  being  half  human  and  half  divine,  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that  in  the  Ramayana  the  monkeys  of  southern  India  have  been  confound- 
ed with  what  may  be  called  the  aboriginal  people  of  the  country.  The  origin  of 
this  confusion  may  be  easily  conjectured.  Perchance  the  aborigines  of  thecountry 
may  have  been  regarded  as  a  sitpefior  kind  of  monkeys  ;  and  to  this  day  the  fea- 
tures of  the  Marawars,  who  are  supposed  to  be  the  aborigines  of  the  southern 
part  of  the  Carnatic,  are  not  only  different  from  those  of  their  neighbours,  but 
are  of  a  character  calculated  to  confirm  the  Conjecture.  Again,  it  is  probable 
that  the  army  of  aborigines  may  have  been  accompanied  by  outlying  bands  of 
monkeys  impelled  by  that  magpie-like  curiosity  and  love  of  plunder  which  are 
the  peculiar  characteristics  of  the  monkey  race  ;  and  this  incident  may  have 
given  rise  to  the  story  that  the  army  was  composed  of  Monkeys." 

WHEELER'S  History  of  India.  Vol.  II \  pp.  316  ff. 

THE  FALL  OF  BALI,  PAGE  342. 

"  As  regards  the  narrative,  it  certainly  seems  to  refer  to  some  real  event 
amongst  the  aboriginal  tribes  ;  namely,  the  quarrel  between  an  elder  and  younger 
brother  for  the  possession  of  a  Haj  ;  and  the  subsequent  alliance  of  Rama  with 
the  younger  brother.  It  is  somewhat  remarkable  that  Kama  appears  to  have 
formed  an  alliance  with  the  wrong  part}7,  for  the  right  of  Bali  was  evidently 
superior  to  that  of  Sugriva  ;  and  it  is  especially  worthy  of  note  that  Rama  com- 
passed the  death  of  Bali  by  an  act  contrary  to  all  the  laws  of  fair  fighting.  Again, 
Rama  seems  to  have  tacitly  sanctioned  the  transfer  of  Tara  from  Bali  to  Sugriva, 
which  was  directly'opposed  to  modern  rule,  although  in  conformity  with  the 
rude  customs  of  a  barbarous  age  ;  and  it  is  remarkable  that  to  this  day  the 
marriage  of  both  widows  and  divorced  women  is  practised  by  the  Marawars,  or 
aborigines  of  the  southern  Carnatic ,  contrary  to  the  deeply-rooted  prejudice 
which  exists  against  such  unions  amongst  the  Hindus  at  large." 

WtTTCKT.irn'fi    77»W/i™/  nt  7<nJin     T7/i7    77  391 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  547 

THE  VANAR  HOST,  PACK  3:o. 

**  The  splendid  Marutas  form  the  army  of  Indras,  the  red-haired  monkeya 
and  bears  that  of  Rdmas  ;  and  the  mythical  and  solar  nature  of  the  monkeys 
and  bears  of  the  Ram&yanam  manifests  itself  several  times.  The.  king  of  the 
monkeys  is  a  sun-god.  The  ancient  king  was  named  Biilin,  and  was  the  son  of 
Indras.  His  younger  brother  Sugrivas,  he  who  changes  his  shape  at  pleasure 
(Kumarupas).  who,  helped  by  R4mas,  usurped  his  throne,  is  said  to  be  own  child 
of  the  sun*  Here  it  is  evident  that  the  Vedic  antagonism  between  Indras  and 
Vishnus  is  reproduced  in  a  zoological  and  entirely  apish  form.  The  old  Zeus  must 
give  way  to  the  new,  the  moon  to  the  sun,  the  evening  to  the  morning  sun,  the 
sun  of  winter  to  that  of  spring  ;  the  young  son  betrays  and  overthrows  the  old 

one Ramas,  who  treacherously  kills  the  old  king  of  the  monkeys,  Balin,  isf 

the  equivalent  of  Vishnus,  who  hurls  his  predecessor  Indras  from  his  throne  ; 
and  Sugrivas,  the  new  king  of  the  monkeys  resembles  Indras  when  he  promises 
to  find  the  ravished  Sita,  in  the  same  way  as  Vishnus  in  one  of  his  incarnations 
finds  again  the  lost  ved&s.  And  there  are  other  indications  in  the  Ramayanatn 
of  opposition  between  Indras  and  the  monkeys  who  assist  BAmas.  The  great 
monkey  Hanumant,  of  the  reddish  colour  of  gold,  has  his  jaw  broken,  Indfaa 
having  struck  him  with  his  thunderbolt  and  caused  him  to  fall  upon  a  mountain, 
because,  while  yet  a  child,  he  threw  himself  off  amountaininto  the  air  in  order  to 
arrest  the  course  of  the  sun.  whose  rays  had  no  effect  upon  him.  (The  cloud  rises 
from  the  mountain  and  hides  the  sun,  which  is  unable  of  itself  to  disperse  it; 
the  tempest  comes,  and  brings  flashes  of  lightning  and  thunder-bolts,  which  tear 
the  cloud  in  pieces.) 

The  whole  legend  of  the  monkey  Hanumant  represents  the  sun  entering 
into  the  cloud  or  darkness,  and  coming  out  of  it.  His  father  ia  said  to  be  now 
the  wind,  now  the  elephant  of  the  monkeys  (Kapikunjaras),  now  Kesarin,  the 
long-haired  sun,  the  sun  with  a  mane,  the  lion  sun  (whence  his  name  of  Kesarinah 
putrali).  From  this  point  of  view,  Hanumant  would  seem  to  be  the  brother  of 
Sugrivas,  who  is  also  the  offspring  of  the  sun 

All  the  epic  monkeys  of  the  Rdmdj/anam  are  described  in  the  twentieth 
canto  of  the  first  book  by  expressions  which  very  closely  resemble  those  applied 
in  the  Vedic  hymns  to  the  Marutas,  as  swift  as  the  tempestuous  wind,  changing 
their  shape  at  pleasure,  making  a  noise  like  clouds,  sounding  like  thunder, 
battling,  hurling  mountain-peaks,  shaking  great  uprooted  trees,  stirring  up  the 
deep  waters,  crushing  the  earth  with  their  arms,  making  the  clouds  fall.  Thus 
Balin  comes  out  of  the  cavern  as  the  sun  out  of  the  cloud 

But  the  legend  of  the  monkey  Hanumant  presents  another  curious  resem- 
blance to  that  of  Samson.  Hanumsnt  is  bound  with  cords  by  Indrajit,  son  of 
Bavanas  :  he  could  easily  free  himself,  but  does  not  wish  to  do  so.  Ravanas  to 
put  him  to  shame,  orders  his  tail  to  be  burned,  because  the  tail  is  the  part  most 
prized  by  monkeys • 

The  tail  of  Hanumant,  which  sets  fire  to  the  city  of  the  monsters,  is  prob- 
ably a  personification  of  the  rays  of  the  morning  or  spring  sun,  which  ssts  fire  to 
the  eastern  heavens,  and  destroys  the  a'bode  of  the  nocturnal  or  winter  monsters.'1 
DE  GUBBRNATIS,  Zoolofjical  Mythology,  Vol.  II.  pp.  100  ff. 


548  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

"  The  Jaitwas  of  Kajputana,  a  tribe  politically  reckoned  as  Rajputs,  never- 
theless trace  their  descent  from  the  monkey-god  Hanuman,  and  confirm  it  by 
alleging  that  their  princes  still  bear  its  evidence  in  a  tail-like  prolongation  of  the 
spine ;  a  tradition  which  has  probably  a  real  ethnological  meaning,  pointing  out 
the  Jaitwas  as  of  non-Aryan  race."  *  TYLOR'S  Primitive  Culture,  Vol.  I.  p.  341. 

PAGE  372. 

The  names  of  peoples  occurring  in  the  following  sloltas  are  omitted  in  the 
metrical  translation : 

'  Go  to  the  Brahmamalas,1  the  Videhas,2  the  Malavas,3  the  Kasikosalas,4 
the  Magadhas,5  the  Pundras, 6  and  the  Angas,7  and  the  land  of  the  weavers  of 
Bilk,  and  the  land  of  the  mines  of  silver,  and  the  hills  that  stretch  into  the  sea, 
and  the  towns  and  the  hamlets  that  are  about  the  top  of  Mandar,  and  the  Karna- 
pravaranas,8  and  the  Oshthakarnakas,9  and  the  Ghoralohamukhas,1  °  and  the 

*  Campbell  in  *  Journ.  As.  Soc.  Bengal,'  1866,  Part  ii.  p.  132  ;  Latham,  *  Descr. 
Eth.'  Vol.  ii.  p.  456  ;  Tod, '  Annals  of  Rajasthan,'  Vol.  i.  p.  114. 

1  Said  by  the  commentator  to  be  an  eastern  people  between  the  Himalayan 
and  Vindhyan  chains. 

51  Videha  was  a  district  in  the  province  of  Behar,  the  ancient  Mithil£  or  the 
modern  Tirhoot. 

3  The  people  of  Malwa. 

4  "The  Kasikosalas  are  a  central  nation  in  the  Vayu  Purana.    The  Ramayana 
places  them  in  the  east.  The  combination  indicates  the  country  between  Benares 

and  Oude Kosala  is  a  name  variously  applied.    Its  earliest  and  most 

celebrated  application  is  to  the  country  on  the  banks  of  the  Sarayu,  the  kingdom, 

of  Rama,  of  which  Ayodhya  was  the  capital In  the  Mahabharata  we  have 

one  Kosala  in  the  east  and  another  in  the  south,  besides  the  Prak-Kosalas  and 
Uttara  Kosalas  in  the  east  and  north.  The  Puranas  place  the  Kosalas  amongst 
the  people  on  the  back  of  Vindhya ;  and  it  would  appear  from  the  Vayu  that 
Kusa  the  son  of  Rama  transferred  his  kingdom  to  a  more  central  position  ;  he 
ruled  over  Kosala  at  his  capital  of  Kusasthali  of  Kusavati,  built  upon  the  Vin- 
dhyan precipices."    WILSON'S  Vishnu  Purdna,  Vol.  II.  pp.  157,  172. 

5  The  people  of  south  Behar. 

ft  The  Pundras  are  said  to  be  the  inhabitants  of  the  western  provinces  of  Bengal. 
"  In  the  Aitar  eyabrdhmana^  VII.  18,  it  is  said  that  the  elder  sons  of  Visvamitra 
•were  cursed  to  become  progenitors  of  most  abject  races,  such  as  Andhras,  Pundras, 
Sabaras,  Pulindas,  and  Mutibas."  WILSON'S  Vishnu  Purana  Vol.  II.  170. 

*  Anga  is  the  country  about  Bhagulpore,  of  which  Champa  was  the  capital. 

8  A  fabulous  people,  'men  who  use  their  ears  as  a  covering.'  So  Sir  John  Maun- 
devile  says:  "And  in  another  Yle  ben  folk  that  han  gret  Eres  and  long,  that 
hangen  down  to  here  knees,'  and  Pliny,  lib.  iv.  c.  13  :  "In  quibus  nuda  alioquin 
corpora  praegrandes  ipsoram  aures  tota  contegunt," 

Isidore  calls  them  Panotii. 

9  '  Those  whose  ears  hang  down  to  their  lips,' 
1  °  '  The  Iron-faces.1 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  549 

swift  Ekapadakas.1  and  the  strong  imperishable  Eaters  of  Men,  and  the  Kiratas2 
with  stiff  hair-tufts,  men  like  gold  and  fair  to  look  upon  :  And  the  Eaters  of  Ra.w 
Fish,  and  the  Kiratas  who  dwell  in  islands,  and  the  fierce  Tiger-men3  who  live 
amid  the  waters.' 

PAGE  374. 
«Go  to  the  Vidarbhas  4  and  the  Rishtikas  5  and  the  Mahishikas,  «  and  the 

Matsyas  7  and  Kalingas8  and  tiie  Kausikas  9 and  the  Andhras1  °  and  the 

Pundras11  and  the  Cholas1  2  and  the  Pandyas18  and  the  Keralas.14   'Go  to  the 

'  « The  One-footed.' 

"In  that  Contree,"says  Sir  Jhon  Maundevile,  "ben  folk,  that  han  but  o  foot 
and  thei  gon  so  fast  that  it  is  marvaylle  :  and  the  foot  is  so  large  that  it  schade- 
weth  alle  the  Body  azen  the  iSonne,  when  thei  wole  lye  and  rest  hem."  So  Pliny, 

Natural  History,  lib.  vii.  c.  2:  speaks  of  Hominum  gens singulis  cruribus, 

mirae  pernicitatis  ad  saltum  ;  eosdemque  Sciopodas  vocari,  quod  in  majori  sestu, 
humi  jacentes  resupini,  umbra  se  pedum  protegant." 

These  epithets  are,  as  Professor  Wilson  remarks,  "  exaggerations  of  national 
ugliness,  or  allusions  to  peculiar  customs,  which  were  not  literally  intended,  al- 
though they  may  have  furnished  the  Mandevilles  of  ancient  and  modern  times." 

Vishnu  Purdna,  Vol.  II.  p.  162. 

*  The  Kirrhadee  of  Arrian  :  a  general  name  for  savage  tribes  living  in  woods 
and  mountains 

3  Said  by  the  commentator  to  be  half  tigers  half  men. 

4  The  kingdom  seems  to  have  corresponded  with  the  greater  part  of  Berar  and 
Khandesh. 

5  The  Bengal  recension  has  Kishikas,  and  places  them  both  in  the  south  and 
the  north. 

6  The  people  of  Mysore. 

?  «'  There  are  two  Matsyas,  one  of  which,  according  to  the  Yantra  Samraj,  is 
identifiable  with  Jeypoor.  In  the  Digvijaya  of  Nakula  he  subdues  the  Matsyas 
further  to  the  west,  or  Gujerat."  WILSON'S  Vishnu  Purdna,  Vol.  II.  158.  Dr. 
Hall  observes:  "JniheMaJidbbdrata  Sabhd-parwan,  1105  and  1108,  notice  is 
taken  of  the  king  of  Matsya  and  of  the  Aparamatsyas ;  and,  at  1082,  the  Mat- 
syas  figure  as  an  eastern  people.  They  are  placed  among  the  nations  of  the  south 
in  the  Rdmdyana  Kishkindhd-kanda,  XLL,  II,  while  the  Bengal  recension,  Klsh* 
kindhd'kdnda,  XLIV.,  12,  locates  them  in  the  north." 

8  The  Kalingas  were  the  people  of  the  upper  part  of  the  Coromandel  Coast,  well 
known,  in  the  traditions  of  the  Eastern  Archipelago,  as  Kling.  Ptolemy  has  a  city 
in  that  part,  called  Caliga  ;  and  Pliny  Calingse  proximi  mari." 

WILSON'S  Vishnu  Purdna,  Vol.  II.  156,  Note; 

9  The  Kausikas  do  not  appear  to  be  identifiable. 

1  °  The  Andhras  probably  occupied  the  modern  Telingana, 
1 !  The  Pundras  have  already  been  mentioned  in  Canto  XL. 
1  a  The  inhabitants  of  the  lower  part  of  the  Coromandel  Coast ;  BO  called,  after 
them,  Cholamandala 

1 3  A  people  in  the  Decean. 

1 4  The  Keralas  were  the  people  of  Malabar  proper. 


r?3°  ,     ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

Mlechchhas  '  and  the  Pulindas2  and  the  &urasenas,3  and  the  Prasthalas  and  the 
Bharatas  and  Madrakas  4  and  the  Kambojas  5  and  the  Yavanas  6  and  the  towns 
of  the  3akas7  and  the  Varadas.' 8 

NORTHERN  KURUS,  PAGE  378. 

Professor  Lassen  remarks  (in  the  7eitschrift  fiir  die  Kunde  des  Mor- 
genlandes,  ii.  62) :  "At  the  furthest  accessible  extremity  of  the  earth  appears 
Harivarsha  with  the  northern  Kurus.  The  region  of  Hari  or  Vishnu  belongs  to 
the  system  of  mythical  geography :  but  the  case  is  different  with  the  Uttara 
Kurus.  Here  there  is  a  real  basis  of  geographical  fact ;  of  which  fable  has  only 
taken  advantage,  without  creating  it.  The  Uttara  Kurua  were  formerly  quite  inde- 
pendent of  the  mythical  system  of  dvipas,  though  they  were  included  in  it  at  an 
early  date."  Again  the  same  writer  says  at  p.  65 :  "  That  the  conception  of  the 
Uttara  Kurus  is  based  upon  an  actual  country  and  not  on  mere  invention,  is 
proved  (1)  by  the  way  in  which  they  are  mentioned  in  the  Vcdas ;  (2  )  by  the 

1  A  generic  term  for  persons  speaking  any  language  but  Sanskrit  and  not  con- 
forming to  the  usual  Hindu  institutions, 

*  "Pulinda  is  applied  to  any  wild  or  barbarous  tribe.  Those  here  named  are 
some  of  the  people  of  the  deserts  along  the  Indus  ;  but  Pulindas  are  met  with  in 
many  other  positions,  especially  in  the  mountains  and  forests  across  Central 
.India,  the  haunts  of  the  Bheels  and  Gonds.  So  Ptolemy  places  the  Pulindas  along 
the  banks  of  the  Narmada,  to  the  frontiers  of  Larice,  the  Lata  or  Lar  of  the 
Hindus, — Khandesh  and  part  of  Gujerat."  WILSON'S  Vishnu  Purdna,  Vol.  II. 
159,  Note. 

Dr.  Hall  observes  that  "  in  the  Bengal  recension  of  the  Rdmdyana  the  Pulindas 
appear  both  in  the  south  and  in  the  north.  The  real  Rdmdyana  K.-k.,  XLIII., 
speaks  of  the  northern  Pulindas." 

8  The  £urasenas  were  the  inhabitants  of  Mathura,  the  Suraseni  of  Arrian, 

*.  These  the  Mardi  of  the  Greeks  and  the  two  preceding  tribes  appear  to  have 
dwelt  in  the  north-west  of  Hindustan. 

5  The  Kambojas  are  said  to  be*  the  people  of  Arachosia.  They  are  always 
mentioned  with  the  north-western  tribes. 

6  "The  term  Yavanas,  although,  in  later  times,  applied  to  the  Mohammedans, 

designated  formerly  the  Greeks The  Greeks  were  known  throughout  Western 

Asia  by  the  term  ^  Yavan,  or  Ion,  '  laovec;  ;    tne  ScR  °f  the  Hindus ••• 

That  the  Macedonian  or  Bactrian  Greeks  were  most  usually  intended  is  not  only 
probable  from  their  position  and  relations  with   India,    but  from  their  being 
usually  named  in  concurrence  with  the  north-western  tribes,  Kambojas,  Daradas, 
Paradas,  Bahlikas,  £akas  &c.,  in  the  R&mayana,   Mahabharata,  Puranas,  Manu, 
and  in  various  poems  and' plays."    WILSON'S  Vishnu  Parana  t  Vol.  II.  p.   181, 
Note. 

7  These  people,  the  Sakai  and  Sacag  of  classical  writers,  the  Indo-Seythians 
of  Ptolemy,  extended,  about  the  commencement  of  our  era,  along  the  west  of 
India,  from  the  Hindu  Kosh  to  the  mouths  of  the  Indus. 

8  The  corresponding  passage  in  the  Bengal  recension  has  instead  of  Varadas 
Daradas  the  Dards  or  inhabitants  of  the  modern  Daidistan  along  the  course 
cf  the  Indus,  above  the  Himalayas,  just  before  it  descends  to  India, 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  551 

existence  of  Uttara  Kuru  in  historical  times  as  a  real  country  ;  and  ( 3 )  by  the 
way  in  which  the  legend  makes  mention  ol  that  region  as  the  home  of  primitive 
customs.  To  begin  with  the  last  point  the  Mahabharata  speaks  as  follows  of  the 
freer  mode  of  life  which  women  led  in  the  early  world,  Book  I.  verses  4719—22  : 
*  Women  were  formerly  unconfined  and  roved  about  at  their  pleasure,  indepen- 
dent. Though  in  their  youthful  innocence  they  abandoned  their  husbands,  they 
were  guilty  of  no  offence  ;  for  such  was  the  rule  in  early  times.  This  ancient 
custom  is  even  now  the  law  for  creatures  born  as  brutes,  which  are  free  from  lust 
and  anger.  This  custom  is  supported  by  authority  and  is  observed  by  great  rishis, 
and  it  is  still  practised  among  the  northern  Kurus' 

"  The  idea  which  is  here  conveyed  is  that  of  the  continuance  in  one  part  of 
the  world  of  that  original  blessedness  which  prevailed  in  the  golden  age.  To 
afford  a  conception  of  the  happy  condition  of  the  southern  Kurus  it  is  said  in 
another  place  iM.-Bh.  i.  4346.)  "  The  southern  Kurus  vied  in  happiness  with  the 
northern  Kurus  and  with  the  divine  rishis  and  bards." 

Professor  Lassen  goes  on  to  say:  "  Ptolemy  (vi.  16.)  is  also  acquainted 
with  Uttara  Kuru.  He  speaks  of  a  mountain,  a  people,  and  a  city  called  Ottora- 
korra. Most  of  the  other  ancient  authors  who  elsewhere  mention  this  name,  have 
it  from  him.  It  is  a  part  of  the  country  which  he  calls  Serica  ;  according  to  him 
the  city  lies  twelve  degrees  west  from  the  metropolis  of  Sera,  and  the  mountain 
extends  from  thence  far  to  the  eastward.  As  Ptolemy  has  misplaced  the  whole  of 
eastern  Asia  beyond  the  Ganges,  the  relative  position  which  he  assigns  will  guide 
us  better  that  the  absolute  one,  which  removes  Ottorakorra  so  far  to  the  eatt 
that  a  correction  is  inevitable.  According  to  my  opinion  the  Ottorakorra  of 
Ptolemy  must  be  sought  for  to  the  east  of  Kashgar."  Lassen  also  thinks  that 
Magasthenes  had  the  Uttara  Kurus  in  view  when  he  referred  to  the  Hyperboreans 
who  were  fabled  by  Indian  writers  to  live  a  thousand  years.  In  his  Indian  anti- 
quities, (Ind.  Alterthumskunde,  i.  511,  512,  and  note,)  the  same  writer  concludes 
that  though  the  passages  above  cited  relative  to  the  Uttara  Kurus  indicate  a 
belief  in  the  existence  of  a  really  existing  country  of  that  name  in  the  far  north, 
yet  that  the  descriptions  there  given  are  to  be  taken  as  pictures  of  an  ideal  para-  . 
dise,  and  not  as  founded  on  any  recollections  of  the  northern  origin  of  the 
Kurus.  It  is  probable,  he  thinks,  that  some  such  reminiscences  originally  existed, 
and  still  survived  in  the  Vedic  era,  though  there  is  no  trace  of  their  existence  in 
latter  times."  MUIR'S  Sanskrit  Texts,  Vol.  II.  pp.  336,  337. 

PAGE  428. 
Trust  to  these  mighty  Vdnars. 

The  corresponding  passage  in  the  Bengal  recension  has  "  these  silvans  in 
the  forms  of  monkeys,  vanarah  kapirupiuah."  ''Here  it  manifestly  appears," 
says  Gorresio,  "  that  these  hosts  of  combatants  whom  Kama  led  to  the  conquest 
of  Lanka  (Ceylon)  the  kingdom  and  seat  of  the  Hamitic  race,  and  whom  the 
poem  calls  monkeys,  were  in  fact  as  I  have  elsewhere  observed,  inhabitants  of  the 
mountainous  and  southern  regions  of  India,  who  were  wild-looking  and  not  alto- 
gether unlike  monkeys.  They  were  perhaps  the  remote  ancestors  of  the  Malay 
races." 


552  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

PAGE  431. 

"  Art  thou  not  he  who  slew  of  old 

The  Serpent-Gods,  and  stormed  their  hold.*' 

All  the!=e  exploits  of  Kavan  are  detailed  in  iheUttarakdnda,  and  epitomized 
in  the  Appendix. 

PAGE  434. 
Within  the  consecrated  hall. 

The  Brahman  householder  ought  to  main  tain  three  sac  red  fires,  the  Gdrha- 
pati/a,  the  Ahavaniya  and  the  Dakshmi.  These  three  fires  were  made  use  of  in 
many  Brahmanical  solemnities,  for  example  in  funeral  rites  when  the  three  fires 
were  arranged  in  prescribed  order. 

PAGE  436. 
Fair  Punjilcasthald  I  met. 

"  I  have  not  noticed  in  the  Uttara  Kanda  any  story  about  the  daughter  of 
Varuna,  but  the  commentator  on  the  text  (VI  60,  11)  explains  the  allusion  to  her 
thus : 

"The  daughter  of  Varuna  was  Punjikasthali.  On  her  account,  a  curse  of 
Brahma,  involving  the  penalty  of  death,  [was  pronounced]  on  the  rape  of  women." 
MUIB,  Sanskrit  Texts,  Part  IV.  Appendix. 

PAGE  452. 

"  Shatt  no  funereal  honours  grace 
The  parted  lord  of  Jfaghu's  race  ?  " 

11  Here  are  indicated  those  admirable  rites  and  those  funeral  prayers  which 
Professor  Miiller  has  described  in  his  excellent  work,  Die  Todtenbestattung  bei  deft 
JBralimanen.  Sita  laments  that  the  body  of  Rama  will  not  be  honoured  with 
those  rites  and  prayer. s,  nor  will  the  Brahman  priest  while  laying  the  ashes  from 
the  pile  in  the  bosom  of  the  earth,  pronounce  over  them  those  solemn  and  magni- 
ficent words:  ''Go  unto  the  earth,  thy  mother,  the  ample,  wide,  and  blessed 

earth And  do  thou,  O  Earth,  open  and  receive  him  as  a  friend  with  sweet 

greeting:   enfold  him  in  thy  bosom  as  a  mother  wraps  her  child  in  her  robes." 
GOBRKSIO. 

PAGE   462. 

Each  glorious  sign 
That  stamps  the  future  queen  is  mine. 

We  read  in  Josephus  that  C«*;.sar  was  so  well  versed  in  chiromancy  that  when 
one  day  a  soi-disant  son  of  Herod  had  audience  of  him,  he  at  once  detected  the 
impostor  because  his  hand  was  destitute  of  all  marks  of  royalty. 

PAGE  466. 

In  battle's  wild  Gandharva  dance. 

"  Here  the  commentator  explains  :  *  the  battle  resembled  the  dance  of  the 
Gandharvas,'  in  accordance  with  the  notion  of  the  Gandharvas  entertained  in  hia 
day.  They  were  regarded  as  celestial  musicians  enlivening  with  their  melodies 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  553 

tndra's  heaven  and  the  banquets  of  the  Gods.  But  the  Gandharvns  before  be- 
soming celestial'musicians  in  popular  tradition,  were  in  the  primitive  and  true 
signification  of  the  name  heroes,  spirited  and  ardent  warriors,  followers  of  Indra, 
and  combined  the  heroical  character  with  their  atmospherical  deity.  Under  this 
aspect  the  dance  of  the  Gandharvas  may  be  a  very  different  thing  from  what  the 
commentator  means,  and  may  signify  the  horrid  dance  of  war."  GORRESIO. 

The  Homeric  expression  is  similar,  "  to  dance  a  war-dance  before  Ares,'* 

PAGE  470. 
By  Anaranya's  lips  of  old. 

"The  story  of  Anaranya  is  told  in  the  Uttara  Kanda  of  the  Ramayana.... 
Anaranya  a  descendant  of  Ixvaku  and  King  of  Ayodhya.  when  called  upon  to 
light  with  Ravana  or  acknowledge  himself  conquered,  prefers  the  former  alter- 
native ;  but  his  army  is  overcome,  and  he  himself  is  thrown  from  his  chariot. 

When  Ravana  triumphs  over  his  prostrate  foe,  the  latter  says  that  he  has 
been  vanquished  not  by  him  but  by  fate,  and  that  Ravana  is  only  the  instrument 
;)f  his  overthrow  ;  and  he  predicts  that  Ravana  shall  one  day  be  slain  by  his  des- 
cendant Rama."  Sanskrit  Texts,  IV.,  Appendix. 

PAGE  497. 

"  With  regard  to  the  magic  image  of  Sita  made  by  Indrajir,  we  may  observe 
that  this  thoroughly  oriental  idea  is  also  found  in  Greece  in  Homer's  Iliad,  where 
Apollo  forms  an  image  of  ^Eneas  to  save  that  hero  beloved  by  the  Gods:  it  occurs 
too  in  the  ^Eneid  of  Virgil  where  Juno  forms  a  fictitious  ^Eneas  to  save  Turnus: 
Turn  dea  nube  cava  tenuem  sine  viribus  uinbram. 

I      In  faciem  ^Enea3  (visu  mirabile  inoic-tniin) 
Dardaniis  ornat  telis;  clipeumque  jubasque 
Divini  assimulat  capitis  ;  dat  inania  verba  ; 
Dat  sine  mente  sonum,  gressusque  eftiugit  euntis. 
(^Eneidos,  lib  X.)" 
GORRESIO. 
PAGE  489. 
11  To  Raghu's  son  my  chariot  lend." 

"Analogous  to  this  passage  of  the  Kamayana,  where  Indra  sends  to  Rama 
his  own  chariot,  his  own  charioteer,  and  his  own  arms,  is  the  passage  in  the 
«3fineid  where  Venus  descending  from  heaven  brings  celestial  arms  to  her  son 
when  he  is  about  to  enter  the  battle  : 

At  Venus  tethereos  inter  dea  Candida  nimlos 
Dona  ferens  aderat ; 


Arma  sub  ad  versa  posuit  radiantia  querou. 
Ille,  de«3  donis  et  tanto  lastus  honore, 
Expleri  nequit,  atque  oculos  per  singula  volvit, 
Miraturque,  interque  manus  et  brachia  versat 
Terribilem  cristis  galeam  flammasque  vomentem, 
F^tiferumque  ensem,  lorioani  ex  eere  rigentem. 

,  lib.  VIII.) " 


554  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

PAGE  489. 
Agastya  came  and  gently  spake. 

"  The  Muni  or  saint  Agastya,  author  of  several  Vedic  hymns,  was  celebrat- 
ed in  Indo-Sanskrit  tradition  for  having  directed  the  first  brahmanical  settle- 
ments in  the  southern  regions  of  India  ;  and  the  Mahabharata  gives  him  the 
credit  of  having  subjected  those  countries,  expelled  the  Rakshases.  and  given 
security  to  the  solitary  ascetics,  who  were  settled  there.  Hence  Agastya  was 
regarded  in  ancient  legend  as  the  conqueror  and  ruler  of  the  southern  country. 
This  tradition  refers  to  the  earliest  migrations  made  by  the  Sanskrit  Indians 
towards  the  south  of  India.  To  Agastya  are  attributed  many  marvel lous  mythic 
deeds  which  adumbrate  and  veil  ancient  events  ;  some  of  which  are  alluded  to 
here  and  there  in  the  Ramayana."  GoRRESlo 

The  following  is  the  literal  translation  of  the  Canto,  text  and  commentary, 
from  the  Calcutta  edition : 

Having  found  Rama  weary  with  fighting  and  buried  in  deep  thought, 
and  Ravan  standing  before  him  ready  to  engage  in  battle,  the  holy  Agastya, 
who  had  come  to  see  the  battle,  approached  Rama  and  spoke  to  him  thus : 
"  O  mighty  Rama,  listen  to  the  old  mystery  by  which  thou  wilt  conquer  all  thy 
foes  in  the  battle.  Having  daily  repeated  the  Adityahridaya  (the  delightei 
of  the  mind  of  the  Sun)  the  holy  prayer  which  destroys  all  enemies  (of  him  who 
repeats  it)  gives  victory,  removes  all  sins,  sorrows  and  distress,  increases  life, 
and  which  is  the  blessing  of  all  blessings,  worship  the  rising  and  splendid  sur. 
who  is  respected  by  both  the  Gods  and  demons,  who  gives  light  to  all  bodies  and 
who  is  the  rich  lord  of  all  the  worlds,  (To  the  question  why  this  prayer  claims  so 
great  reverence  ;  the  sage  answers)  Since  yonder*  sun  is  full  of  glory  and  all  god* 
reside  in  him  (he  being  their  material  cause)  and  bestows  being  and  the  active 
principle  on  all  creatures  by  his  rays  ;  and  since  he  protects  all  deities,  demons 
and  men  with  his  rays. 

He  is  Brahma,1  Vishnu,2  Siva,3  Skanda,4  Prajapati,*  Mahendra,6  Dhanada. 
Kala,8  Yama,9  Soma,10  Apam  Pati  L  e.  The  lord  of  waters,   Pitris,11    Vasus,1;J 

*  From  the  word  yonder  it  would  appear  that  the  prayer  is  to  be  repeated  at  the 
rising  of  the  Sun. 

1  The  creator  of  the  world  and  the  first  of  the  Hindu  triad. 

2  He  who  pervades  all  beings  ;  or  the  second  of  the  Hindu  triad  who  preserve* 
the  world. 

3  The  bestower  of  blessings  ;  the  third  of  the  Hindu  triad  and  the  destroyer  o 
the  world. 

4  A  name  of  the  War-God  ;  also  one  who  urges  the  senses  to  action. 
6  The  lord  of  creatures  ;  or  the  God  of  sacrifices. 

6  A  name  of  the  King  of  Gods  ;  also  all-powerful. 

7  The  giver  of  wealth.  A  name  of  the  God  of  riches. 

8  One  who  directly  urges  the  mental  faculties  to  action. 

9  One  who  moderates  the  senses  ;  also  the  God  of  the  regions  of  the  dead. 

10  One  who  produces  nectar  (amrita)  or  one  who  is  always  possessed  of  light 
or  one  together  with  Um£  (Ardhanarisvara). 

1 i  The  names  or  spirits  of  departed  ancestors. 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  555 

Sadhya?,1  Asvins,*  Maruts,3  Manu,4  Vayu,*  Vahni,6  Praja,7  Pr&na,8 
Ritukarta,9  Prabhakara,10  (Thou,«»  art)  Aditya,»  2  Savita,13  Surya,14  Khaga,1* 
Pushan,16  Gabhastiman,1 7  Suvarnasadrisa,18  Bhanu,19  Hiranyaretas,20  Diva- 
kara,21  Haridasva,22  Sahasrarchish,23  Saptasapti,24  Mariehiman,25  Timironma- 
thana,26  Sambhu,27  Twashta,28  Martanda,29  Ansuman,30  Hiranyagarbha,31 
Sisira,32  Tapana,33  Ahaskara,34  Ravi,3^  Agnigarbha,36  Aditiputra,37  Sankha,38 
Sisiranasana,39  Vyomanatha,40  Tamobhedi,41  Rigyajussamaparaga,42  Ghana- 


1  They  who  are  to  be  served  by  Yogis  ;  or  a  class  of  Gods  named  Sadhyas. 

2  The  two  physicians  of  the  Gods  :  or  they  who  pervade  all  beings, 

3  They  who  are  immortal  :  or  a  class  of  Gods  forty-nine  in  number. 

4  Omniscient  ;  or  the  first  king  of  the  world. 

5  He  that  moves  ;  life  ;   or  the  God  of  wind. 
«  The  God  of  fire. 

7  Lord  of  creatures. 

8  One  who  prolongs  our  lives. 

9  The  material  cause  of  knowledge  and  of  the  seasons. 

I  °  One  who  shines.     The  giver  of  light. 

I 1  The  hymn  entitled  the  AMityahndaya  begin*  from  this  verse  and  the  words, 
thou  art,  are  understood  in  the  beginning  of  this  verse. 

1  *  One  who  enjoys  all  (pleasurable)  objects  ;  The  son  of  Aditi,  the  lord  of  the 
solar  disk. 

1 3  One  who  creates  the  world  i.  e.  endows  beings  with  life  or  soul,  and  by  his 
rays  causes  rain  and  thereby  produces  corn. 

14  One  who  urges  the  world  to  action  or  puts  the   world  in  motion,  who  is 
omnipresent. 

1 6  One  who  walks  through  the  sky  ;   or  pervades  the  soul. 

16  One  who  nourishes  the  world  i.  e.  is  the  supporter. 

17  One  having  rays  (Gabhasti)  or  he  who  is  possessed  of  the  all-pervading 
goddess  Lakshmi. 

18  One  resembling  gold. 

19  One  who  is  resplendent  or  who  gives  light  to  other  objects. 

20  One  whose  seed  (Retas)  is  gold  ;  or  quicksilver,  the  material  cause  of  gold. 
81  One  who  is  the  cause  of  day. 

22  One  whose  horses  are  of  tawny  colour  ;  or  one  who  pervades  the  whole  space 
or  quarters. 

23  One  whose  knowledge  is  boundless  or  who  has  a  thousand  rays. 

24  One  who  urges  the  seven  (Pranas)  that  is  the  two  eyes,  the  two  ears,  the  nos- 
trils, and  the  organ  of  speech,  or  whose  chariot,  is  drawn  by  seven  horses. 

*5  Vide  Gabha.stiman. 

26  One  who  destroys  darkness,  or  ignorance. 

*7  One  from  whom  our  blessings  or  the  enjoyments  of  Paradise  come. 

28  The  architect  of  the  gods  ;  or  one  who  lessens  the  miseries  of  our  birth  and 
death. 

29  One  who  gives  life  to  the  lifeless  world. 

30  ( me  who  pervades  the  internal  and  external  worlds;  or  one  who  is  resplendent. 

31  He  who  is  identified  with  the  Hindu  triad,   i.  e.   the  creator  (Brahma)  the 
supporter  \Vishnu)  and  the  destroyer  (6iva>. 

32  Cold  or  good  natured.  He  is  so  called  because  he  allays  the  three  sorts  of  pain. 

33  One  who  is  the  lord  of  all. 

34  Vide  Divakara. 

35  One  who  teaches  Brahma  and  others  the  Vedas. 

36  One  from  whom  Rudra  the  destroyer  or  the  third  of  the  Hindu  triad  springs, 

37  One  who  is  knowable  through  Aditi  i.  e.  the  eternal  Brahmavidya. 
88  Great  happiness  or  the  sky. 

*9  The  destroyer  of  cold  or  stupidity. 

40  The  Lord  of  the  sky. 

41  Vide  Timironmathana. 

One  who  is  known  through  the  Upanishads. 


556  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

vrishti.1  Apam-Mitra,2  Vindhyavithiplavangama,3  Atapf,4  Mandali,5  Mrityn 
(death),  Pingala,6  Sarvatapana,7  Kavi,8  Visva,9  Mahatejas,10  Rakta,1 1  Sarva- 
bhavodbhava. ]  *  The  Lord  of  stars,  planets,  and  other  luminous  bodies,  Vi.sva- 
bhavana,13  Tejasvinam-Tejasvi,1  *  Dwadasiitman  :  15  I  salute  thee.  I  salute  thee: 
who  art  the  eastern  mountain.  I  salute  thee  who  art  the  western  mountain.  I 
salute  thee  who  art  the  Lord  of  all  the  luminous  bodies.  I  salute  thee  who  art', 
the  Lord  of  days. 

I  respectfully  salute  thee  who  art  Jaya,1  c  Jayabhadra,1 7  Haryasva,18  O 
Thou  who  hast  a  thousand  rays,  I  repeatedly  salute  thee.  I  repeatedly  and  res- 
pectfully salute  thee  who  art  Aditya,  I  repeatedly  salute  thee  who  art  Ugra, l9 
Vira,*0  and  Saranga.21  I  salute  thee  who  openest  the  lotuses  (or  the  lotus  of  the- 
heart).  I  salute  thee  who  art  furious.  I  salute  thee  who  art  the  Lord  of  Brahma, 
}§iva  and  Vishnu.  I  salute  thee  who  art  the  sun,  Adityavarchas,22  splendid., 
Sarvabhaksha,*3  and  Kaudravapush.24 

I  salute  thee  who  destroyest  darkness,  cold  and  enemies :  whose  form  is ; 
boundless;  who  art  the  destroyer  of  the  ungrateful;  who  art  Deva  ;*5  who  art' 
the  Lord  of  the  luminous  bodies,  and  who  appearest  like  the  heated  gold.  I  salut< 
thee  who  art  Hari,*6  Visvakarman,5*7  the  destroyer  of  darkness,  and  who  arl 
splendid  and  Lokasakshin.*8  Yonder  sun  destroys  the  whole  of  the  materia  i 
world  and  also  creates  ifc.  Yonder  sun  dries  (all  earthly  things),  destroys  them  anc ! 
causes  rain  with  his  rays.  He  wakes  when  our  senses  are  asleep  ;  and  resides 
within  all  beings.  Yonder  sun  is  Agnihotra29  and  also  the  fruit  obtained  by  th< 

1  He  who  is  the  cause  of  heavy  rain. 

z  He  who  is  a  friend  to  the  good,  or  who  is  the  cause  of  water. 

3  One  who  moves  in  the  solar  orbit. 

4  One  who  determines  the  creation  of  the  world  :  or  who  is  possessed  of  heat. 

5  One  who  has  a  mass  of  rays  ;  or  who  has  Kaustubha  and  other  precious  atom 
as  his  ornaments. 

6  He  who  urges  all  to  action  ;  or  who  is  yellow  in  colour. 

7  One  who  is  the  destroyer  of  all. 

8  One  who  is  omniscient ;  or  a  poet. 

9  One  who  is  identified  with  the  whole  world. 

I  °  One  who  is  of  huge  form. 

II  One  who  pleases  all  by  giving  nourishment ;  or  who  is  red  in  colour, 
1  a  One  who  is  the  cause  of  the  whole  world. 

1 3  One  who  protects  the  whole  world. 

1 4  The  most  glorious  of  all  that  are  glorious. 

1 3  One  who  is  identical  with  the  twelve  months. 

1 6  One  who  gives  victory  over  all  the  worlds  to  those  who  are  faithfully  devot 
ed  to  him  ;  or  the  porter  of  Brahma,,  named  Jaya. 

1 7  One  who  is  identical  with  the  blessing  which  can  be  obtained  by  conquering 
all  the  worlds;  or  with  the  porter  of  Brahma  named  Jayabhadra. 

18  One  who  has  Hanuman  as  his  conveyance. 

1 9  One  who  controls  the  senses  ;  or  is  furious  with  those  who  are  not  his  devotees  i 
1  °  He  who  is  free  in  moving  the  senses;  or  urges  all  beings  to  action. 

*•  He  who  can  be  known  through  the  Pranava  (the  mystical  Om-kara.) 
22  One  who  is  the  knowledge  of  Brahma. 
343  One  who  devours  all  things. 
2*  He  who  is  the  destroyer  of  all  pains ;  and  of  love,  and  hate,  the  causes  of  pain 
and  ignorance  which  is  the  cause  of  love  and  hate. 
*5  One  who  is  bliss ;  or  the  mover. 
a6  One  who  destroys  ignorance  and  its  effects, 
27  The  doer  of  all  actions. 

*8  One  who  beholds  the  universe  ;  who  is  a  witness  of  good  and  bad  actions, 
*a  Sacriliee  of  the  five  sensual  tires. 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  557 

performer  of  Agnihotra.  He  is  identified  with  the  god?,  sacrifices,  and  the  fruit 
of  the  sacrifices.  He  is  the  Lord  of  all  the  duties  known  to  the  world,  If  any 
man,  0  Raghava,  in  calamities,  miseries,  forests  and  dangers,  prays  to  yonder  sun, 
lie  is  never  overwhelmed  by  distress. 

Worship,  with  close  attention  Him  the  God  of  gods  and  the  Lord  of  the 
world  ;  and  recite  these  verses  thrice,  whereby  thou  wilt  be  victorious  in  the  battle. 

0  brave  one,  thou  wilt  kill  Ravana  this  very  instant." 

Thereupon  Agastya  having  said  this  went  away  as  he  came.  The  glorious 
Rama  having  heard  this  became  free  from  sorrow.  Raghava  whose  senses  were 
under  control,  being  pleased,  committed  the  hymn  to  memory,  recited  it  facing 
the  sun,  and  obtained  great  delight.  The  brave  Rama  having  sipped  water  thrice 
and  become  pure  took  his  bow,  and  seeing  Ravana,  was  delighted,  and  meditated 

on  the  sun. 

PAGE  490. 

His  liorses  poured  their  burning  tears. 

I  have  omitted  the  Canto  from  which  this  line  is  taken  because  it  describes 
signs  and  portents  similar  to  those  which  have  occurred  in  preceding  books.  But 
the  weeping  of  the  horses  is  new  and  is  too  Homeric  to  be  passed  by  unnoticed. 

1  borrow  the  following  extract  from  De  Quincey  :   "The  old  Homeric  superstition 
which  connects  horses  by  the  closest  sympathy,  and  even  by  prescience,  witli  their 
masters—  that  superstition  which  Virgil  has  borrowed  from  Homer  in  his  beautiful 
episode  of  Mezentins  (Rhcebe  din,  res  si  qua  diu  mortalibus  ulla  est,  Viximus)  — 
still  lingers  unbroken  in  Crete.     Horses  foresee  the  fates  of  riders  who  are  doomed, 
and    express  their   prescience  by  weeping  in  a  human  fashion.     The  horses  of 
Achilles  weep  in   "Iliad"   xvii.,  on  seeing  Automedon  their  beloved  driver  pros- 
trate on  the  ground.     With  this  view  of  the  horse's  capacity,  it  in  singular,  that 
in  Crete  this  animal  by  preference  should  be  called  TO  aXoyov,  the   brute,  or 
irrational  creature.    But  the  word  ITTTTOQ  has,  by  some  accident,  been  lost  in  the 
inodtrn  Greek.    As  an  instance  both  of  the  disparaging  name,  and  of  the  en- 
nobling superstition,  take  the  following  stanza  from  a  Cretan  ballad  of  1825, 
written  in  the  modern  Greek  :-— 


EjcAatc  T  aXoyo  TOV. 
Kat  TOT£(ra  TO  eyvayHcre 

Owe  eivat  6  6avaTO£  TOV" 

"Upon  which  he  mounted,  and  his  horse  wept;   and  then  he  saw  clearly 
how  this  should  bode  his  death." 

Under  the  same  old  Cretan  faith,  Homer  in  "  Iliad  "  xvii.  437,  says  :  — 

"  AaKpUO   Si  (J()L 

Kara  S 


"Tears,  scalding  tears,  trickled  to  the  ground  from  the  eyelids  of  them  (the 
horses),  fretting  through  grief  for  the  loss  of  their  charioteer." 

DE  QUINCEY.    Homer  and  the  Homeridce. 


558  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

PAGE  492. 
RA  VAN'S  FUNERAL. 

"  In  the  funeral  ceremonies  of  India  the  tire  was  placed  on  three  sides  of  the 
pyre ;  the  Dakshina  on  the  south,  the  Gdrhapatya  on  the  west,  and  the  Ahavaniya 
on  the  east.  The  funeral  rites  are  not  described  in  detail  here,  and  it  is  therefore 
difficult  to  elucidate  and  explain  them.  The  poem  assigns  the  funeral  ceremonies 
of  Aryan  Brahmans  to  the  Riikshases,  a  race  different  from  them  in  origin  and 
religion,  in  the  same  way  as  Homer  sometimes  introduces  into  Troy  the  rites  of 
the  Grecian  cult."  GORUESIO. 

Mr.  Muir  translates  the  description  of  the  funeral  from  the  Calcutta  edition, 
as  follows  :  "They  formed,  with  Vedic  rites,  a  funeral  pile  of  faggots  of  sandal- 
wood,  with  padmaka  wood,  usira  grass,  and  sandal,  and  covered  with  a  quilt  of 
deer's  hair.  They  then  performed  an  unrivalled  obsequial  ceremony  for  the 
Raxasa  prince,  placing  the  sacrificial  ground  to  the  S.  E.  and  the  fire  in  the  proper 
situation.  They  cast  the  ladle  filled  with  curds  and  ghee  on  the  shoulder1  of  the 
deceased  ;  he  (?)  placed  the  car  on  the  feet,  and  the  mortar  between  the  thighs. 
Having  deposited  all  the  wooden  vessels,  the  [upper]  and  lower  fire- wood,  and  the 
other  pestle,  in  their  proper  places,  they  departed.  The  Raxasas  having  then  slain 
a  victim  to  their  prince  in  the  manner  prescribed  in  the  &astras,  and  enjoined  by 
great  rishis,  cast  [into  the  fire]  the  coverlet  of  the  king  saturated  with  ghee.  They 
then,  Vibhishana  included,  with  afflicted  hearts,  adorned  Ravana  with  perfumes 
and  garlands,  and  with  various  vestments,  and  besprinkled  him  with  fried  grain. 
Vibhishana  having  bathed,  and  having,  with  his  clothes  wet,  scattered  in  proper 
form  tila  seeds  mixed  with  darWia  grass,  and  moistened  with  water,  applied  the 
flre  [to  the  pile]." 

PAGE  496. 

The  following  is  a  literal  translation  of  Brahma's  address  to  Rama  accord- 
ing to  the  Calcutta  edition,  text  and  commentary  : 

"  O  Rama,  how  dost  thou,  being  the  creator  of  all  the  world,  best  of  all 
those  who  have  profound  knowledge  of  the  Upanishads  and  all-powerful  as  thou 
art,  suffer  Sita  to  fall  in  the  fire  ?  How  dost  thou  not  know  thyself  as  the  best 
of  the  gods  ?  Thou  art  one  of  the  primeval  Vasus,2  and  also  their  lord  and  crea- 
tor. Thou  art  thyself  the  lord  and  first  creator  of  the  three  worlds.  Thou  art 
the  eighth  (that  is  Mahadeva)  of  the  Rudras;3  and  also  the  fifth4  of  the  Sadhyas.* 
(The  poet  describes  Rama  as  made  of  the  following  gods)  The  Asvinikumaras 
(the  twin  divine  physicians  of  the  gods)  are  thy  ears;  the  sun  and  the  moon  are  thy 
eyes  ;  and  thou  hast  been  seen  in  the  beginning  and  at  the  end  of  creation.  How 
dost  thou  neglect  the  daughter  of  Videha  (Janaka)  like  a  man  whose  actions  are 
directed  by  the  dictates  of  nature  ? "  Thus  addressed  by  Indra,  Brahma  and 


1  "According  to  Apastamba  (says  the  commentator*  it  should  have  been  placed 
on  the  nose  :  this  must  therefore  have  been  done  in  conformity  with  some  other 
Sutras." 

*  A  class  of  eight  gods. 

3  A  class  of  eleven  gods  called  Rudras. 

4  Named  Viryavan. 

4  A  class  of  divine  devotees  named  Sadhyas, 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  5S9 

the  other  gods,  Mm  a  the  descendant  of  Raghu,  lord  of  the  world  and  the  best  of 
the  virtuous,  spoke  to  the  chief  of  the  gods.    "  As  I  take  myself  to  be  a  man  of 
the  name  of  Rama  and  son  of  Dasaratha,  therefore,  sir,  please  tell   me  who  I  am 
and  whence  have  I  come."    "O  thou  whose  might  is  never  failing,"  said  Brahma 
to  Kakutstha  the  foremost  of  those  who  thoroughly   know  Brahma,  "Th<;iiart 
Narayana,1  almighty,  possessed  of  fortune,  and  armed   with  the  discus.     Thou 
art  the  boar55  with  one  tusk  j  the  conqueror  of  thy  past   and   future  foes.     Thou 
art  Brahma  true  and  eternal  or  undecaying.    Thou  art  Visvaksena,3  having  fuur 
arms  ;  Thou  art  Hrishikesa,4  whose  bow  is  made  of  horn:  Thou  art   Purusha,5 
the  best  of  all  beings  •  Thou  art  one  who  is  never  defeated   bv  any   body;  Thou 
art  the  holder  of  the  sword  (named  Nandaka).    Thou  art  Vishnu  ithe  pervader  of 
all);  blue  in  colour:  of  great  might;  the  commander  of  armies:  and  lord  of  villages. 
Thou  art  truth..    Thou  art  embodied  intelligence,   forgiveness,  control   over   the 
senses,  creation,  and  destruction,    Thou  art  Upend  ra6  and  Aladhusudana.?  Thou 
art)  the  creator  of  Indra,  the  ruler  over  all  the  world,  Padmanabha.8  and  destroyer 
of  enemies  in  the  battle.    The  divine  Rishis  call  thee  shelter  of  refugees,   as  well 
as  the  giver  of  shelter.    Thou  hast  a  thousand  horns,9  a  hundred  heads  '  °     Thou 
art  respected  of  the  respected  ;  and  the  lord  and  first  creator  of   the  three  worlds. 
Thou  art  the  forefather  and  shelter  of  Siddhas,1  >  and  Sfidhyas  '  *  Thou  art  sacri- 
fices ;  Vashatkara,1 3  Omkara.1 «  Thou  art  beyond  those  who  are  beyond  our  senses. 
There  is  none  who  knows  who  thou  art  and  who  knows  thy  beginning  and   end. 
Thou  art  seen  in  all  material  objects,  in  Brd&mans,  in  cows,  and  also  in  all   the 
quarters,  sky  and  streams.    Thou  hast  a  thousand  feet,   a  hundred  heads,  and  a 
thousand  eyes.    Thou  hast  borne  the  material  objects  and   the  earth  with   the 
mountains;  and  at  the  bottom  of   the  ocean  thou  art  seen  the  great  serpent,     O 
Kama,  Thou  hast  borne  the  three  worlds,  gods,   Gandharvas,1  5    and  demons.    I 
am,  O  Rarna,  thy  heart ;  the  goddess  of  learning  is  thy  tongue  ;  the  gods  are  the 
hairs  of  thy  body  ;  the  closing  of  thy  eyelids  is  called  the  night :  and  their  open- 
ing is  called  the  day.  The  Vedas  are  thy  Sanskaras.1*  Nothing  can  exist  without 
thee.    The  whole  world  is  thy  body  ;  the  surface  of  the  earth  is  thy  stability. 

1  One  who  resides  in  the  waters. 

*  The  third  incarnation  of  Vishnu,  that  bore  the  earth  on  his  tusk. 

3  One  whose  armies  are  everywhere. 

<  One  who  controls  the  senses. 

.*  He  who  resides  in  the  heart,  or  who  is  full,  or  all-peryading. 

6  Vanaana,  or  the  Dwarf  incarnation  of  Vishnu. 

7  The  killer  of  Madhu,  a  demon. 

8  He  from  whose  navel,  the  lotus,  from  which  Brahma  was  born,  springs. 

9  He  who  has  a  thousand  horns.    The  horns  are  here  the  Sakhas  of  the  Sama- 

10  One  who  has  a  hundred  heads,    The  heads  are  here  meant  to  devote  a  hun- 
dred commandments  of  the  Vedas. 

J !  Siddhas  are  those  who  have  already  gamed  the  summit  of  their  desires. 
1  *  Sadhyas  are  those  that  .are  still  trying  to  gain  the  summit. 

13  A  mystic  syllable  uttered  in  Mantras.. 

1 4  A  mystia  syllable  made  of  the  letters  sjf,  3,  jj,  which  respectively  denote  Brah- 
ma, Vishnu,  and  $iva« 

1 3  A  ela'ss  of  divine  gods. 

i 6  Sanskaras  are  those  sacred  writings  through  which  the  divine  commands  and 
prohibitions  are  known. 


560  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

O  Srivatsalakshana,  fire  is  thy  anger,  and  the  moon  is  thy  favour.  In  the  time 
of  thy  incarnation  named  Vamana,  thou  didst  pervade  the  three  worlds  with  thy 
three  steps  ;  and  Maheiidra  was  made  the  king  of  paradise  by  thee  having  confin- 
ed the  fearful  Bali.1  8ita  (thy  wife)  is  Lakshmi ;  and  thou  art  the  God  Vishnu,2 
Krishna,3  and  Prajapati.  To  kill  Ravan  thou  hast  assumed  the  form  of  a  man  ; 
therefore,  O  best  of  the  virtuous,  thou  hast  completed  this  task  imposed  by  us 
(gods).  O  Rama,  Havana  has  been  killed  by  thee  ;  now  being  joyful  (e  i.  having 
for  some  time  reigned  in  the  kingdom  of  Ayodhya,)  go  to  paradise.  O  glorious 
Rama,  thy  power  and  thy  valour  are  never  failing.  The  visit  to  thee  and  the 
prayers  made  to  thee  are  never  fruitlsss.  Thy  devotees  will  never  be  unsuccessful. 
Thy  devotees  who  obtain  thee  (thy  favour)  who  art  first  and  best  of  mankind, 
shall  obtain  their  desires  in  this  world  as  well  as  in  the  next.  They  who  recite 
this  prayer,  founded  on  the  Vedas  (or  first  uttered  by  the  sages),  and  the  old  and 
divine  account  of  (Rama)  shall  never  suffer  defeat." 

THE  MEETING,  PAGE  503. 

The  Bliarat-Mildp  or  meeting  with  Bharat,  is  the  closing  scene  of  the 
dramatic  representation  of  Rama's  great  victory  and  triumphant  return  which, 
takes  place  annually  in  October  in  many  of  the  cities  of  Northern  India.  The 
Ram-Lila  or  Play  of  Rama,  as  the  great  drama  is  called, is  performed  in  the  open 
air  and  lasts  with  one  day's  break  through  fifteen  successive  days.  At  Benares 
there  are  three  nearly  simultaneous  performances,  one  provided  by  H.  PI.  the 
Maharajah  of  Benares  near  his  palace  at  Ramnaggur,  one  by  H.  H.  the  Maharajah 
of  Vizianagram  near  the  Missionary  settlement  at  JSigra  and  at  other  places  in 
the  city,  and  one  by  the  leading  gentry  of  the  city  at  Chowka  Ghat  near  the 
College.  Tiie  scene  especially  on  the  great  day  when  the  brothers  meet  is  most 
interesting  :  the  procession  of  elephants  with  their  gorgeous  howdahsof  silver  and 
gold  and  their  magnificently  dressed  riders  with  priceless  jewels  sparkling  in  their 
turbans,  the  enthusiasm  of  the  thousands  of  spectators  who  fell  the  streets  and 
squares,  the  balconies  and  the  housetops,  the  flowers  that  are  rained  down  upon 
the  advancing  car,  the  wild  music,  the  shouting  and  the  joy,  make  an  impression, 
that  is  not  easily  forgotten. 

Still  on  his  head)  well  trained  in  lore 

Of  duty,  Hamas  shoes  he  bore. 

Rama's  si  oes  are  here  regarded  as  the  emblems  of  royalty  or  possession. 
We  may  compare  the  Hebrew  "  Over  Edom  will  I  cast  forth  my  shoe."  A  curi- 
ously similar  passage  occurs  in  LYSCHANDER'S  Chronicon  Greenlandice  Rhyth- 

micon  : 

"  Han  sendte  til  Irland  sin  skid  en  skoe, 
Og  bod  den  Konge,  som  der  monne  boe, 
Han  skulde  dem  luuderlig  bsere 
Pan  Juuledag  i  sin  kongelig  Pragt, 
Og  kjende  han  havde  sit  Rige  og  Magt 
Af  Norges  og  Quernes  Herre." 

1  Bali,  a  demon  whom  Vamana  confined  in  Fatal  a, 

a  Vishnu,  the  socoud  of  the  Hindu   triad. 

3  Krishna,  ^ black  coloured)  one  of  the  ten  incarnations  of  Vishnu. 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  561 

He  sent  to  Ireland  his  dirty  shoes, 

And  commanded  the  king  who  lived  there 

To  wear  them  with  honour 

On  Christmas  Day  in  his  royal  state, 

And  to  own  that  he  had  his  kingdom  and  power 

From,  the  Lord  of  Norway  and  the  Isles. 

Notes  £  Queries,  March  30,  1872. 

I  end  these  notes  with  an  extract  which  I  translate  from  Signer  Gorresio's 
Preface  to  the  tenth  volume  of  his  Ramayan,  and  I  take  this  opportunity  of  again 
thankfully  acknowledging  my  great  obligations  to  this  eminent  Sanskritist  from 
\vhom  I  have  so  frequently  borrowed.  As  Mr.  Muir  has  observed,  the  Bengal  re- 
cension which  Signer  Gorresio  has  most  ably  edited  is  throughout  an  admirable 
commentary  on  the  genuine  Ramayan  of  northern  India,  and  1  have  made  cons- 
tant reference  to  the  faithful  and  elegant  translation  which  accompanies  the  text 
for  assistance  and  conh'rmation  in  difficulties  : 

"Towards  the  southern  extremity  and  in  the  island  of  Lanka  (Ceylon)  there 
existed  undoubtedly  a  black  and  ferocious  race,  averse  to  the  Aryans  and  hostile 
to  their  mode  of  worship  :  their  ramifications  extended  through  the  islands  of  the 
Archipelago,  and  some  traces  of  them  remain  in  Java  to  this  day. 

The  Sanskrit-Indians,  applying  to  this  race  a  name  expressive  of  hatred 
which  occurs  in  the  Vedas  as  the  name  of  hostile,  savage  and  detested  beings, 
called  it  the  Rakshas  race:  it  is  against  these  Rakshases  that  the  expedition  of 
Rama  which  the  Ramayan  celebrates  is  directed.  The  Sanskrit-Indians  certainly 
altered  in  their  traditions  the  real  character  of  this  race :  they  attributed  to  it 
physical  and  moral  qualities  not  found  in  human  nature ;  they  transformed  it 
into  a  race  of  giants  ;  they  represented  it  as  monstrous,  hideous,  truculent,  chang- 
ing forms  at  will,  blood-thirsty  and  ravenous,  just  as  the  Semites  represented  the 
races  that  opposed  them  as  impious,  horrible  and  of  monstrous  size.  But  notwith- 
standing these  mythical  exaggerations,  which  are  partly  due  to  the  genius  of  the 
Aryans  so  prone  to  magnify  everything  without  measure,  the  Ramayan  in  the 
course  of  its  epic  narration  has  still  preserved  and  noted  here  and  there  some  traits 
and  peculiarities  of  the  race  which  reveal  its  true  character.  It  represents  the 
Rakshases  as  black  of  hue,  and  compares  them  with  black  clouds  and  masses  of 
black  oollyrium  ;  it  attributes  to  them  curly  woolly  hair  and  thick  lips,  it  depicts 
them  as  loaded  with  chains,  collars  and  girdles  of  gold,  and  the  other  bright  orna- 
ments which  their  race  has  always  loved,  and  in  which  the  kindred  races  of  the 
Soudan  still  delight.  It  describes  them  as  worshippers  of  matter  and  force. 
They  are  hostile  to  the  religion  of  the  Aryans  whose  rites  and  sacrifices  they 
disturb  and  ruin. ..Such  is  the  Rakshas  race  as  represented  in  the  Ramayan  ;  and 
the  war  of  the  Aryan  Rama  forms  the  subject  of  the  epic,  a  subject  certainly  real 
and  historical  as  far  as  regards  its  substance,  but  greatly  exaggerated  by  the 
ancient  myth.  In  Sanskrit  -Indian  tradition  are  found  traces  of  another  struggle 
of  the  Aryans  with  the  Rakshas  races,  which  preceded  the  war  of  Rama.  Accord- 
ing to  some  pauranic  legends,  Karttavirya  a  descendant  of  the  royal  tribe  of  the 
Yadavas,  contemporary  with  Farasurama  and  a  little  anterior  to  Rama,  attacked 
Lanka,  and  ;took  Ravan  prisoner.  This  well  shows  how  ancient  and  how  deeply- 
rooted  in  the  Aryan  race  is  the  thought  of  this  war  which  the  Ramayan  celebrates. 


562  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

"But,"  says  an  eminent  Indianist1  whose  learning  I  highly  appreciate, 
"the  Ramayan  is  an  allegorical  epic,  and  no  precise  and  historical  value  can  be 
assigned  to  it.  Sita  signifies  the  furrow  made  by  the  plough,  and  under  this 
symbolical  aspect  has  already  appeared  honoured  with  worship  in  the  hymns  of 
the  Rig-veda;  Rama  is  the  bearer  of  the  plough  (this  assertion  is  entirely  gra- 
tuitous ;  these  two  allegorical  personages  represented  agriculture  introduced  to 
the  southern  regions  of  India  by  the  race  of  the  Kosalas  from  whom  Rama  was 
descended  ;  the  Raksbases  on  whom  he  makes  war  are  races  of  demons  and  giants 
who  have  little  or  nothing  human  about  them;  allegory  therefore  predominates 
in  the  poem,  and  the  exact  reality  of  an  historical  event  must  not  be  looked  for 
in  it."  Such  is  Professor  Weber's  opinion.  If  he  means  to  say  that  mythical 
fictions  are  mingled  with  real  events, 

Forsan  in  alcun  vero  suo  arco  percuote, 

as  Dante  says,  and  I  fully  concede  the  point.  The  interweaving  of  the  myth  with 
the  historical  truth  belongs  to  the  essence,  so  to  speak,  of  the  primitive  epopeia. 
If  Sita  is  born,  as  the  Ramayan  feigns,  from  the  furrow  which  King  Janak  opened 
when  he  ploughed  the  earth,  not  a  whit  more  real  is  the  origin  of  Helen  and 
JSneas  as  related  in  Homer  and  Virgil,  and  if  the  characters  in  the  Ramayan 
exceed  human  nature,  and  in  a  greater  degree  perhaps  than  is  the  case  in  analo- 
gous epics,  this  springs  in  part  from  the  nature  of  the  subject  and  still  more  from 
the  symbol-loving  genius  of  the  orient.  Still  the  characters  of  the  Ramayan, 
although  they  exceed  more  or  less  the  limits  of  human  nature,  act  notwithstanding 
in  the  course  of  the  poem,  speak,  feel,  rejoice  and  grieve  according  to  the  natural 
impulse  of  human  passions.  But  if  by  saying  that  the  Raraayan  is  an  allegorical 
epic,  it  is  meant  that  its  fundamental  subject  is  nothing  but  allegory,  that  the  war 
of  the  Aryan  Rama  against  the  Rakshas  race  is  an  allfgory,  that  the  conquest  of 
the  southern  region  and  of  the  island  of  Lanka  is  an  allegory,  I  do  not  hesitate 
to  answer  that  such  a  presumption  cannot  be  admitted  and  that  the  thing  is  in  my 
opinion  impossible.  Father  Paolino  da  S.  Bartolommeo,2  had  already,  together 
with  other  strange  opinions  of  his  own  on  Indian  matters,  brought  forward  a 
similar  idea,  that  is  to  say  that  the  exploit  of  Rama  which  is  the  subject  of  the 
liamayan  was  a  symbol  and  represented  the  course  of  the  sun  :  thus  he  imagined 
that  Brahma  was  the  earth,  Vishnu  the  water,  and  that  his  avatars  were  the 
blessings  brought  by  the  fertilizing  waters,  etc.  But  such  ideas,  born  at  a  time 
when  Indo-sanskrit  antiquities  were  enveloped  in  darkness,  have  been  dissipated 
by  the  light  of  new  studies.  How  could  an  epic  so  dear  in  India  to  the  memory 
of  the  people,  so  deeply  rooted  for  many  centuries  in  the  minds  of  all,  so  pro- 
pagated  and  diffused  through  all  the  dialects  and  languages  of  those  regions, 
which  had  become  the  source  of  many  dramas  which  are  still  represented  in 
India,  which  is  itself  represented  every  year  with  such  magnificence  and  to  such 
crowds  of  people  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Ayodhya,  a  poem  welcomed  at  its  very 
birth  with  such  favour,  as  the  legend  relate?,  that  the  recitation  of  it  by  the  tirst 
wandering  Rhapsodists  has  consecrated  and  made  famous  all  the  places  celebrated 

1  A.  Weber,  Akademische  Vorlesungen,  p.  181. 

2  Systema  brahmanicum,  liturgicum,    mythologicum,  civile,  exmonumentis 
Indicis,  etc. 


ADDITIONAL  KO-TES..  563 


by  them,  and  where  Rama  made^a  shorter  or  longer  stay,  how,  I  ask,  cmild  such 
an  epic  have  been  purely  allegorical  ?  How,  upon  a-  pure  invention,  upon  a  simple 
allegory,  could  a  poem  have  been  composed  of  about  fifty  thousand  verses,  relat- 
ing with  such  force  and  power  the  events,  and  giving  details  with  such  exactness  ? 
On  a  theme  purely  allegorical  there  may  easily  be  composed  a  short  mythical 
poem,,  as  for  example  a  poem  on  Proserpine  or  Psyche  :  but  never  an  epic  so  full 
of  traditions  and  historical  memories,  so  intimately  connected  with  the  life  of 
the  people,  a&the  Ramayan.1  Excessive  readiness  to  find  allegory  whenever  some 
traces  of  symbolism  occur,  where  the  myth  partly  veils  the  historical  reality,,may 
Itad  and  often  has  led  to  error.  What  poetical  work  of  mythical  times  could 
stand'  this  mode  of  trial?  could  there  not  be  made,  or  rather  has  there  not  been 
made  a  work  altogether  allegorical,  out  of  the  Homeric-  poems  /  We  have  all* 
heard  of  the  ingenious  idea  of  the  anonymous  writer,,  who-  in'  order  to  prove  how' 
easily  we  may  pass  beyond  the  truth  in  our  wish  to  seek  and  find  allegory  every- 
where^ undertook  with  keen  subtlety  to  prove  tlrat  the  great  personality  of 
Napoleon  I.  was  altogether  allegorical  and  represented  the  sun.  Napoleon  was 
born  i&  an-  island-,  his  course  was  from  west  to  east,  his  twelve1  marshals  were  the 
twelve  signs  of  the  zodi'ac,  etc. 

I  conclude  then,  that  the  fundamental  theme  of  the  Ramayan,  that  is  to 
say  the  war  of  the  Aryan  Rama  against  the  Bak*hases,.an  Hamitic  race  settled 
in  the  south,  ought  toibe  regarded  as  real  and  historical  as  far  as  regards  its  sub- 
stance, .although  the  mythic  element  intermingled  with  the  true  sometimes  alters 
its  natural  and  genuine  aspect. 

How  then  did:  the  Indo-Sanskrit  epopeia  form  and  complete  itself  ?    What 
elements  did  it  interweave  in  its  progress  ?    How  didiit  embody,  how  did  it  clothe 
the  nuked  and  simple-  primitive  datum;?    We  must  first  of  all  remember  that  the1 
Indo-European  races  possessed  the  epic  genius  in  the   highest  degree,  and  that 
they  alone  in  the  different  regions  they  occupied  produced  epic  poetry.  ..But  other 
causes  and  particular  influences  combined  to  nourish  and   develop  the   epic  germ 
of  the  Sanskrit-Indians.    Already  in.  the  B4g-veda  are  found  hymns  in  which  the 
Aryan  genius  preluded,  so>to  speak,  to  the  future  epopeia,  in  songs  that  celebrat- 
ed the  heroic  deeds  of  Indra,.the  combats  and  the  victories  of  the   tutelary  Gods 
of  the  Aryan  races  over  enemies  secret  or  open,   human   or  superhuman,   the  ex- 
ploits and  the  memories  of  ancient  heroes.     More  recently,  at  certain  solemn 
occasions,,  as  the  very  learned   A.  Weber  remarks,  at  the  solemnity,   f  01^  example' 
of  the  Asvamedha  or  sacrifice  of  the  horse,  the  praises  of  the  king  who  ordained 
the  great  rite  were  sung  by  bards  and  minstrels  in  songs  composed   for  the  pur- 
pose,, the  memories  of  past  times  were  recalled  and  honourable  mention  was  made 
of  the  just  and  pious  kings  o£  old.    In  the  Brdhnwnas,  a  sort  of   prose   commen- 
taries annexed  to  the  Vedas,  are  found  recorded  stories  and  legends  which  allude 
to  historical  events  of  the  past  ages,,  to  ancient  memories,,  and  to  mythical  events. 
Such  popular  legends  which  the  Brahmanas  undoubtedly  gathered  from  tradition 
admirably  suited  the  epic  tissue  with  which   they  were  interwoven  by  successive 
hands  ......  Many  and  various  mythico-historical  traditions,  .suitable  fpr  epic  deve- 

lopment, were  diffused  among  the  Aryan  races,  those  for  example  which  are  relat- 

1  Not  only  have  the  races  of  India  translated  or  epitomized   it,   but  foreign  na- 
tions have  appropriated  it  wholly  or  in  part,  Persia,  Java,  and  Japan  itself, 

40 


564  ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 

ed  in  the  four  chapters  containing  the  description  of  the  earth,  the  Descent  of  the 
Ganges,  etc.  The  epic  genius  however  smetimes  created  beings  of  its  own  and 
gave  body  and  life  to  ideal  conceptions.  Some  of  the  persons  in  the  Ramayan 
must  be,  in  ray  opinion,  either  personifications  of  the  forces  of  nature  like  those 
•which  are  described  with  such  vigour  in  the  Shdhndmah,  or  if  not  exactly  create  !, 
exaggerated  beyond  human  proportions  ;  others,  vedic  personages  much  more  an- 
cient than  Kama,  were  introduced  into  the  epic  and  woven  into  its  narrations,  to 
bring  together  men  who  lived  in  different  and  distant  ages,  as  has  been  the  case 
in  times  nearer  to  our  own,  in  the  epics,  I  mean,  of  the  middle  ages. 

In  the  introduction  I  have  discussed  the  antiquity  of  the  Ramayan ; 
and  by  means  of  those  critical  and  inductive  proofs  which  are  all  that  an 
antiquity  without  precise  historical  dates  can  furnish  I  have  endeavoured  to 
establish  with  all  the  certainty  that  the  subject  admitted,  that  the  original 
composition  of  the  Ramayan  is  to  be  assigned  to  about  the  twelfth  century  before 
the  Christian  era.  Not  that  I  believe  that  the  epic  then  sprang  to  life  in  the 
form  in  which  we  now  possess  it ;  I  think,  and  I  have  elsewhere  expressed  the 
opinion,  that  the  poem  during  the  course  of  its  rhapsodical  and  oral  propagation 

appropriated  by  way  of  episodes,  traditions,  legends  and  ancient  myths But 

as  far  as  regards  the  epic  poem  properly  so  called  which  celebrates  the  expedi- 
tion of  Raina  against  the  Rakshases  I  think  that  I  have  sufficiently  shown  that 
its  origin  and  first  appearance  should  be  placed  about  the  twelfth  century  B.C.; 
nor  have  I  hitherto  met  with  anything  to  oppose  this  chronological  result,  or  to 

oblige  me  to  rectify  or  reject  it But  an  eminent  philologist  already  quoted, 

deeply  versed  in  these  studies,  A.  Weber,  has  expressed  in  some  of  his  writings  a 
totally  different  opinion  ;  and  the  authority  of  his  name,  if  not  the  number  and 
cogency  of  his  arguments,  compels  me  to  say  something  on  the  subject.  From 
the  fact  or  rather  the  assumption  that  Megasthenes1  who  lived  some  time  in 
India  has  made  no  mention  either  of  the  Mahabharat  or  the  Ramayan  Professor 
Weber  argues  that  neither  of  these  poems  could  have  existed  at  that  time  ;  as  re- 
gards the  Ramayan,  the  unity  of  its  composition,  the  chain  that  binds  together 
its  different  parts,  and  its  allegorical  character,  show  it,  says  Professor  Weber,  to 
be  much  more  recent  than  the  age  to  which  I  have  assigned  it,  near  to  our  own 
era,  and  according  to  him,  later  than  the  Mahabharat.  As  for  Megasthenes  it 
should  be  observed,  that  he  did  not  write  a  history  of  India,  much  less  a  literary 
history  or  anything  at  all  resembling  one,  but  a  simple  description,  in  great  part 
physical,  of  India  :  whence,  from  his  silence  on  literary  matters  to  draw  infer- 
ences regarding  the  history  of  Sanskrit  literature  would  be  the  same  thing  as 
from  the  silence  of  a  geologist  with  respect  to  the  literature  of  a  country  whose 
valleys,  mountains,  and  internal  structure  he  is  exploring,  to  conjecture  that  such 
and  such  a  poem  or  history  not  mentioned  by  him  did  not  exist  at  his  time.  We 
have  only  to  look  at  the  fragments  of  Megasthenes  collected  and  published  by 

Schwanbeck  to  see  what  was  the  nature  and  scope  of  his  Indica But 

only  a  few  fragments  of  Megasthenes  are  extant  ;  and  to  pretend  that  they 
should  be  argument  and  proof  enough  to  judge  the  antiquity  of  a  poem  is  to  press 
the  laws  of  criticism  too  far.  To  Professor  Weber's  argument  as  to  the  more  or 

1  In  the  third  century  B,  C. 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES. 


5(55 


less  recent  age  of  the  Ramayan  from  the  unity  of  its  composition,  I  will  make 
one  sole  reply,  which  is  that  if  unity  of  composition  were  really  a  proof  of  a  more 
recent  age,  it  would  be  necessary  to  reduce  by  a  thousand  years  at  least  the  age 
of  Homer  and  bring  him  down  to  the  age  of  Augustus  and  Virgil;  for  certainly 
there  is  much  more  unity  of  composition,  a  greater  accord  and  harmony  of  parts 
in  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey  than  in  the  Ramayan.  But  in  the  fine  arts  perfec- 
tion  is  no  proof  of  a  recent  age:  while  the  experience  and  the  continuous  labour 
of  successive  ages  are  necessary  to  extend  and  perfect  the  physical  or  natural 
sciences,  art  which  is  spontaneous  in  its  nature  can  produce  and  has  produced  in 
remote  times  works  of  such  perfection  as  later  ages  have  not  been  able  to  equal." 


INDEX  OF  PRINCIPAL  NAMES. 


Abhijit,  24. 

Abhikala,  176. 

Abhira,  444. 

Abravanti,  374. 

Aditi,  31,  57,  58.  125,  201,  245,  246. 

Adityas,  246,  403. 

Agastya,  5,9, 40, 132, 151, 239, 240. 242, 244, 

262,265,  28'J,  375,  4£9,  491,,50Q. 
Agneya,  178. 

Agni,'  38,  74,  109,  132,  240,  243,  276. 
Agnivarna,  82,  220. 
Agniketu.  433  note,  45.9. 
Abalya,,  60,  61,  62. 
Ailadhana,  178. 
Air,  2,  28,  203.. 
Airavat,  14,  110, 178,  -246,  256.,  267,  335, 

399,  402,  415,  429.,  437,  472. 
Aja,  82,,  220,  465. 
Ajas,  270,  271. 

Akampau,  2G5,  2GG,  468.  481. 
Aksha,  6,  420,  469,  471. 
Akurvati,  178. 
Alaka,  203  note. 
Alambusha,^,  198, 1$9, 
Alarka,  104-,  107. 
Amar&vatl,  13  203  note,  28$. 
Ambarisha.  72,  73,  74,  82,  220. 
Anmrtarajas,  46. 
Anala,  455  note. 
Anala,  245,  246. 
Ananta,  373. 
Ananmva,  81,  219.  470. 
Anasuya,  9,  226,  227,  228. 
Andhak,  264. 
Andhras,  549. 
Anga,  38. 
Angad,  342,   348,  350,  352  ff.,  363,  364 

note,  367,  374,  *79  ff.,  391,  402,  425  ff,, 

489,  442,  445,  448,  456, 458,  459,  475,  479 

ff.,  505, 

Angas,  15,  18,19,21,  102. 
Angiras,  133,  245. 
An  Jan.  14,  368,  369. 
a,  392. 


A. 

AnfodMna,  179. 

Ansuman.  50,  53,  56,  82,  220. 

Auuhlada.  370. 

Aparparyat,  178. 

Aparbala,  175. 

Apsarases.  57,  198,  199,  229,  378, 

Aptoryam,  24. 

Arishta,  424,425, 

Arishtanemi,  49,,  245,  392. 

Arjun,  86. 

Arjuna,  518. 

Arthasadhak,  14. 

Arun,  246. 

Arundhatf,  19,244,413. 

Aryamari,  124. 

Aryan,  92. 

Asamanj,  50,  53,  82,  138,  220. 

Asit,  81,  21,9. 

Asok.  14,  175, 

Asoka,  6,  10,  101,  205,  278,  296,  297,  300, 

318,  321,  357,  403,  444.,  452,  456. 
Asta,  377,  379  note. 
Asars,  57,  58,  380,  381,  387,   394,   407, 

413,  420. 
Asvagriva,  246. 
Asvamedh,  29,  236  note. 
Asvapati,  89,  131,  178,  183. 
As v atari,  346. 
Asvin,  371. 
Asvini,  343. 
Asvins,  28,  36,  60,  62,  163,  246,  339,  343, 

403,   490. 

Atikaya,  468,  478  ff. 
Atircltra,  24, 
Atri,  245,  501. 
Aurva,  373  note. 
Avanti,  374. 
Avindhya,  415. 
Ayodhya,  4,  6,  11,  12,  14,  19,  32,  33,  38, 

49,  70,  72.  79,  81,  83,  84,  85,  88,  95,  96, 

passim. 
Ayouiukh,  374. 
Ayonaukhi.  310, 


INDEX. 


56T 


B. 


Bahika,  176. 

Bahuputra,  245. 

Bala,  264. 

Balakhilyas,  63,  235,  270,  271 ,  374. 

Bali,  43,  59,  107,  275,  302,  421. 

Bali,  5,  9,  29,  318,  324,  328,  329,  332ff.f 
344,  356  ff.,  362,  364,  366,  367,  379, 
380,  391,  404,  412,  420,  440,  442,  448, 
456,  458,  475,  478,  500,  503,  505. 

Barbars,  66. 

Beauty,  26,  29,  58,  88,  283,  455. 

Bhadamadra,  246, 

Bhadra,  52. 

Bhaga,  124,  243. 

Bhagfrath,  53,  54,  55,  82,  220,  372. 

Bhagirathi,  56. 

Bharadvaja,  4,  7,  9, 10, 158,  159,  193, 196, 
197,  199,  200,  201,  501. 


Bharat,  4.  9,  10,  32,  81,  83,  84,  88,  89,  94, 

97,  passim. 
Bharatas,  550. 
Bharuncla,  178. 
Bhasf,  246. 
Bhasakarna,  42d. 
Bhava,  78. 
Bhima,  198. 

Bhogavati,  12  note,  267,  375. 
Bhrigu,  40,  63,  73,  81,  85,  86,  88, 133, 220. 
Brahma,  6,  7,  10, 19,  25,  26,  33?  38,  39, 42, 

46,  48,  f>4,  56,  59,  61,  63,  65,  67,  68,  74, 

75,  77,  81,  passim. 
Brahmadatta,  46,  47. 
Brahmadikas,  133  note. 
Bhrahmamalas,  548. 
Budha,  287. 
Buddhist,  219. 


Cancer,  109. 
Ceylon,  375  note. 
Chaitra,  91. 


c. 

Chanclala,  69,  70. 
Chatusbtom,  24. 
Chitra,  111,250,283. 


Cbaitraratha,41,178,199,  267,  279,  315,    Chitrakuta,  4,  9,  160,  161,  197,  200,  201, 


493. 

Chakravan,  376. 
Champa,  30. 
Chamla,  448. 
Chandra,  464. 


Dadhimukh,  426. 

Dadhivakra,  364  note. 

Daitya,  125, 152,  211,  246,  289,  306,  371, 

418. 

Daksha,  36,  78,  228,  245,  257,  396. 
Danav,  255,  270,  306,307,311,371,372, 

382,  432,  44'<,  477. 
Dandak,  9,  99, 103, 117, 124, 126,  130, 166, 

181,  199,211,238,271,374, 
Dandaka,  5. 
Daiiii,  245,  246,  313. 
Dapple-skin,  64,  65. 
Dardar,  110, 198. 
Dardur,  448. 
Darimukha,  371, 
Dasprna,  374. 


202,  209,  235,  236,  317,  416,  501. 
Chitraratha,  132. 
Cholas,  549. 
Chuli,  47. 
Chyavan,  81,  220. 

D. 

Dasaratha.  3,  9,  12,  14,  16,  18  fl.,  25,  26, 
29,  30,  32,  34,  41,  61, 62,  77,  79,  80  If  „  91, 
92,  95,  passim. 

Dasyus,  444. 

Devamidha,  82. 

Devantak,  479,  480, 

Devarat,  77,  82,  86. 

Devasakha,  378. 

Devavati,  515. 

Dbanyamalini,  481. 

Dhanvautari,  57  note. 

Dharmabhrit,  240. 

Dharmapal,  14. 

Dharmarnnya,  46. 

Dharmavardhan,  179. 

Dhritarashtri,  246. 


INDEX. 


Dhriabtaketu,  82. 

Dhrishti,  14,  202.       - 

Dhruvasandhi,  81,  219. 

Dhumra,  371,448. 

Dhumraksha,  433  note,  465,  466. 

Dlmmrasva,  60,  481. 

Dhundhumar,  81, 171,  219. 

Diksha,  44. 

Dilfpa,5note,53,54,  56,82,171, 190,220. 

Diti,  58,  59.  245,  246,  323. 

Dragon,  101, 

JDridhanetra,  68. 

Drishti,  202. 

Drona,  464. 

Ekapadakas,  549. 


Drumakulya,  444. 

Dundhubi,  333,  335,  338. 

Durdhar,  420. 

Durdharsha,  433  note. 

Durnmkha.  432,  433  note. 

Durjaya.  256  note. 

Durvasas,  521. 

Dushan,  5,  250, 254. 255. 256. 258,  259, 261, 

264.  265,  267—271,  294,  461,  502. 
Dwida,  364  note. 
Dwijihva,  474. 

Dwivid,  371, 428,430,449,451,475,483,484. 
Dwivida,  28. 
Dyumatsena,  129. 

E. 
Ekasala,  179. 

P. 

Fame,  26,  283.  Fire,  2,  30,  45,  49,  218,  374. 

Fate,  42,  68,  70,  71,  81. 119,  122, 123, 130,    Fortune,  2,  58.  90,  94,  124,  146, 160,  188, 

181,  182, 195, 256,  293,  296,  309, 343, 349,        242,  244,  283.  449,  453. 

351,  354,  386,  404,  415,  439,  492.  Fire-god,  74, 124,  328. 

G. 


Gavaya,  364  note,  371,  429,  448.  468. 
Gaya,  482. 
Gaya,  216. 


Gadhi,  40,  48,  63,  64,  67,  68. 

Gaja,  364  note,  371,  429,  449,  459. 

Galava,  518. 

Gandhamadan,  28, 159,  381,  429, 446, 476.    Gayatri,  243. 

Gandharva,  199,  256,  258,  259,  278,  285.      Ghritachi,  46,  198,  367. 

351 ,  396, 425,  437. 441, 454, 466, 468, 491.    Ghoralohamukhas,  548. 
Gandharvas,  267,  270,  281,  283,  306,  307,    Girivraja,  46, 176. 

308, 318, 364,  370,  375, 377, 388, 394, 409,    Glory,  301. 

420,432,449,455,472. 
Gandharvi,  246,  265. 
Ganga,  7,  9,  37,  38,  45,  48,  4$.  passim 


Godavari,  245,  247, 248, 249,  282,303, 310, 

374,  500. 
Gokarna,  54. 


Garud,  28,  29,  53,  246,  271,  373,  453,  465,    Golabh,  351. 


470,  475. 

Gautam,  60,  61,  62,  505. 
Gautama,  236. 
Garga,  133. 
Gavaksha,  364  note,  429, 449, 468, 475,476.  Guhyakas,  378. 

H, 

Haha,  198.  Hara,  448. 

Haihayas,  81,  219.  Hari,  246. 

Hanuman,  5,  9.  10,  28,  324  ff.,  328,  332,  Haritas,  66. 

337,  340  350, 355, 359, 360, 363, 364  note,  Haryasva,  82. 

368, 371 ,  374,  378  ff .,  392  if.,  411  ff .,  324 

ff.  449,  456. 


Gomati,  151,  179,  448,  502,  503. 
Gopa,  199. 

Guha,  4,  9,  152—156,  162,  192,  193, 194, 
208,  501. 


Hastinapura,  176. 
Hastiprishthak,  179. 


INDEX. 


569 


Havishyand,  68. 


Hiranyakasipu,  391  note,  407. 


Hayagriva,  340,  376.  Hiranyanabha,  500. 

Hema,  198,  382.  Hladiui,  55,  178. 

Hemachandra,  60.  Honour,  283. 

Heti,  515.  Hotri,  24. 

Himalaya,  3,  14, 45,  48,  49,  50, 53,  54,  61,  Hrasvaroma,  82. 

67,  76,  81,  88.  Huhu,  198. 
Himavan,  380. 

I. 

Ikshumati,  80,  176.  Indrajanu,  371  note. 

Ikshvaku,  2,  11,   13,  18,  24,  25,  35,  59,  Indrajit,  420,  432,  436,  437,441,455,  459 

60,  69,  70,  71,  73,  81,  82,  83,  90,  94,        ff.,  482,  485. 

96,  103,  219,  390.  Indrasatru,  433  note. 

Ilval,  241.  Indrasira,  178. 

Indra,  2.  5, 13, 14, 25, 28, 29, 36,  39,  40, 43  Iravati,  246. 

ff .  50,  56,  passim. 

J. 

Jatarupa,  373. 
Jatayu,  5. 
Jatayus,  245,  247,  280,  288, 290,  308,  385 

ff.,  500,  502. 
Java,  231. 

JavAli,  20,  80, 174,  217,  218,  219,  222. 
Jaya,  36. 
Jayanta,  14,  175. 
Jumna,  109,  501,  502. 
Jupiter,  144. 

Justice,  3,  35,  42,  149,  243,  346,  454. 
Jyotishtom,  24. 


Jabali.  505. 

Jahnu,  55. 

Jahnavi,  49,  55,  154. 

Jamadagni,  85,  86,  87, 119. 

Jambavan,  371,[374,388,  391.393,  402,425, 

428,  429,  439,  446,  448,  456,  464,483,  503. 
Jambudvip,  51,  373. 
Jambumali,  418,  419,  420,  459,  460. 
Jambupraatha,  179. 
Jambuvatu,  364  note. 
Janak,  4,  8,  9,  21,  45,  60,  61,  62,  77—85, 

88,  90,  passim. 
Janamejaya,  171. 
Janasthan,  225,  251,  254,  255,  264,  265, 

271,  281,  282,  294,  295,  298,  308,  404, 

439,  454,  463,  474,  493,  500. 

Kabandha,  5,  9,  310—316,  446,  500. 

Kadru,  246. 

Kadruma,  246. 

Kaikasi,  516. 

Kaikey i,  3, 4, 9, 27. 32. 88, 96— IQZ.passim. 

Kailasa,  38,  85,  92,96,110,111,  267,  286, 

357,  364,  368,  369,  373,  378,  421,  431. 
Kakustha,  35,  37,  82,  109,  110,  123,  137, 

142,  147,  149,  151,  153,  192,  208,  211, 

220,  311. 
Kala,  378, 


K. 

Kalak,  246. 
Kalaka,  245,  246. 
Kalakamuka,  256  note. 
Kalamahi,  372. 
Kalinda,  178. 
Kalindi,  81,  160,220. 
Kalinga,  179. 
Kalingas,  549. 
Kalmashapada  82,  220. 
Kama  37,  38,  42,  283,  286,  296. 
Kamboja,  13,  66. 


570 


INDEX. 


Kambojas,  66. 
Kara pili,  47. 
Kandu,  118,380,  440. 
Kaiidarpa,  37,  74,  75,  76,  250,  269. 
Kanva,  440. 
Kanyakubja,  47. 
Kapil,  51,52.53. 
Kapivati,  179. 
Kardam,  245. 
Karnapravaranas,  548. 
K^rtikeya,  243. 
Karttavirya,  518. 

Kasi.  21,  102, 
Kasikosalas,  548. 

Kasyap,    15,  16,  20,  30,  57—59,  80,  81, 
86,  87,  91,  92,  118,  219,  Z±5,  passim. 

Kilty  ay  an,  505. 

Katyayana,  80.  174. 

Kauaalya,  3,  23.  27,  30,  31,79,  84,  88,  93, 
94,97,98,  100,  passim. 

Kausambi,  46. 

Kausikas,  549. 

Kausiki,  48,  372. 

Kaveri.  375. 

Kaustubha,  58. 

Kavya,  40. 

Kekaya,21,  84,  88,  90,  137, 139,  174,  175. 

Kerala,  190. 

Keralas,  549. 

Kesari,  371. 

Kesini,  49,  50. 

Khara,  9,  225,  250  ff.,  281,  288,  290,  294, 
295,  433,  446,  451,  461    477,  493. 

Kinnars,270,  306,  308,  318,  321,  373,  425. 

Kimpurushas,  28  note. 

Kiratas,  66.  549. 

Kirtirat,  82. 


Kirtiratha,  82. 

Kishkindha,  5, 333, 334, 336 . 338, 339, 351, 

357,  362,  369,  385,  449,  464,  500. 
Kosal,  11,  102,  273,  307,  359,  418. 
Kosala,  151,  173. 
Krathan,  448. 
Kratu,  245. 

Krauncha,  310,  378,  476. 
Kraunchi,  246. 
Krisasva,  36,  41,  43. 
Krishna,  497 
Krishnagiri,  448. 
Krishnveni,  374. 
Krita,  57,  395. 
Krodhavasa,  245.  246. 

Kshatriyas,  246,  346. 
Kukshi,  81,219. 
Kulinga,  176. 

Kumbha,  484. 

Kurabhakarna,  10,  250,  399,  411,  435  ff., 
441,  470  ff! 

Kumuda,  364  note,  448,  475. 

Kunjar,  375,  392. 

Kuru(s),  North,  198,  203,  315,  378. 

Kurujangal,  176. 

Kusa.  10,  46,  48,  63,  526. 

Kusadhwaj,  80,  82,  88. 

Kusamba,  46. 

Kusrisva.  60. 

Kusnabha,  46,  47,  48,  63. 

Kusik,  33.  35,  36,  38,  44,  56,  62,  63,  68, 
70  ff.,  83. 

Kutika,  179. 

Kntikoshtika,  179. 

Knvera.  25,  88,  109,110,111,112,198, 
199,204,  232,  267,  378,  422,  431,  432, 
483. 

L. 


Lakshman,  4,  8,  11,  32,  36,  38,  40,  41,44,  Lankatankata,  515. 

45,  56,  61 ,  79,  80,  82—84,  88,  91 , 94,  97,  Lava,  10,  526. 

98,  passim.  Lohitya,  179. 

Lakshmi, 88,116,146, 227, 400,453, 462, 497.  Lokapalas,  485. 

Lainba,  397.  Lomapad,  15, 16,  18,  19,  21,  30. 
Lanka,  5, 10. 265.  267,  284,  286, 293,  295— 

297,  367,387,397,411,4235.,  439, 456  ff. 


INDEX. 
M. 


r>7i 


Handar,  57, 163,285,  3G2,  368,  372,  399, 

402,421,485,491,493,525. 
Mandari,  444. 
Mandhata,  81,  219,  347,  518. 
Mandavi,  84. 
Handavya,  226  note. 
Mandehas,  373. 
Mandodari,402,  492,  500,  51G. 
Ha  n  dra,  14. 
Manibhadra,  441. 
Maiithara,  40,  96,  97,  99, 187. 
Harm,  11, 12, 13, 81, 103,.  151, 179,  219, 245. 

246,  347,  490,  505,  537,  555. 
Marie  ha,  5S-. 

Mdricha,5, 9, 35,39, 40, 44, 266,271—280,298. 

Marichi,  81,  91,  219,  245. 

Marichipas,  270,  271. 

Miirkandeya,  80,  174. 

Mars,  93,  144,  339,  4u4,  445f  467,  489. 

Maru,  82,  220. 

Maruts,  25,  54,[59,  403,  517,  547,  555. 

Mashas,  270,  271, 

Matali,  109,  142,  489,  491  493. 

Hatanga,  14,  246,  315,  316,  317,  318,  319, 

336,  337,  380. 
Matarigi,  246. 
Matavisva,  389. 
Matsya,  102,  523,  537,  549. 
Maya,  293,  382,  432,  488. 
Maya,  293,521. 
Mayavi,  333,  334,  379. 
Meghamali,  256  note, 
Meghanada,  10. 
Mekhal,  374. 
Mena,  49,  394  note. 
Menaka,  74. 
Mercury,  144,  339,  467. 
Meru,  4, 49, 92, 109, 110, 142, 182,  232,  236, 

254,  291,  315, 368, 370, 377,  380, 418, 493. 
Merusavarni,  3b2. 
Mina,  32. 
Misrakesi,  199. 
Mithi,  82. 
Mithila,  9  note,  21,  45,  60,  61,  78,  81,  83, 

84,  85. 
Mitraghua,  459. 


572 


INDEX. 


Mlechchhas,  66,  537,  550.  Mriga,  14. 

Modesty,  26.  Mrigamandd,  240. 

Moon,  30,  42,  58, 109  ff .,  124: 218,  227, 243,  Mrigi,  246. 

276,  367,  413,  414,  488.  Mudgalya,  174. 

N. 

Nabhag,  82,  220.  Nandisvara,  471. 

Nagadanta,  198.  Nandivardhan.  82. 

Nagas,  12, 55, 66,  68, 145, 270, 273, 395, 409,  Narad,  1,  2,  8,  9,124, 199,  543. 

413,  420,  427,  518.  Narak,  479. 

Nahush,  82,  95, 171,  190,  220,  307.  Narantak,  479. 

Nairrit,  430.  Narayan,  25,  26,  95,  393,  474,  497,  51( 
Nala,  10,340, 364  note,  428,  444,  445,  448,        522,  535,  559. 

449,  468,  475,  483.  Narmada,  374,  448,  518. 

Nala,  246.  Nikumbha,  432,  433  note,  437,  459,  4 

Nalini,  55,  203,  204,  267,  436.  Mia,  28,  340,  352,  360, 364  note,  371,  374, 
Namuchi,  39,  261,  264,  275,  336.  428,  429,  430,  446,  448,449,456,458,       < 

Nanda,  415.  469,  472,  475,  482. 

Nandan.  26, 175, 200,  267, 279, 315, 316, 426.  Nimi,  77,  82. 

Nandi,  249,  421,  Nisakar,  389,  390. 

Nandigrama,  4,  6,  9,  224,  502,  503.  Nishadas,  4, 152, 192, 196,  271,  501,  537. 

0. 

Ocean,  10,  95, 144,  285,  286,  336,  346,  387.  Oshthakarnakas,  548, 


Pahlavas,  66. 

Paka,  252,  297,  498. 

Pampa,  5,  9,  235,  293,  314—321,  327. 

Panas,  371,  428,  448,  464. 

Panasa,  455  note. 

Panchajan,  376. 

Panchala,  176,  539. 

Panchapsaras,  240. 

Panchavata,  9. 

Panchavati,  244,  245,  247. 

Pandyas,  375,  549, 

Parasara,  517. 

Parasurama,  119  note,  523,  531. 

Paraviraksha,  256  note. 

Pariyatra,  376,  448. 

Parjanya,  112,  174,  261,  448. 

Parvati,  249  note,  515,  542. 

Paulastya,  472. 

Paulomi,  29,  370. 

Pavani,  55. 

Phalguni,  83. 


Pitris,  550. 

Prabhava,  363. 

Praehetas,  1,  245. 

Praghas,  420,  459,  46C, 

Pragvat,  179. 

Prahasta,  399,  418,  419,  421,  422,  43 

441,  451,  452,  455,  456,  471,  481. 
Praheti,  515. 
Pi-ahlada,  391. 
Prajangha,  459,  460. 
Pralamba,  175. 
Pramatha,  256  note. 
Pramathi,  260,  448. 
Pramati,  455  note. 
Prajapati,  133  note,  554,  560. 
Prasenajit,  81,  219. 
Prasravan,  304,  357,  380,  383,  415,  42 
Prasusruka,  82,  220. 
Prasthalas,  550. 
Pratindhak,  82. 
Pravargya,  22. 


INDEX. 


573 


Pritlm,  81,  219. 

Prithusvama,  256  note. 

Proshthiapada,  32. 

Pulah,  245. 

Pulastya,  35,  245,  254,  268,  288,  408,  515. 

Pulindas,  550. 

Puloma,  370. 

Punarvasu,  93. 

Pundarika,  199. 

Pundras,  548,  549. 

Babhasa,  433  note. 

Baghu,  5,  9,  22,  32 if. ,50,56,  61,  passim. 

Raghunandana,  522, 

Baghava,  5  note. 

Rahu,  93,  223,  261,  272,  303,  351,  480. 

Bain,  Lord  of,  92,  222. 

Bajagriha,  174,  175. 

."Rain a,  passim. 

ilamayana,  8  note,  10,  11,  541,  542. 

Rambha,  75,  232,  448. 

Bamana,  199. 

Rasmiketu,  433  note,  459. 

Bavan,  5,  9.  10,  25,  26,  32,  35,  passim. 

Benuka,  63, 119. 

Bichika,  48,  73,  86. 

Right,  42,  68. 

Riksharajas,  386,  442. 


Puranda,  522. 
Purandara.  384,  522. 
PuDJikasthala,  436,  552. 
Pururavas,  286,  544, 545. 
Purusha,  256  note,  559. 
Purushadak,  82,  220. 
Purushottam,  498,  517. 
Pusha,  124. 

Pushpak,  10,  80,  286,  499,  519. 
Pushya,  32,  90,  92,  94,  96,  98,  109, 126.. 
E. 

Bikshavan,  448. 

Bishabh,  373,  375,  429,  446,  476,  483. 
Bishtikas,  549. 
Rishyamuka,  9,  314,  315,  316,  318  ff.,  332, 

335,  339,  340,  353,  380,  500. 
Rishyasring,  15—24,  29,  30. 
Bohini,  4, 112,  223. 227, 246, 251, 282,287, 

367,  404,  413,  445. 
Rohitas,  376,  558. 
Budhirasana,  256  note. 
Rudra,  49,  57,  67, 77, 78, 162, 249,  257, 264, 

283,  296,  378,  413,  483. 
Rudras,  246,  558. 
Rukmim,  517. 
Ruma,  346,  349,  350,  363,  366,  367,  371, 

385,  403. 
Ruman,  371. 

s. 

Sanatkumar,  15, 16. 

Sanharas,  36. 
Sanhrada,  474. 
^anischar,  283. 
Lankan,  82. 
6ankar,  57,  335. 
Sankasya,  80,  81,  82,  83. 
£ankha,  555. 
gankhan,  220,  432. 
Sanrochan,  448. 
^ansray,  245. 
^anta.  16, 19.  29,  30,  31. 
garabh,  364  note,  439,  476. 
garabhanga,  9,  233,  234,  235,  236,  265,  502. 
Sarandib,  375  note. 
Saradanda,  176,  539. 
gardfila,  441,  449,  450. 
uli,  246. 


574 


INDEX. 


Sarju,  11,  20,  22,  3G,  57,  38,  50,  passim. 

Sarania,  452,  453. 

Saran,  446,  447,  455. 

Saranga/556. 

Saras  vati,  178,  372,  516,  522. 

Sarvabhauma,  429. 

Sarvatirtha,  179. 

£asivindhup,  81,  219. 

gatabali,  371,  377,  379,  380. 

Satadru,  178,  539. 

gatahrada,  231. 

£atananda,  G2,  63,  77,  79,  80,  81,  84. 

gatrughna,32,  83, 84,  88,  89, 97,  passim. 

$atrunjay,  '504. 

Satyavan,  129. 

Satyavati,  48. 

Savitri,  129,  227. 

£avari,  315,  310,  317. 

San  man  as,  373. 

Savarni,  377. 

Seven  Bishis,  23. 

gesha,  245. 

Siddbarth,  14,137,  138, 175. 

Siddhas,  28  note,  540,  559. 

Sigbraga,  82,  220. 

Sila,  178. 

gilavaha,  178. 

Sindbu,  13,  21,  55,  102;  372,  37G,  443. 

Sinbika,  10,  396. 

6isir(a),  372,  555. 

Sita,  4  ff..  55,  78,  79, 83,  81,  88,  93.  passim. 

Siva,  4,  36,  42,  54,  55,  57, 67,  78,  82.  85,  86. 

109, 110,  205,  523.  524,  543,  554. 
Skanda.  554. 

Soma,  52,  58, 198,  267,  378,  554. 
Somadatta,  60. 
Somada,  47. 
Somagiri,  376,  378. 
gona,  45,  48,  372. 

gringavera,  4,  192,  196,  223,  501,  502. 
Srinjay,  60. 
grutaldrti,  84. 
Sfcbarm,  25  37,  245. 
Sthanumati,  179. 
Sthulaksha,  256  note,  260. 
Sthtilasiras,  313. 
fSubahu,  o6i  note. 
JSucliakshu,  55. 


Suchaodra,  60. 

6uchi,  238. 
Sudama,  178. 
Sudaman,  81,  176. 
Sudarean,  82,  83,  220,  373,  378,  448. 
Sudarsandwip,  374. 
Sudhanva,  82.  . 
Sudhriti,  82. 
Madras,  6,  13,  246. 

Sugn'va,  5,  6,  9,  28.  29,  314, 316,  318,  324  ff. 
337,  330,  344.  340  ff.,  371,  375  ff..  412,  414 
422.  424.  430,  439  ff.,  446,  450,  519,  545. 
Suka,  442,  446.  447;  455  if. 
Sukesa,  515,  516. 
Suketu.39?  82. 
Suki,  246. 

gukra.  124,  210,  279,  384,  429. 
Sumali,  515,  516. 
Sumagadhi,  46. 

Sumantra,  15,  16,  19,  21,  80.  92,  passim. 
Sumati,  49,  50,  59,  60. 
Sumitra,  27,  30,  32,  88,  94,  passim. 
Sun,  93, 109,  110,  124,243. 
Sunabha,  425. 
Sunahsepha,  72,  73,  74 
Sunda,  35,  39. 
Simetra,  364  note. 
Suparna,  53, 125,  231,  343,  349,  388. 
Suparsva,  388. 
Supatala,  364  note. 
Suptaghna,  433  note. 
,  Sura,  58. 
Surabbi,  183,  246. 
Surapati,  522. 
Suras,  58. 
Surasa,  246,  395. 
Surashtra,  21,  102,  376. 
Surasenas,  550. 

Surpanakha,5,  9,  249  ff.,  267  ff.,  288,  502, 
Surya,  555. 
Suryaksba,  364  note. 
Suryasatru,  433  note. 
Suryavan,  375. 
Susandhi,  81,  219. 
Sushc-n,  28,  351,  364  note,  376,  379,  380, 

429,  464,  468,  488. 
Sutanu,  199, 
SuLikshna,  9,  234,  236,  237,  240,  241. 


IXDEX.  57; 

Suvulm,  35,  44,  45, 146.  3vetaranva,  2G4. 

Suvarat,  220.  Swarga,  54,  101,  202,  493. 

Suvela,  450,  456,  457.  Swarnaroma,  82. 

Suvira,  21,  102.  gweta,  443. 

Suyajna,  20, 132.  £yama,  100. 

Svayambhu,  394.  Syandika.  151. 
Svayamprabha,  382.  Syenagjimi,  256  note,  260. 

£veta,  246.  6yeni,  246. 

T. 

Taclaka,  38,  39,  40,  41.  Three-eyed  God,  86. 

Tadakeya,  266.  Thunderer,  234. 

Taittiriya,  132.  Titan,  58,  67,  72,  79,  109, 114,  124. 

Takshak,  432.  Toran,  179. 

Takshaka,  267.  Town- Destroyer,  59,  60. 

Talajanghas,  81,  219.  Trident,  68. 

Tamasa,  7, 147,  148,  149.  Trident-wielding,.  54,  57. 

Tamra,  245,  246.  Trijat,  133. 

Tarnraparni,  375.  Trijata,  410,  463. 

Tapan,  459,  555.  Trikuta,  456,  457,  500,  515. 

Tara,  364  note,  379  ff.  Trinavindu,  515. 

Tani,  9,  336,  34!)  ff.,  355.  359,  362, 363, 366,  Tripathaga,  56. 

367,  369,  371,  385,  403,  449,  546.  Tripur,  306. 

Tarak,  430.  Tripura,  85,  86. 

Tarkshya,  214.  Trisanku,  68-72,  81,  144,  219,  429. 
Ten-necked,  250.  Trisira,  9. 

Thirty-three  Gods,  51.  Trisiras,  256  note.  260,  261,  264,  267,  271, 
Thousand-eyed,  41,  59,  60,  74,  75,  76,  86,      478,  479,  480,  502. 

90,  112,  252,  297,  504.  Tumburu,  198,  199,  232. 

u. 

Uclichaihsravas,  58,  522.  Upasunda.  35. 

Udayagiri,  379  note.  Upendra,  74,  559. 

Udavasu,  82,  Urmila.  47,  83,  84,  88,  228. 

Ukthya,  24.  Urvasi,  286.  544,  545. 

Ujjihana,  179.  Usanas,  382. 
TJma,  49,  54,  205,  249  note,  471,  542,  543.     Utkal,  374. 

Upasad,  22.  Utttinika,  179,  539. 

V. 

Vahli,  13.  Vaitaranf,  293. 

Vahlika,  376.  Vajra,  376. 

Vahni,  555.  Vajradanshtra,  432,  433  note,  466,  467. 

Vaijayanta,  99,  179,  522.  Valmiki,  1,  7—11,  161,  519,  542. 

Vaidyut,  375.  Vamadeva,  14.  79,  80,  91,  174,  222,  505. 

Vaikhanasas,  270,  271,  374.  Vaman(a\  14,  523. 

Vainateya.  388.  Vana,  81,  219. 

Vaisyas,  246.  Vanayu,  13. 

Vaisravun,  265,  285,  378,  414,  515.  Vangas,  102. 


576 


INDEX. 


Varadai,  550.  Vikata,  409. 

Varun,  1  note,  28,  42,  67, 88, 109, 124,  228,    Vikrit,  245. 

243,  272, 293, 338, 377,  383,448,  471,  518.    Vikukshi,  81.  219. 
Varutha,  179. 
Varasya,  256  note. 
Vasav,  92. 
Vasava,  236,  522. 


Vasishtha,  14,  15,  19—22,  25,  ^passim.    Vipasa,  176,  539. 


Vinata,  179,  379,  380r  388,  448. 
Vinata,  53,  125,  246. 
Vindhya,  14,  51,  242,  364,  370,  374,  380. 
Vindu,  55. 


Vasudeva,  51,  52. 

Vasuld,  57,  267,  375,  432,  518,  522. 

Vasue,  14,  46,  246,  283,  377,  403,  522, 554. 

Vasvaukasara,  203. 

Vatapi,  241,280. 

Vayu,  59,  243,  369,  427,  428,  555. 


Virabahu,  364  note. 

Viradha.  5,  9,  229,  232, 404,  446,502. 

Viraj,  124. 

Viramatsya,  178. 

Virochan,  40,  43. 

Virtue,  223,  272. 


Vedas,  1  note,  3,  12,  22,  70,  89,  109,  125,    Virupaksha.  52,  420,  433,  459,  460,  487. 


147.  184,229,559. 
Vedasruti,  151. 
Vedavati,  470,517. 
Vegadarsi,  429,  446,  483. 
Vena,  448,  537. 
Vib'handak,  15,  1C,  17, 18,  25. 
Vibhishan,  6,  10,  250,  273,  415,  422,  423, 

433  ff.,  449  ff.,  472,  483,  487  if.,  516. 
Vibudh,  82. 
Vidarbha,  46,  49. 
Vidarbhas,  549. 


Visala,  56,  57,  59,  60,  62. 

Visakhas,  144,  430. 

Vishnu,  1  note,  2,3,  25,  32.  40, passim. 

Visravas,  35,  309,  408,  515,  516. 

Visvachi,  198. 

Visvakarma,  28,  42,  1 98,  376,  387,  444,  445, 

448,499,  500,  515,556. 
Visvamitra,9.  32  ff.,  39,  41,  44,  45, passim. 
Visvavasu,  198. 
Viivedevas,  162. 
Visvajit,  24. 


Videha,79  &.,  129,  130,142,166,195,227.    Visvarupa,  353. 


Visvas,  377. 
Vitardan,  474. 

Vivasvat,  81,  171,  219,  245,  386,532. 
Vrana,  444. 
Vrihadratha,  82. 

Vrihaspati,28,  31,95,124,  210,  307,464,517. 
Vritra,  125,  264,  288, 387,  487,  491,  536. 
Vulture-king,  9. 

w. 

Wind-god,  10.  36,  42,  68,  325, 326,  379, 392 
ff.,  417  ff.,  449,  470, 478, 481, 488, 502, 503. 

Y. 

Yamuna,  158, 159, 160, 178,  214,  223,  372. 
Yaraun.  372. 
Yavanas,  66,  550. 
Yaksha,  236  note,  306,  318,  363,375,  394,  Tavadwipa,  372. 

420,  422,  425,  431,  454,  458,  468.  Yayati,  82,  95,  107, 119, 163,  ISC,  307,  344. 

Yama,  68,  71,  112,  117, 124,  140,  166,  171,  Yudha-jit,  84,  88, 180, 190. 
241,  248,  262,  275,  287,  313,  343  if.,  432,  Yiipaksha,  420,  472. 
437,  449,  472,  475,  496,  518,  554,  Yuvanasva,  81,  219. 


Videhas,  548. 

Videhari,  9,  79,  95, 104, 119, 125,  passim. 

Vidyadhari,  203  note. 

Vidyujjihva,  450. 

Vidyunmali,  364  note. 

Vidyutkesa,  515. 

Vihangama,  256  note. 

Vijay,  14,  36,  175,  505. 

War-god,  124,  476. 
Wind,  30,  218. 

Yajnakopa,  433  note,  459. 
Yajush,  326. 
Yajnasatru,  256  note. 


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